<?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-548011808217205696</id><updated>2011-07-07T16:15:15.892-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Desiraé Marks</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://desiraemarks.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/548011808217205696/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://desiraemarks.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Desiraé Rochelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08855252072464507232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oZAhjk3CXBA/SpSJS1v4RqI/AAAAAAAAAHo/RXPW5RArwM8/S220/DSCF4032.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>25</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-548011808217205696.post-6615312401150687390</id><published>2011-05-09T19:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-09T19:32:06.423-07:00</updated><title type='text'>You may have my heart</title><content type='html'>Nine months ago this month Tom Ritz held me under a full moon and said "This isn't a normal friendship is it?". "No, and thank you for acknowledging that" I said with relief that the truth had finally been spoken! &lt;br /&gt;A few days later I dropped Tom off along side of the road so he could start hitch kicking to Portland main. From Portland to Portland. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From that point on Tom and I have been growing in love and truth. We have been extremely good, intimate friends for years, so having that friendship before hand truly laid down a foundation we will always be standing on! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few months into our relationship I got a small package in the mail. You see, Tom was taking some time staying in a cabin to re calibrate his head and heart after starting a very serious relationship, and back packing through America. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I opened the envelope, and in it found a beautiful wooden heart and a note. With his handwriting. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The note explained how, if I would allow it to; this heart was meant to symbolize mine. &lt;br /&gt;He took much effort in shaping it, and working hard for it; as he carved it out of a pine tree he found in the forest. &lt;br /&gt;It was mine to keep. Until he was ready one day to have my heart. To have all of me. &lt;br /&gt;I have held onto that heart for 5 months. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friday night he found himself in my room and slipped my heart into his pocket.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saturday afternoon, as we were in the middle of a most ordinary walk we stopped and looked into the bakery window of Petite Provence. This french bakery is one of our favorite spots. It was over breakfast here, he told me he loved me for the first time. And here is where we spent our first Valentines together. &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-S7mv06zHN6g/TciPVLvAC0I/AAAAAAAAANM/QoW2mPRvpUg/s1600/IMG_6039.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 161px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-S7mv06zHN6g/TciPVLvAC0I/AAAAAAAAANM/QoW2mPRvpUg/s320/IMG_6039.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5604887330352532290" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We stopped, held each other, and gazed in at the delicious goodies. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh look, what does this cake say?" he asked&lt;br /&gt;I gazed on in, and soon found that it read "Come fly with me Desiraé" &lt;br /&gt;I looked at him in awe and told him how beautiful it was and hugged him tightly. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He then pulled my heart out of his pocket and began to recall what the heart represented. &lt;br /&gt;After some while of him speaking beautiful words he told me he was fully ready to care for my heart now. He was asking for my heart. He was ready. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just stared at him in shock. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He then got down on one knee and I screamed. &lt;br /&gt;I wish I could remember his exactly words, but all I remember is: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Christ Likeness"&lt;br /&gt;"I want to spend the rest of my life with you" &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Desiraé, will you be my bride?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yes, Yes, I will" I finally managed to whisper. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He pulled out a white jewelry box and I screamed again. &lt;br /&gt;He opened it and I screamed louder. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tom Ritz put the ring on my finger.... after we clownishly decided to take off my glitten to have it fit properly.&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-YS8I55rrIHs/TcieERfY9fI/AAAAAAAAANs/eAnal5Wkq_8/s1600/IMG_6080.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-YS8I55rrIHs/TcieERfY9fI/AAAAAAAAANs/eAnal5Wkq_8/s320/IMG_6080.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5604903532514309618" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We kissed the most sincere, deep, passionate kiss. &lt;br /&gt;And kissed some more, and continued on for some while. &lt;br /&gt;"Lets go have some cake" he said. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We walked into the bakery and I saw my fathers face, my eyes glazed over as I realized the whole restaurant was full of our community. (minus some sweet on lookers) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I turned into Tom's chest and I bawled. &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-oGlgXzrytVQ/TciSEYm4IsI/AAAAAAAAANU/lsMf3WY9muE/s1600/218988_555647661968_149700040_31653410_4321479_o.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-oGlgXzrytVQ/TciSEYm4IsI/AAAAAAAAANU/lsMf3WY9muE/s320/218988_555647661968_149700040_31653410_4321479_o.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5604890340285227714" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Completely overwhelmed with the man he was. He knew what I needed. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;~ I wanted it to be a surprise. He couldn't have surprised me more! &lt;br /&gt;~ I desperately wanted him to have time to express why he was proposing. He did so most eloquently. &lt;br /&gt;~ More than anything, I needed our community to share this moment with us. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He knows me so intimately, and I can't even express how thrilled I a for us to know each other better. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, I found out later that the cake was raspberry chocolate. &lt;br /&gt;FAVORITE &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-EiOOp0AxJ7I/TciWyPKAiTI/AAAAAAAAANc/C61CZc5d0HA/s1600/IMG_6102.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-EiOOp0AxJ7I/TciWyPKAiTI/AAAAAAAAANc/C61CZc5d0HA/s320/IMG_6102.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5604895526068717874" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ah yes, when he turned to walk us inside I stopped him. &lt;br /&gt;"Tom, here is my heart. I am intrusting this to you now". &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tight hugs to so many people as I was bawling lasted for some time. &lt;br /&gt;Tom was elated. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I was hugging my mother - the first one at the door, she whispered &lt;br /&gt;"Tom h'as one more surprise for you." &lt;br /&gt;"I dont think I can handle it!" &lt;br /&gt;"Turn around Des" &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yALhPEPJK30/TciZxpoMyeI/AAAAAAAAANk/RKAiXxGbTfU/s1600/226238_1964200672367_1463374377_2162509_1395990_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 234px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yALhPEPJK30/TciZxpoMyeI/AAAAAAAAANk/RKAiXxGbTfU/s320/226238_1964200672367_1463374377_2162509_1395990_n.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5604898814529685986" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was Bethany Lomas. Flown out from CA for our engagement. &lt;br /&gt;I haven't seen her since before she left for India for 4 months.&lt;br /&gt;She is one of the best friends I will ever have! &lt;br /&gt;I started bawling all over again!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Soo many people showed up for that day, and even later on that evening as Tom had planned a celebration dinner at Edgefield with everyone. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later Tom, Stacie, Beth, Andy and I all retreated to Stacie's house and we drank champagne and gave individual toast's to the evening. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-aHkaJkADP4k/TcigWjOgF3I/AAAAAAAAAN8/IoBCbj2ZIMk/s1600/IMG_6113.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/-aHkaJkADP4k/TcigWjOgF3I/AAAAAAAAAN8/IoBCbj2ZIMk/s320/IMG_6113.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5604906045536212850" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was a moving day. &lt;br /&gt;We are so blessed with the people in our lives! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He is ready for my heart, and I his. &lt;br /&gt;I trust Tom Ritz to the utmost, and couldn't be more elated with spending my life with him. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He will be a wonderful partner. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are getting married!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/548011808217205696-6615312401150687390?l=desiraemarks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://desiraemarks.blogspot.com/feeds/6615312401150687390/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=548011808217205696&amp;postID=6615312401150687390' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/548011808217205696/posts/default/6615312401150687390'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/548011808217205696/posts/default/6615312401150687390'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://desiraemarks.blogspot.com/2011/05/you-may-have-my-heart.html' title='You may have my heart'/><author><name>Desiraé Rochelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08855252072464507232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oZAhjk3CXBA/SpSJS1v4RqI/AAAAAAAAAHo/RXPW5RArwM8/S220/DSCF4032.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-S7mv06zHN6g/TciPVLvAC0I/AAAAAAAAANM/QoW2mPRvpUg/s72-c/IMG_6039.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-548011808217205696.post-6573955882833364105</id><published>2011-02-05T22:32:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-05T23:25:17.479-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Refelct, Create, Beauty</title><content type='html'>I have decided to start blogging again. This decision has been made because I'm giving myself a goal to be alone a little bit more. I don't have to be in a room by myself necessarily, but I want to be present to myself and give myself a space to reflect, create and focus on beauty. &lt;br /&gt;I have an awfully busy life. I don't mind really. I LOVE people. The moments I have actually been cognitive (not sleeping or doped up on cough medicine) and alone this week however has been really refreshing. I need to be alone more. Just 15 min here and there really. Not much. Perhaps I shall start getting ready for bed earlier so I have some time before I drift of into my funny dream land.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Blogging will hold me more accountable than journaling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do want to start giving myself time to be. &lt;br /&gt;I had that in France. That's when I started to blog. &lt;br /&gt;When I started The Treehouse I stopped blogging. Life got to busy. &lt;br /&gt;Tonight I have decided to start once again. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Time to reflect, create and focus on beauty. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, for blog one of this new year: I will share with you the newest addition to my furniture collection. It's currently sitting in my garage, waiting to be christened once I move into another house. Even though its in my garage out of site, it is not out of mind. It invades my thoughts constantly. &lt;br /&gt;I can now start a record collection. The one I knew I should have started years ago. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's a antique 'dresser' with built in speakers, a radio and a record player! If you look at the first photo you can see the lace on the bottom panel... behind it are speakers, with some wonderful volume! &lt;br /&gt;Once you slide the top cover to the right you see a spot for a record collection. Slide the top to the left and in it you will find a FM AM radio, and a turn table. &lt;br /&gt;Mr. Tom just has to learn how to install the needle and were hopping she works just as beautifully as the radio does! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Get this.... and she was only $45 at Village Merchants; one of my favorite consignment shops on my street! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Isn't she beautiful!? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...........................&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_oZAhjk3CXBA/TU5H4hEWA6I/AAAAAAAAAM0/H5GioBJvWA0/s1600/IMAG0032.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 239px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_oZAhjk3CXBA/TU5H4hEWA6I/AAAAAAAAAM0/H5GioBJvWA0/s400/IMAG0032.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5570468825378718626" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...............................&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oZAhjk3CXBA/TU5MOOtKs8I/AAAAAAAAANE/-2iFneibHrs/s1600/IMAG0034-1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 239px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oZAhjk3CXBA/TU5MOOtKs8I/AAAAAAAAANE/-2iFneibHrs/s400/IMAG0034-1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5570473596453303234" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;.................................&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mmm any name suggestions?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oZAhjk3CXBA/TU5IY2FmqcI/AAAAAAAAAM8/P-YUIkhS2QM/s1600/IMAG0033-1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 191px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oZAhjk3CXBA/TU5IY2FmqcI/AAAAAAAAAM8/P-YUIkhS2QM/s320/IMAG0033-1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5570469380776962498" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/548011808217205696-6573955882833364105?l=desiraemarks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://desiraemarks.blogspot.com/feeds/6573955882833364105/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=548011808217205696&amp;postID=6573955882833364105' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/548011808217205696/posts/default/6573955882833364105'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/548011808217205696/posts/default/6573955882833364105'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://desiraemarks.blogspot.com/2011/02/refelct-create-beauty.html' title='Refelct, Create, Beauty'/><author><name>Desiraé Rochelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08855252072464507232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oZAhjk3CXBA/SpSJS1v4RqI/AAAAAAAAAHo/RXPW5RArwM8/S220/DSCF4032.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_oZAhjk3CXBA/TU5H4hEWA6I/AAAAAAAAAM0/H5GioBJvWA0/s72-c/IMAG0032.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-548011808217205696.post-2906152249568676862</id><published>2010-05-29T23:53:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-30T00:01:17.807-07:00</updated><title type='text'>No Where Will My Sweet Lips Go</title><content type='html'>&lt;meta equiv="CONTENT-TYPE" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"&gt; 	&lt;title&gt;&lt;/title&gt; 	&lt;meta name="GENERATOR" content="OpenOffice.org 3.1  (Unix)"&gt; 	&lt;style type="text/css"&gt; 	&lt;!-- 		@page { margin: 0.79in } 		P { margin-bottom: 0.08in } 	--&gt; 	&lt;/style&gt;  &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"&gt;A year ago or more now Samantha May (http://www.beautyinherveins.blogspot.com/) and I created a challenge for ourselves. To take a phrase, and both create a poem. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"&gt;You see, Sam says things that will enrich your soul. So after saying one night in a simple text "No where will my sweet lips go" I asked her to write a poem with that as the foundation, for this stunning phrase deserved more thought and energy than a mere text. She said  I should instead. I wanted her to. We argued. It was finally decided for us both to write a poem which included the line.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"&gt;I think we should do this again quite soon. It was a wonderful challenge.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"&gt;She so lovingly reminded me of this a few weeks ago. Here's can be found on her site, and my version is here below.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"&gt;Sam, you enrich my soul and I love you deeply.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"&gt;..........................................................&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"&gt;This tender secret should not remain&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"&gt;for affection is worthless;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"&gt;if not shared&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"&gt;Yet my sweet lips,&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"&gt;however tantalized they may be&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"&gt;refuse to dare.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"&gt;The air wrapped about you&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"&gt;has silenced me&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"&gt;like no other.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"&gt;I fear the worst.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"&gt;Not paralyzed lips, no;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"&gt;for I may loose you all together&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"&gt;This friendship is too dear&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"&gt;to risk with lips.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"&gt;So I take up my pen to tell you this;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"&gt;My lips speak your praise&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"&gt;and whisper your name&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"&gt;when all ears are turned away.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"&gt;The sound of your voice&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"&gt;sends them awry&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"&gt;and causes a great deal of delay.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"&gt;I cannot use lips&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"&gt;in the telling of my heart.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"&gt;so I promise you this;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"&gt;Because your power has&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"&gt;affected me so;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"&gt;no where will my sweet lips go.  &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"&gt; ~Desiraé Marks  &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/548011808217205696-2906152249568676862?l=desiraemarks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://desiraemarks.blogspot.com/feeds/2906152249568676862/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=548011808217205696&amp;postID=2906152249568676862' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/548011808217205696/posts/default/2906152249568676862'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/548011808217205696/posts/default/2906152249568676862'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://desiraemarks.blogspot.com/2010/05/no-where-will-my-sweet-lips-go.html' title='No Where Will My Sweet Lips Go'/><author><name>Desiraé Rochelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08855252072464507232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oZAhjk3CXBA/SpSJS1v4RqI/AAAAAAAAAHo/RXPW5RArwM8/S220/DSCF4032.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-548011808217205696.post-6750646332808373751</id><published>2010-05-24T23:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-24T23:38:32.981-07:00</updated><title type='text'>It makes my heart sing....</title><content type='html'>I've recently received some of these messages from parents at my school; The Treehouse Nursery. I can't even express how hearing these words gives me a joy, and a reason for going to work everyday!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;.....One of his stuffed friends is named "Desirae," which makes Paul and I giggle every time he says it. All his other stuffed friends have names like "pig" and "lion."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;dude...florence loves you. she always asks me what you're&lt;br /&gt;doing and where you live. i have to make up little stories about&lt;br /&gt;desirae.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/548011808217205696-6750646332808373751?l=desiraemarks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://desiraemarks.blogspot.com/feeds/6750646332808373751/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=548011808217205696&amp;postID=6750646332808373751' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/548011808217205696/posts/default/6750646332808373751'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/548011808217205696/posts/default/6750646332808373751'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://desiraemarks.blogspot.com/2010/05/it-makes-my-heart-sing.html' title='It makes my heart sing....'/><author><name>Desiraé Rochelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08855252072464507232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oZAhjk3CXBA/SpSJS1v4RqI/AAAAAAAAAHo/RXPW5RArwM8/S220/DSCF4032.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-548011808217205696.post-3744601436240044304</id><published>2010-05-03T23:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-03T23:28:10.852-07:00</updated><title type='text'>beautiful life, beautiful trusting God</title><content type='html'>Here are some photos from the last couple weeks at Blossom House - where I have spent the last 9 months of my life first co-teacher, then Lead-teacher, then Manager.&lt;br /&gt;http://picasaweb.google.com/jollygreencar/NewBH#&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here are some photos of the first week of school at The Treehouse Nursery; a preschool I opened (branching off of BH) this last Tuesday the 27th. I'm now the business owner, and Director of an amazingly beautiful preschool! I just saw these photos, and I got so giddy and proud! (Carissa is one of our teachers, and shes a beautiful photographer!)&lt;br /&gt;http://picasaweb.google.com/jollygreencar/TheTreehouseNursery#&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My life has completely changed in the last coupe months... and more specifically in the last week.&lt;br /&gt;It's all be completely orchestrated by God, its ridiculous!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I keep wanting to write a blog about this, but  ive been, well starting a business instead of writing. ;) Which is beneficial for the business, but a little hard on myself! I'm very excited for this crazy beginning stage to mellow out a bit, and have some more time to create again!&lt;br /&gt;God is good though, and he has been sustaining me beautifully through this!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He gave me this school, and I promise to take care of it (the parents, staff and children) to the best of my ability. And when I fail, I trust that he will step in. He is the sustainer. He is the peace maker.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/548011808217205696-3744601436240044304?l=desiraemarks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://desiraemarks.blogspot.com/feeds/3744601436240044304/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=548011808217205696&amp;postID=3744601436240044304' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/548011808217205696/posts/default/3744601436240044304'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/548011808217205696/posts/default/3744601436240044304'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://desiraemarks.blogspot.com/2010/05/beautiful-life-beautiful-trusting-god.html' title='beautiful life, beautiful trusting God'/><author><name>Desiraé Rochelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08855252072464507232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oZAhjk3CXBA/SpSJS1v4RqI/AAAAAAAAAHo/RXPW5RArwM8/S220/DSCF4032.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-548011808217205696.post-7905884953577416425</id><published>2010-04-08T02:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-08T02:36:45.842-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Its a pitty...</title><content type='html'>To be inspired and then create nothing from the inspiration.&lt;br /&gt;Tonight my friend Tabitha inspired me a great deal.&lt;br /&gt;Im going to write a poem about the color blue. I cant tell you why really, because it is all too confusing, but I am simply posting this message until my poem is complete. And also to remind myself to write it. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/548011808217205696-7905884953577416425?l=desiraemarks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://desiraemarks.blogspot.com/feeds/7905884953577416425/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=548011808217205696&amp;postID=7905884953577416425' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/548011808217205696/posts/default/7905884953577416425'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/548011808217205696/posts/default/7905884953577416425'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://desiraemarks.blogspot.com/2010/04/its-pitty.html' title='Its a pitty...'/><author><name>Desiraé Rochelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08855252072464507232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oZAhjk3CXBA/SpSJS1v4RqI/AAAAAAAAAHo/RXPW5RArwM8/S220/DSCF4032.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-548011808217205696.post-2893609956154634671</id><published>2010-04-02T00:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-02T01:32:15.587-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I hate the spaghetti Factory</title><content type='html'>I don't. I don't really have any feelings towards the place what so ever. But Patty however, she thinks its a horrible excuse for pasta.&lt;br /&gt;Patty loves to cook. I love to eat her food.&lt;br /&gt;She also loves to drink.&lt;br /&gt;I have seen Patty drunk before. More appropriately put, 'when have I seen Patty not drunk?".&lt;br /&gt;Honestly, 2pm, 7pm, 2am... doesnt matter - the lady is on a liquid diet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I came home sick from work on Monday. I puked at the bank, while setting up a buisness account for my new school. Ha. Stomach bug, or nerves? I think a little bit of both.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, so Im waking up from my nap around 5ish, and Patty rings the door bell. About 12 times, she rings the door bell.&lt;br /&gt;Good night lady!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I open up the door, she busts through yelling 'will you do my hair!?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yeah, sure. Of course. Wait, what do you want me to do with your hair; are you going somewhere? Ah, Patty, when was the last time you showerd?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I dont know how to do my hair. I new you could. Damn, your so gorgeous. You dont even know it, look at your hair, its always beautiful."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Thank you Patty. Where are you going?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Its Dustins Birthday, and Beth called me up and said I was invited to the Spaghetti Factory with them tonight. I hate that place. I dont. I cant even. What do I do with my hair?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hand her baby powder to soak up the grease thats been there for who knows how long!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After much stumbling around, and scattered talking I get her to sit down on the couch where I put two little braids in the front of her hair.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then she talked me into going with her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As Im over at her place, helping her get dressed, zipping up her pants, viewing her DISCUSTINGLY long and ancient looking toenails, and trying to calm her down the phone rings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Its for you" She yells from the bedroom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I pick up the phone, its Beth; Dustins Mother in-Law. Beth is our next door neighbors. Shes Patties best friend. They have lived across the st from each other their whole life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Can I ask you a personal questions" Says Beth. "How fucked up is she?"&lt;br /&gt;(i hate that word, im just quoting here people)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Pretty bad" I said&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Ok she cant come. I was so worried about her yesterday. She lost it. Was bawling all day, and drank so much, it was ridiculous. My daughter, and son in-law cant handle her tonight. Im meeting Dustins parents for the first time. There SUPER religious. Patty cant come"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I lied to Patty and told her they had gotten the reservation off, and didnt have enough room.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She knew it wasnt the truth.&lt;br /&gt;I have seen Patty drunk before.&lt;br /&gt;But never belligerently drunk. It was scary.&lt;br /&gt;She was screaming. And crying. I found out she had an abortion when she was 14.&lt;br /&gt;She broke plates. Not out of anger, but out of complete incoherency.&lt;br /&gt;She almost broke her back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I helped her up, and told her we were gonna stay in, and I would make us dinner.&lt;br /&gt;I prepared shirmp scampi. But it came from a package so she wouldnt eat it.&lt;br /&gt;Are you kidding me? It was an amazing organic pasta from trader joes. She lectured me on eating healthy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I dumped out the rest of her vodka when she wasnt looking.&lt;br /&gt;The lady is a mess.&lt;br /&gt;She is broken.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She lost her sister to cancer 4 months ago.&lt;br /&gt;She lost Brian, her partner 2 months ago. He died suddenly from a heart condition.&lt;br /&gt;Her brother took her mom to Ohio with him 1 month ago.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She has no one.&lt;br /&gt;Well....&lt;br /&gt;She has Beth and her family.&lt;br /&gt;Her 2 collage aged bar tenders that come smoke pot with her. Whom she has tried to hook me up with.&lt;br /&gt;She has her three cats. Nutty Brown (whom has a crush on my kitty Thor), ruff and tuff.&lt;br /&gt;Erick, this redneck (her words) she met at the bar the other day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And me I suppose.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lord, help me show her You.&lt;br /&gt;Were not enough.&lt;br /&gt;She needs you, possibly more than ever.&lt;br /&gt;She is depressed, and dosn't know  how to cope with these losses.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shes hilarious. I love Patty. Such a fresh, yet offensive air! :)&lt;br /&gt;She has so much to offer this world with her sense of humor, common sense and love and compassion for people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But right now, shes not good for anyone. Not even herself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Take care of her God.&lt;br /&gt;Help me be an extension of you to also take care of her.&lt;br /&gt;Help Beth.&lt;br /&gt;Beth knows you. I pray you will truly help Beth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That was an awfully night.&lt;br /&gt;Now I hate the spaghetti factory. :)&lt;br /&gt;Mostly, I hate that she is hurting.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/548011808217205696-2893609956154634671?l=desiraemarks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://desiraemarks.blogspot.com/feeds/2893609956154634671/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=548011808217205696&amp;postID=2893609956154634671' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/548011808217205696/posts/default/2893609956154634671'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/548011808217205696/posts/default/2893609956154634671'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://desiraemarks.blogspot.com/2010/04/i-hate-spaghetti-factory.html' title='I hate the spaghetti Factory'/><author><name>Desiraé Rochelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08855252072464507232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oZAhjk3CXBA/SpSJS1v4RqI/AAAAAAAAAHo/RXPW5RArwM8/S220/DSCF4032.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-548011808217205696.post-174213376801855218</id><published>2010-03-02T23:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-02T23:42:51.753-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Crying At Work</title><content type='html'>Ive been sick for the past month or so; but violently ill for the last two weeks. There were times where I got extremely scared. Times where my mom found me collapsed on the bathroom floor, and times; most recently where I feel like I'm aloud to live again!&lt;br /&gt;Im not trying to be overly dramatic. I honestly have been wrecked by the havic my body has been going through. Or perhaps more apropriatly put; the havic the Dr. put me through when she missed diagnosed me and caused me to spread Staph infection all over my body. Staph can be deadly, espcially when gone untreated. So naturally having that much all my body, and for weeks without being treated properly over kinda put me into a haze for quite some time.&lt;br /&gt;Thank God for Moms and Dads to take care of you. Thank God for family Dr.s that actually know their stuff, to finally help me heal!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is not a post about nasty soars all over my body. Cause that's just disgusting, and I don't want to think about it anymore.  This is a post about Romy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Romy &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oZAhjk3CXBA/S44PWRR8aOI/AAAAAAAAAMI/agL5vQzrDZU/s1600-h/0205101209b.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 228px; height: 304px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oZAhjk3CXBA/S44PWRR8aOI/AAAAAAAAAMI/agL5vQzrDZU/s200/0205101209b.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5444305874807711970" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;is 2 1/2. I see her 5 days a week at Blossom House Nursery, and we have a deep love and attachment for each other.&lt;br /&gt;Yes, in this photo she is wearing a Ramones t-shirt, paired with my boots. Seriously, one of the funniest kids around! She brightens every room. I stinking adore her.&lt;br /&gt;As I was out sick from my Preschool the past two weeks I was informed that Romy's mom has gotten a job in LA. They are moving this Thursday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I came back to work on Monday I walked into the school to see a huge sign, hand painted by 2 yr olds that said "Welcome Back Desirae". I cried a little, but didn't let anyone see it.&lt;br /&gt;I got hugs and kisses from sweet little kids I havent seen for weeks. But I held in the tears.&lt;br /&gt;Although the job can be extremely stressful, and emotionally draining Ive never cried at work before. I wont let myself. Its my job to create a peaceful environment. Its my job. I don't want to cry at my job. I cry enough. I don't need to cry at work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, being Tuesday was my second day back at work, and third day back to life in Portland. I was excited to get back, and thought w/out a dought that I was healing up very quickly. Working from 8-5, going out to Hopworks with Romy and Westons families w. my lead teachers from 5-9, and then going to the Bagdad Pub from 9-12 w/ Lisa, Jess and Karli last night seemed like a great idea. I had tons of energy, and was just so excited to see everyone again, and live life!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eat, drink and be merry right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This morning though - my body told me otherwise. I over did it. TOOO much excitement and energy for this sick lady!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After being at work for two hrs, and laying down in a bed upstairs for half that time because I felt so sick again I was sent home by my teachers. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I was finishing up some details in the kitchen Romy came in.&lt;br /&gt;She ran to me, grabbed my leg and screamed "DESIRAE!" I felt the tears come.&lt;br /&gt;"Where are you going!?" She asked with concern&lt;br /&gt;"Hi sweetie! I'm going to go home. Miss Desirae is feeling really sick, and I need to rest" I said while holding onto her and looking into her sweet brown eyes.&lt;br /&gt;"Are you coming back!?"&lt;br /&gt;"Yes hunny, I'll come back tomorrow"&lt;br /&gt;"I love you Desirae."&lt;br /&gt;I started to cry&lt;br /&gt;She then gave me a huge hug that squeezed even more tears out of me.&lt;br /&gt;I pulled away and looked at her, "Romy, I love you too."&lt;br /&gt;"I love you so much." she replied, and then kissed me on my lips.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I lost it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was just pridefully telling Jess last night that I had never cried at work.&lt;br /&gt;I have now 100%, no questions asked cried at work. For all to see. Kids, teachers; they all saw Miss Desirae cry today as she said goodbye to the kids and went home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love her so much. I can't even express it. Honestly, she reminds me so much of my little cousins its ridiculous.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That moment was beautiful, and I had to share it.&lt;br /&gt;Goodnight all.&lt;br /&gt;May the Lord grant you rest.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/548011808217205696-174213376801855218?l=desiraemarks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://desiraemarks.blogspot.com/feeds/174213376801855218/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=548011808217205696&amp;postID=174213376801855218' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/548011808217205696/posts/default/174213376801855218'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/548011808217205696/posts/default/174213376801855218'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://desiraemarks.blogspot.com/2010/03/crying-at-work.html' title='Crying At Work'/><author><name>Desiraé Rochelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08855252072464507232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oZAhjk3CXBA/SpSJS1v4RqI/AAAAAAAAAHo/RXPW5RArwM8/S220/DSCF4032.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oZAhjk3CXBA/S44PWRR8aOI/AAAAAAAAAMI/agL5vQzrDZU/s72-c/0205101209b.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-548011808217205696.post-34161579831307218</id><published>2010-02-28T01:27:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-28T02:05:53.864-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I found a beautiful Photographer</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://ashleymaxwellphoto.com/blog/wp-content/uploads/2009/10/DSC_2167-1024x556.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 530px; height: 287px;" src="http://ashleymaxwellphoto.com/blog/wp-content/uploads/2009/10/DSC_2167-1024x556.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://ashleymaxwellphoto.com/blog/wp-content/uploads/2009/08/DSC_6946b-682x1024.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 454px; height: 681px;" src="http://ashleymaxwellphoto.com/blog/wp-content/uploads/2009/08/DSC_6946b-682x1024.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://ashleymaxwellphoto.com/blog/wp-content/uploads/2009/10/DSC_1856a1-1024x726.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 447px; height: 316px;" src="http://ashleymaxwellphoto.com/blog/wp-content/uploads/2009/10/DSC_1856a1-1024x726.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://ashleymaxwellphoto.com/blog/wp-content/uploads/2009/11/DSC_4856-1024x758.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 338px; height: 249px;" src="http://ashleymaxwellphoto.com/blog/wp-content/uploads/2009/11/DSC_4856-1024x758.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://ashleymaxwellphoto.com/blog/wp-content/uploads/2009/11/DSC_7768a-1024x931.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 525px; height: 477px;" src="http://ashleymaxwellphoto.com/blog/wp-content/uploads/2009/11/DSC_7768a-1024x931.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;http://www.ashleymaxwellphoto.com/index2.php&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She did a friend of a friends wedding recently... She captures just the look and style I love. I fell in love with the south this past summer. The music, the BBQs, the trees, the picnics, the fireflies, the country... Its beautiful. Quite like a dream. That's def not all she does. She does many things apart from capturing  things found in the deep South, but I fell in love with her work because of the southern feel to some of her photos I stumbled upon....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/548011808217205696-34161579831307218?l=desiraemarks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://desiraemarks.blogspot.com/feeds/34161579831307218/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=548011808217205696&amp;postID=34161579831307218' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/548011808217205696/posts/default/34161579831307218'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/548011808217205696/posts/default/34161579831307218'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://desiraemarks.blogspot.com/2010/02/i-found-beautiful-photographer.html' title='I found a beautiful Photographer'/><author><name>Desiraé Rochelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08855252072464507232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oZAhjk3CXBA/SpSJS1v4RqI/AAAAAAAAAHo/RXPW5RArwM8/S220/DSCF4032.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-548011808217205696.post-9129092677073318658</id><published>2010-01-24T23:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-04-08T02:15:42.936-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I'm healing. It hurts. But rawness only leads to newness if cared for properly. So I'm embracing this pain; knowing it will lead to life.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/548011808217205696-9129092677073318658?l=desiraemarks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://desiraemarks.blogspot.com/feeds/9129092677073318658/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=548011808217205696&amp;postID=9129092677073318658' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/548011808217205696/posts/default/9129092677073318658'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/548011808217205696/posts/default/9129092677073318658'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://desiraemarks.blogspot.com/2010/01/love-goes-free.html' title=''/><author><name>Desiraé Rochelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08855252072464507232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oZAhjk3CXBA/SpSJS1v4RqI/AAAAAAAAAHo/RXPW5RArwM8/S220/DSCF4032.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-548011808217205696.post-9143994783915518218</id><published>2010-01-10T00:07:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-10T00:09:55.913-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Tonight...</title><content type='html'>Someone I've just met said "I love your laugh, it makes me want to meet an angel". And he was full of laughter all night, you could tell he really treasured it.&lt;br /&gt;This made me feel wonderful.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/548011808217205696-9143994783915518218?l=desiraemarks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://desiraemarks.blogspot.com/feeds/9143994783915518218/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=548011808217205696&amp;postID=9143994783915518218' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/548011808217205696/posts/default/9143994783915518218'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/548011808217205696/posts/default/9143994783915518218'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://desiraemarks.blogspot.com/2010/01/tonight.html' title='Tonight...'/><author><name>Desiraé Rochelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08855252072464507232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oZAhjk3CXBA/SpSJS1v4RqI/AAAAAAAAAHo/RXPW5RArwM8/S220/DSCF4032.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-548011808217205696.post-2302000378022091993</id><published>2009-12-29T22:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-29T22:55:34.574-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Watching our first snow fall</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oZAhjk3CXBA/Szr5XzgbzOI/AAAAAAAAALc/uA018xzMFj8/s1600-h/DSC05579.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oZAhjk3CXBA/Szr5XzgbzOI/AAAAAAAAALc/uA018xzMFj8/s400/DSC05579.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5420919288852368610" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oZAhjk3CXBA/Szr5AzniQEI/AAAAAAAAALU/FPWyZfE61cM/s1600-h/DSC05579.JPG"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/548011808217205696-2302000378022091993?l=desiraemarks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://desiraemarks.blogspot.com/feeds/2302000378022091993/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=548011808217205696&amp;postID=2302000378022091993' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/548011808217205696/posts/default/2302000378022091993'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/548011808217205696/posts/default/2302000378022091993'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://desiraemarks.blogspot.com/2009/12/watching-our-first-snow-fall.html' title='Watching our first snow fall'/><author><name>Desiraé Rochelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08855252072464507232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oZAhjk3CXBA/SpSJS1v4RqI/AAAAAAAAAHo/RXPW5RArwM8/S220/DSCF4032.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oZAhjk3CXBA/Szr5XzgbzOI/AAAAAAAAALc/uA018xzMFj8/s72-c/DSC05579.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-548011808217205696.post-8501712694699603802</id><published>2009-11-24T23:28:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-25T00:08:23.319-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Lemon Skewers</title><content type='html'>"You're a busy girl; getting your house painted and taking out the trash all in one day" The stranger said with a hacking laugh.&lt;br /&gt;"Ha, ya, not much effort on my part with the house; but it sure is looking good! I'm sorry, are you their brother?"&lt;br /&gt;"Hell no. I'm Patties boyfriend. Brian. The brother is in side"&lt;br /&gt;"Oh ok, yeah I knew he was going to be flying into town soon, so he could - well spend some time with Marriane"&lt;br /&gt;"Well, Marriane died yesterday".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...........&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so it began. Prayers rushing through my head. Through my heart.&lt;br /&gt;Questions.&lt;br /&gt;                      Shock.&lt;br /&gt;     Relief.&lt;br /&gt;                              Sorrow.&lt;br /&gt;            Regret.&lt;br /&gt;                           A desire to comfort.&lt;br /&gt;silence.&lt;br /&gt;                    affection.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I walked inside passed Brian and the grilling lemon beef  skewers on the porch without knocking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And just hugged her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"God you smell amazing" Patty exclaimed as playing with my hair.&lt;br /&gt;"I just got out of a Lavender bath"&lt;br /&gt;"Shit, I thought I smelt good. Look at me  - I finally showered. But smell me, I don't smell anything like that"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I spend hours there. I could write down so much, but frankly I'd rather keep it closer to my heart than (paper).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What a messed up family. A broken, screwed up piece of work. His piece of work. And they have screwed it up. We have screwed it up. Thats not what Family is suppose to look like.&lt;br /&gt;Still, with so much energy, life and happiness. Still part of the imago Dei; it makes them a beautifully broken people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dear God.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The hospital bed was gone. There were actually couches in the living room again. The whole house was 'clean'. It was weird. I miss her.&lt;br /&gt;And I was just getting to know Marriane.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Brian gave me way too much food to eat. It was amazing; a scrumptious Norwegian lemon sauce drizzled over rice and kabobs. Patty gave me frozen zuccine bread, a smoke, pineapple rum, and a cat toy for Thor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I helped them look for a new house to live in. Well, a trailer. If anyone is selling their 30 ft trailer home for 3,000 bucks let me know - I have a buyer.&lt;br /&gt;They might be loosing their house. Their grandparents built it in the 20's.&lt;br /&gt;If they loose it, if Patty looses it, its because Her brother has sold it, and refused to let her live in a house that is fully paid for, and owed by the family.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dan loves money. (says Patty)&lt;br /&gt;He went to college.&lt;br /&gt;He has a job.&lt;br /&gt;The only one in the family.&lt;br /&gt;The executor of estate.&lt;br /&gt;Gets to do whatever he wants with mommies things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So Patty will live in a trailer; with Brain. Whom shes tried to dump 2 months ago.&lt;br /&gt;"The man won't go away. Says he loves me. Hes a good man, he just drinks too much."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went out on the porch, into the kitchen, in the back room, &amp;amp;c. with Patty.&lt;br /&gt;We followed each other around. Kept on saying how much we liked each other.&lt;br /&gt;We talked. She cried. I tried not to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She needs a God to let her know their is something. Something.&lt;br /&gt;Something better then what she knows.&lt;br /&gt;She has been living in death.&lt;br /&gt;Death is what Patty has been living, dreaming and breathing the past few months.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God give her life.&lt;br /&gt;I dont want her to go the way Marriane went.&lt;br /&gt;God I miss her. I didnt even know her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm buying Patty Lavender soap tomorrow.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/548011808217205696-8501712694699603802?l=desiraemarks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://desiraemarks.blogspot.com/feeds/8501712694699603802/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=548011808217205696&amp;postID=8501712694699603802' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/548011808217205696/posts/default/8501712694699603802'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/548011808217205696/posts/default/8501712694699603802'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://desiraemarks.blogspot.com/2009/11/lemon-skewers.html' title='Lemon Skewers'/><author><name>Desiraé Rochelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08855252072464507232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oZAhjk3CXBA/SpSJS1v4RqI/AAAAAAAAAHo/RXPW5RArwM8/S220/DSCF4032.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-548011808217205696.post-5417451171154293067</id><published>2009-11-21T23:34:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-21T23:36:14.739-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Corporate prob does it just to get a laugh at the smaller man...</title><content type='html'>Fred Myer's paper bags lead to public displays of embarrassment. Second time now it has ripped open in the st. as I walk home.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/548011808217205696-5417451171154293067?l=desiraemarks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://desiraemarks.blogspot.com/feeds/5417451171154293067/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=548011808217205696&amp;postID=5417451171154293067' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/548011808217205696/posts/default/5417451171154293067'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/548011808217205696/posts/default/5417451171154293067'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://desiraemarks.blogspot.com/2009/11/corporate-prob-does-it-just-to-get.html' title='Corporate prob does it just to get a laugh at the smaller man...'/><author><name>Desiraé Rochelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08855252072464507232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oZAhjk3CXBA/SpSJS1v4RqI/AAAAAAAAAHo/RXPW5RArwM8/S220/DSCF4032.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-548011808217205696.post-193050780366363962</id><published>2009-11-10T02:07:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-12T00:24:14.912-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Before Its too far past.....</title><content type='html'>These are things made, experienced, accomplished and thus and so in the summer of 2009.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;......I graduated with a BA in Religion (concentration; Pastoral Studies) with some of the best friends ill ever have!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oZAhjk3CXBA/Svk9_3HYS8I/AAAAAAAAAI0/X_wCUrTjnVs/s1600-h/n176800468_30571514_7788145.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oZAhjk3CXBA/Svk9_3HYS8I/AAAAAAAAAI0/X_wCUrTjnVs/s320/n176800468_30571514_7788145.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5402417395343576002" border="0" /&gt;.................&lt;/a&gt;..........................................................................................................................................&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oZAhjk3CXBA/SvvDYoffsKI/AAAAAAAAAKs/LGg28J3oXs0/s1600-h/DSCN2822.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oZAhjk3CXBA/SvvDYoffsKI/AAAAAAAAAKs/LGg28J3oXs0/s200/DSCN2822.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5403127005914837154" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_oZAhjk3CXBA/SvvDYHm_H9I/AAAAAAAAAKk/JTuLD8dZgC8/s1600-h/DSCN2816.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 244px; height: 183px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_oZAhjk3CXBA/SvvDYHm_H9I/AAAAAAAAAKk/JTuLD8dZgC8/s200/DSCN2816.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5403126997087887314" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oZAhjk3CXBA/SvvDXhcT5NI/AAAAAAAAAKc/RSaljjg8BXc/s1600-h/DSCN2792.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 164px; height: 123px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oZAhjk3CXBA/SvvDXhcT5NI/AAAAAAAAAKc/RSaljjg8BXc/s200/DSCN2792.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5403126986842563794" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oZAhjk3CXBA/SvlCS1yRqcI/AAAAAAAAAJs/3LqDqi_ihy0/s1600-h/DSCN2750.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oZAhjk3CXBA/SvlCS1yRqcI/AAAAAAAAAJs/3LqDqi_ihy0/s200/DSCN2750.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5402422119450651074" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Canned, picked, baked and cooked the summer away....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_oZAhjk3CXBA/SvlBuEGpHeI/AAAAAAAAAJc/_gQ6MYJCow0/s1600-h/DSCN2754.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_oZAhjk3CXBA/SvlBuEGpHeI/AAAAAAAAAJc/_gQ6MYJCow0/s200/DSCN2754.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5402421487639010786" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_oZAhjk3CXBA/SvlB_f1U-LI/AAAAAAAAAJk/9fFqvLJ4rdg/s1600-h/DSCN2837.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_oZAhjk3CXBA/SvlB_f1U-LI/AAAAAAAAAJk/9fFqvLJ4rdg/s200/DSCN2837.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5402421787140356274" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oZAhjk3CXBA/SvvDYzhzd1I/AAAAAAAAAK0/eF7K1HUksXQ/s1600-h/DSCN2847.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oZAhjk3CXBA/SvvDYzhzd1I/AAAAAAAAAK0/eF7K1HUksXQ/s200/DSCN2847.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5403127008877311826" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oZAhjk3CXBA/SvvCjpBy_NI/AAAAAAAAAKU/L2n1dP1xCus/s1600-h/DSCN2779.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oZAhjk3CXBA/SvvCjpBy_NI/AAAAAAAAAKU/L2n1dP1xCus/s200/DSCN2779.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5403126095525641426" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;eh... who am I kidding. Summer is long gone, and this is just way way too much effort to arrange photos that resist being arranged. Dang blog layout.&lt;br /&gt;Anyways, I love summer.... but I am enjoying Fall for the first time in three years now. Therefore revisiting a season that is past seems pointless right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I shall bask in the beauty of my new city, and to me, this long lost season of Autumn!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/548011808217205696-193050780366363962?l=desiraemarks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://desiraemarks.blogspot.com/feeds/193050780366363962/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=548011808217205696&amp;postID=193050780366363962' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/548011808217205696/posts/default/193050780366363962'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/548011808217205696/posts/default/193050780366363962'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://desiraemarks.blogspot.com/2009/11/before-its-too-far-past.html' title='Before Its too far past.....'/><author><name>Desiraé Rochelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08855252072464507232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oZAhjk3CXBA/SpSJS1v4RqI/AAAAAAAAAHo/RXPW5RArwM8/S220/DSCF4032.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oZAhjk3CXBA/Svk9_3HYS8I/AAAAAAAAAI0/X_wCUrTjnVs/s72-c/n176800468_30571514_7788145.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-548011808217205696.post-217560438443515332</id><published>2009-11-10T00:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-12T01:24:08.859-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I handed her the cancer stick, and watched her die</title><content type='html'>Marianne was born in that house, and will die in that house. She says she has two more weeks to live; she can feel it coming to an end.&lt;br /&gt;     I heard this for the first time from her drunk sister; through her tears. Her tears and defensive laughter, as we stand on the porch and thank each other for being such amazing neighbors.&lt;br /&gt;Ive just moved into the neighborhood, and tonight a got a beautiful, and painful gimps of what it will look like to be a loving neighbor to these sisters.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Patty, and Marianne, and their little sister (RIP).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They smoke, get cancer, smoke on their death bed and die.&lt;br /&gt;      And I?&lt;br /&gt; I help.&lt;br /&gt; I  hold the cancer stick to Marianne's mouth and watch her inhale her lethal love.&lt;br /&gt;      I lite the cigarette, take a few drags, taste the glorious death and pass it to her. Except she can't hold it, because she has lost all mobility in her limbs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The cancer started in her lungs. Then moved to her spine and has slowly been demobilizing her. First her legs. Then her neck. Now her arms.&lt;br /&gt;So I bring the fag to her lips and let her inhale.&lt;br /&gt;I lift her arms up to help her stretch. I bring pop to her mouth to quench her thirst. I adjust her pillow to get rid of the pain, and move her hospital bed so she will stop drowning in her film.&lt;br /&gt;She has lost all her Independence, and so she cries. She cries to the stranger in her house because shes so utterly scared. Scared to death.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Marianne asked me for a shot gun, so she could kill herself tonight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Smoking has never bothered me before. Good friends of mine have smoked, family, men Ive dated; ones I've loved, and love. Never have I asked them to stop. Its their prerogative. Its their body. And its thier decision. I respect them. I love them. No matter what.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight, while I took a drag of the all too familiar Marlboro Light and put it in a dieing woman's mouth; in front of the sweet 7th grade neighbor; I hesitated.&lt;br /&gt;It bothered me for the first time.&lt;br /&gt;I wanted to lie to her and tell her I couldn't find the lighter. I felt wrong. Confused.  I was willingly being apart of a murder. A murder that started decades ago. At this point, I'm not apart of anything that hadn't already happened in full force.&lt;br /&gt;Her body has been taken over already. She will die soon. Im now helping ease the pain. Giving her a taste of a familiar comfort.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    You know, it wouldn't have been a lie. I couldn't find the lighter in their cluttered house. So that could have been the end of my conflicted thought.&lt;br /&gt;No. Not for me though.&lt;br /&gt;I went next door, unlocked my new house, grabbed some matches and came back to her in her hospital bed, and I lit one up for her. And we shared a cigarette.&lt;br /&gt;Without regret.&lt;br /&gt;But not without sadness.&lt;br /&gt;Not without questions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I wish you had moved in two years ago" She says in a haggared voice.&lt;br /&gt;"Why's that?" I ask.&lt;br /&gt;"Because I would have like to have gotten to know you"&lt;br /&gt;"We have all night, I'm not going anywhere until your sister gets back. Tell me about your self"&lt;br /&gt;and so the hours of conversation began.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I left the house having given a cigarette kiss.&lt;br /&gt;That's coming from a woman that has only ever received them before.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am so deeply moved that I happened to stumbled upon this evening.&lt;br /&gt;I plan on having many more; nights of truth and cigarette kisses.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/548011808217205696-217560438443515332?l=desiraemarks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://desiraemarks.blogspot.com/feeds/217560438443515332/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=548011808217205696&amp;postID=217560438443515332' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/548011808217205696/posts/default/217560438443515332'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/548011808217205696/posts/default/217560438443515332'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://desiraemarks.blogspot.com/2009/11/i-handed-her-cancer-stick-and-watched.html' title='I handed her the cancer stick, and watched her die'/><author><name>Desiraé Rochelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08855252072464507232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oZAhjk3CXBA/SpSJS1v4RqI/AAAAAAAAAHo/RXPW5RArwM8/S220/DSCF4032.JPG'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-548011808217205696.post-2682265071498358551</id><published>2008-06-24T17:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-11-13T12:00:32.186-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oZAhjk3CXBA/SGGQbdpmlPI/AAAAAAAAAFk/_B0mxEimEmU/s1600-h/Aix-En-Provence+%2708+611.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oZAhjk3CXBA/SGGQbdpmlPI/AAAAAAAAAFk/_B0mxEimEmU/s400/Aix-En-Provence+%2708+611.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5215608644961735922" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt; The square's troubadour. I wake up to him most mornings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oZAhjk3CXBA/SGGPvkcduaI/AAAAAAAAAFc/24MQq-VRnMg/s1600-h/Aix-En-Provence+%2708+400.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oZAhjk3CXBA/SGGPvkcduaI/AAAAAAAAAFc/24MQq-VRnMg/s400/Aix-En-Provence+%2708+400.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5215607890871433634" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="offreGdtitre"&gt;                         &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt; The annual &lt;span class="offreGdtitre"&gt;                       VIDE GRENIER - COURS SEXTIUS - an amazing flea market&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oZAhjk3CXBA/SGGNbT6DneI/AAAAAAAAAFE/z4jdkj21Eto/s1600-h/Aix-En-Provence+%2708+226.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oZAhjk3CXBA/SGGNbT6DneI/AAAAAAAAAFE/z4jdkj21Eto/s400/Aix-En-Provence+%2708+226.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5215605343811509730" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;   My most treasured courtyard. It used to be a mansion of some French Aristocrats - and now serves as apartments.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span class="offreGdtitre"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oZAhjk3CXBA/SGGPG3gJHiI/AAAAAAAAAFU/Lrtr_DXF2zc/s1600-h/Aix-En-Provence+%2708+604.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oZAhjk3CXBA/SGGPG3gJHiI/AAAAAAAAAFU/Lrtr_DXF2zc/s400/Aix-En-Provence+%2708+604.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5215607191612497442" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The view out of my present apartment at about 9am. Thriving market!  &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oZAhjk3CXBA/SGGPG3gJHiI/AAAAAAAAAFU/Lrtr_DXF2zc/s1600-h/Aix-En-Provence+%2708+604.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 102, 0);"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/548011808217205696-2682265071498358551?l=desiraemarks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://desiraemarks.blogspot.com/feeds/2682265071498358551/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=548011808217205696&amp;postID=2682265071498358551' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/548011808217205696/posts/default/2682265071498358551'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/548011808217205696/posts/default/2682265071498358551'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://desiraemarks.blogspot.com/2008/06/squares-troubadour.html' title=''/><author><name>Desiraé Rochelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08855252072464507232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oZAhjk3CXBA/SpSJS1v4RqI/AAAAAAAAAHo/RXPW5RArwM8/S220/DSCF4032.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oZAhjk3CXBA/SGGQbdpmlPI/AAAAAAAAAFk/_B0mxEimEmU/s72-c/Aix-En-Provence+%2708+611.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-548011808217205696.post-5095220248197126734</id><published>2008-06-24T16:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-24T16:57:40.004-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Bursting at the seams</title><content type='html'>I'm moving again tomorrow. I’ve been doing this quite often this summer. Each location Ive been in brings in a new season. And as I said at the beginning of the summer - I am going to embrace each and every one of those seasons.&lt;br /&gt;Some have been much much harder to embrace than others. But complaining about where your at does you no good at all. It dampens your spirits, and then everything looks grey.&lt;br /&gt;I refuse to have a grey life.&lt;br /&gt;Is been beaming with color while I’ve been in Provence, and I bask in the brightness of it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So tomorrow I wrap up another season, and move to a new apartment. I will remain in the city - but will escape the ruckus a bit  - that was talked about in ‘ New Rhythm‘, and for that I am pleased!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then on Monday the real madness begins! Everything has been escalating to these next two weeks. All the preparation, anticipation and the  prayers directed towards the camps will unfold. And God will move.&lt;br /&gt;That is garentueed. He is invited into each and every second of these camps, and He will show up and move deeper then most of us involved will ever know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I leave for Adventure Youth camp on Monday. Were we will be spending a week with 30 teenagers doing ropes course, white water rafting, caving, canoeing and laser tag, while teaching them about Gods grace through a different parable every night! &lt;br /&gt;Please partner with us in prayer. For safety!&lt;br /&gt;Most of these students don’t know the Lord, and rarely have the opportunity to. Pray that an intimacy with God will take root, and become apart of them for the rest of there life. This is such a crucial time in these kids lives, as they start to deifier through what faith looks like, and how they choose to interact with it and allow to affect their daily lives.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The following Monday is our Kids camp. Aixcalibure! This is the camp I was a counselor for last year - and really is what had me come back to live in Aix this summer. We have about 50 kids coming, and have started to have to waitlist kids! And no, those 50 are not coming from within the church. Most of them again, are kids from the community. Kids at  the schools, children of local restaurant owners, anyone we know around town this last month  has a child has gotten a flyer!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let the children come.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Please pray that everyone working this camp will reflect Christ. That connections will be made with families. And that bridges will be built from ICCP to the parents - because many of these parents WILL not step foot in a church. Or publicly call them selves ‘on the fence’ about their faith - but they will bring there kids to camp, and invite 4 other kids to come along as well!&lt;br /&gt;God moves outside the church, and we embrace that during camp!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I got back to the states. Not knowing when I will ever return.&lt;br /&gt;God is moving in my heart quite a but the last few days. Sleep hasn’t really been an option - for He has kept me up. Or woken me up after I’ve finally dozed off.&lt;br /&gt;I’m continuing to rest in Him, although its not as natural as it was when I first arrived here. He is sovereign, and I need to walk in that. No need to be anxious - for the God of peace that surpasses all understanding will guard my heart and mind. (Phil 4)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My time here is starting to wrap up  - while at the same time It’s bursting at the seams.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you for all your prayers and support.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/548011808217205696-5095220248197126734?l=desiraemarks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://desiraemarks.blogspot.com/feeds/5095220248197126734/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=548011808217205696&amp;postID=5095220248197126734' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/548011808217205696/posts/default/5095220248197126734'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/548011808217205696/posts/default/5095220248197126734'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://desiraemarks.blogspot.com/2008/06/bursting-at-seams.html' title='Bursting at the seams'/><author><name>Desiraé Rochelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08855252072464507232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oZAhjk3CXBA/SpSJS1v4RqI/AAAAAAAAAHo/RXPW5RArwM8/S220/DSCF4032.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-548011808217205696.post-8717177453556007700</id><published>2008-06-14T08:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-14T08:29:15.795-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Just Love</title><content type='html'>Sometimes we are more in a hurry to save the world than Jesus is. Ministers make the mistake of forcing a 3 point sermon and alter call to get all those lost and dying souls saved and on their way.&lt;br /&gt;I do believe that souls without Christ are lost and dying an eternal death, but one mustn’t forget the importance of walking with someone through life; vs. shoving them out the front door with their new found religion.&lt;br /&gt;Introducing someone to Christ here in France takes time. Not because Jesus is unapproachable to them, but because Christianity is. It’s this way with many people across the globe.&lt;br /&gt;This religious intuition often looks like a cult to them - and is the furthest from what they are looking for. They don’t need another institution to follow and be trapped in - and that’s also not what Christ has set up for us.&lt;br /&gt;Everyone on the face of the earth, young and old is looking for joy and love. Those things can be found in Christ Jesus.&lt;br /&gt;It is therefore our role as followers of Christ to model those elements.&lt;br /&gt;Not just talk about them. But live them.&lt;br /&gt;Give love, and show the eternal Joy that God almighty produces in your life.&lt;br /&gt;This is the most effective way to minister.&lt;br /&gt;Live as Christ lived.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The problem with this is that sometimes, we feel like we aren’t doing our job when we don’t talk about our Jesus. The ministry I am doing in France is very ‘passive’ compared to say, street evangelism. Because that form of ministry would NOT work here, you have to get settled into a city, meet the locals and become apart of the community. This is what I have been doing for the past month. This is what the missionaries I work with have been doing for years. &lt;br /&gt;I have been living life with these people, and constantly praying that my life is reflecting Christ.&lt;br /&gt;The God of peace the transcends ALL understanding will guide your heart and soul (Phil 4)&lt;br /&gt;His peace is evident in my life. I have never felt His peace more then I do right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let me assure you that God is moving in France. Through interactions with the young girl at the café, the man at the local restaurant I visit often, the children I play with on recess, the college students I meet in the pub and on the street, the couple that owns the Italian restaurant, the kids that come to youth, the girl at the local bookstore. He is moving. He is evident.&lt;br /&gt;Amazing conversations are happening with people that would never step foot in a church.&lt;br /&gt;Relationships are being made and nurtured with the love of Christ.&lt;br /&gt;If they wont come to church, then we will go to them, and be a light in their dark world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0);"&gt;Love. Joy. Peace. Patience. Kindness. Goodness, Faithfulness. Gentleness. Self-control. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is how you show Christ. Embody His fruit. Allow the Spirit to move in and through you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you’re a Christian, here’s a question to ask yourself about your relationships with those who don’t know Christ:&lt;br /&gt;Would I love them even if, in the end they didn’t accept my God?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People can tell if they are being used as a project. I encourage every follower of Christ (myself included!) to have unconditional love for ALL. &lt;span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 0);"&gt;No matter what the end result of your love is. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just love. For Christ loves those who will accept Him in the end or not.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/548011808217205696-8717177453556007700?l=desiraemarks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://desiraemarks.blogspot.com/feeds/8717177453556007700/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=548011808217205696&amp;postID=8717177453556007700' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/548011808217205696/posts/default/8717177453556007700'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/548011808217205696/posts/default/8717177453556007700'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://desiraemarks.blogspot.com/2008/06/just-love.html' title='Just Love'/><author><name>Desiraé Rochelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08855252072464507232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oZAhjk3CXBA/SpSJS1v4RqI/AAAAAAAAAHo/RXPW5RArwM8/S220/DSCF4032.JPG'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-548011808217205696.post-7065424056032036883</id><published>2008-06-12T16:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-11-13T12:00:32.542-08:00</updated><title type='text'>New Rhythm</title><content type='html'>Tranquility to bustle&lt;br /&gt;Once secluded and at peace;&lt;br /&gt;Allowed to breath in silence&lt;br /&gt;Now a constant roar is among me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Town was at the distance of a long peaceful walk&lt;br /&gt;Crowded, twisted streets now are my only ways of escape&lt;br /&gt;Unless the chaos is rejected;&lt;br /&gt;By means of dingy white shutters&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I close them and I close out the world&lt;br /&gt;I now direct my own again&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They’re my only means of escaping the raucous&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But wait… the stairs take me higher&lt;br /&gt;Past the once used store mannequins&lt;br /&gt;Higher&lt;br /&gt;Beyond the French chest and book self&lt;br /&gt;Higher still I go&lt;br /&gt;With the height comes light&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I pause&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And look through the inglorious stain glass door&lt;br /&gt;It leads nowhere&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One more flight, higher yet I go&lt;br /&gt;Through the small wooden door there - there is my escape&lt;br /&gt;Four stories high and the roar is now but a whisper&lt;br /&gt;An afterthought&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oZAhjk3CXBA/SFG4a-ENXZI/AAAAAAAAAEk/A7bl_dgTehM/s1600-h/Aix-En-Provence+%2708+548.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oZAhjk3CXBA/SFG4a-ENXZI/AAAAAAAAAEk/A7bl_dgTehM/s200/Aix-En-Provence+%2708+548.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5211149017321135506" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The wind takes over here&lt;br /&gt;He moves me to a fresh tune&lt;br /&gt;A faster song he sings; he directs his own&lt;br /&gt;And allows me to breath in a new rhythm&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/548011808217205696-7065424056032036883?l=desiraemarks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://desiraemarks.blogspot.com/feeds/7065424056032036883/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=548011808217205696&amp;postID=7065424056032036883' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/548011808217205696/posts/default/7065424056032036883'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/548011808217205696/posts/default/7065424056032036883'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://desiraemarks.blogspot.com/2008/06/new-rhythm.html' title='New Rhythm'/><author><name>Desiraé Rochelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08855252072464507232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oZAhjk3CXBA/SpSJS1v4RqI/AAAAAAAAAHo/RXPW5RArwM8/S220/DSCF4032.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oZAhjk3CXBA/SFG4a-ENXZI/AAAAAAAAAEk/A7bl_dgTehM/s72-c/Aix-En-Provence+%2708+548.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-548011808217205696.post-2163597650401894339</id><published>2008-06-01T15:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-01T15:40:12.443-07:00</updated><title type='text'>It is well</title><content type='html'>When peace, like a river, attendeth my way,&lt;br /&gt;When sorrows like sea billows roll;&lt;br /&gt;Whatever my lot, Thou has taught me to say,&lt;br /&gt;It is well, it is well, with my soul.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We sang this tonight at church, and I barley made it past this first verse. While not realizing the great impact these words would have on me, my eyes started to swell and I was overcome with a strong sense of nostalgia, history and meaning.  My eyes just acted upon memory and started to weep.&lt;br /&gt;This song is so powerful. The lyrics yes, but the way the words flow with such great power and heart is what really makes this hymn epic, and brought me to tears.&lt;br /&gt;I think I sang this song very soon after a friend of mine died.&lt;br /&gt;That’s why it moves me so.&lt;br /&gt;The struggle with saying ‘It is well’ while facing death is what I believe I was re-experiencing.&lt;br /&gt;Horatio Gates Spafford, who wrote this song wrote it in the midst of dealing with the sharp sting of death as well. While doing some research on this hymn tonight, and read something that caught my eye. Soon after the loss of many of their children, and much of their fortune his wife recalled a friend saying; “it's easy to be grateful and good when you have so much, but take care that you are not a fair-weather friend to God." That is the heart of this song.&lt;br /&gt;No matter what scenario you are in, one is always able to say ‘It is well with my soul”.&lt;br /&gt;It is well. Its is well because our soul still has a place with our Father. He is our refuge and strength in a time of need (Psalms 46)&lt;br /&gt;It is well because we can find rest in Him.&lt;br /&gt;It is well still because although pain has hit us here on earth we have eternal hope.&lt;br /&gt;We have hope in what is to come.&lt;br /&gt;We have hope in the Prince of Peace.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the midst of everything&lt;br /&gt;Its is well, it is well, with my soul.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/548011808217205696-2163597650401894339?l=desiraemarks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://desiraemarks.blogspot.com/feeds/2163597650401894339/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=548011808217205696&amp;postID=2163597650401894339' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/548011808217205696/posts/default/2163597650401894339'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/548011808217205696/posts/default/2163597650401894339'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://desiraemarks.blogspot.com/2008/06/it-is-well.html' title='It is well'/><author><name>Desiraé Rochelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08855252072464507232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oZAhjk3CXBA/SpSJS1v4RqI/AAAAAAAAAHo/RXPW5RArwM8/S220/DSCF4032.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-548011808217205696.post-7072033078725364639</id><published>2008-05-23T16:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-11-13T12:00:32.899-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Renewal</title><content type='html'>I made it to the park finally!&lt;br /&gt;I had been planning on it for days… weeks it seems like, but the weather kept on getting in my way. Turns out all the storms were a blessing… they say Aix is never this lush! &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oZAhjk3CXBA/SDdXxGXVM6I/AAAAAAAAAEU/D8zXzZR-i4o/s1600-h/Aix-En-Provence+%2708+043.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oZAhjk3CXBA/SDdXxGXVM6I/AAAAAAAAAEU/D8zXzZR-i4o/s200/Aix-En-Provence+%2708+043.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5203724395483575202" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The park was gleaming green. All that rain made it worth the wait.&lt;br /&gt;Tuesday was my first staff meeting. We have staff meetings every Tues from 9am-12, then the staff took me out for a welcome lunch! Then we had another meeting, for our upcoming kids camp afterwards… so after being in meetings ALL day long I went to Michele’s, bought watercolors, and a stack of paper, and heading to the park were I painted for hours.&lt;br /&gt;It seems that my entire trip has been a perfect balance of work and relaxing. My heart hasn’t longed for this much alone time ever; but I am soaking up every ounce of it! I live alone, about a 30min walk outside the city. I do most things alone. I knew this would happen, and before I left for my trip I was really dealing with the fear of being secluded so much.&lt;br /&gt;I don’t feel lonely though. I feel rejuvenated. No, I feel like I’m on my way to getting rejuvenated! I have gone through a lot, emotionally and physically this last year and it has done a toll on me!&lt;br /&gt;I had become exhausted, and sick.&lt;br /&gt;This time I have in France is just what my heart has been longing for.&lt;br /&gt;On Tuesday I was with the amazing staff of ICCP talking about ministry all day long, and in the evening I sat under a tree and painted at the park. &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_oZAhjk3CXBA/SDdXRmXVM5I/AAAAAAAAAEM/EavvNiwxOXI/s1600-h/Aix-En-Provence+%2708+056.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_oZAhjk3CXBA/SDdXRmXVM5I/AAAAAAAAAEM/EavvNiwxOXI/s200/Aix-En-Provence+%2708+056.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5203723854317695890" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I feel like God is handing me the vary thing I need on a golden platter, and allowing me to just feast.&lt;br /&gt;I am feasting on the intimacy of Christ. He is constantly reminding me that I am His beloved, and is renewing my soul. He reminds me that He loves me to the extent of wanting my soul to be flourishing, not just surviving.&lt;br /&gt;I have space here to breath. And Think. And just be.&lt;br /&gt;This is a very unique time in my life.&lt;br /&gt;I am in a time of renewal now. I am basking in the goodness of love. “I am in love Himself” (The Great Divorce, C.S Lewis)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Staff I am working with is amazing! I am so fortunate to be with them this summer, and doing ministry along side of them. I am so looking forward to all the times I will get to spend with them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Through everything point to Christ. That is the truth I have been sitting in. Rejoice in your sufferings. Paul’s letters have been speaking so much more truth to me recently. I have been going through a lot medically, and through that I am reminded that  “Suffering produces perseverance, perseverance character, and character hope.” (Romans 5:3-4)&lt;br /&gt;I am allowing this time of pain to sill reflect the goodness of God. I will reflect Him through it all.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/548011808217205696-7072033078725364639?l=desiraemarks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://desiraemarks.blogspot.com/feeds/7072033078725364639/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=548011808217205696&amp;postID=7072033078725364639' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/548011808217205696/posts/default/7072033078725364639'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/548011808217205696/posts/default/7072033078725364639'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://desiraemarks.blogspot.com/2008/05/renewal.html' title='Renewal'/><author><name>Desiraé Rochelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08855252072464507232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oZAhjk3CXBA/SpSJS1v4RqI/AAAAAAAAAHo/RXPW5RArwM8/S220/DSCF4032.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oZAhjk3CXBA/SDdXxGXVM6I/AAAAAAAAAEU/D8zXzZR-i4o/s72-c/Aix-En-Provence+%2708+043.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-548011808217205696.post-3921550247267151200</id><published>2008-05-22T14:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-11-13T12:00:33.154-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Getting lost in the City</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oZAhjk3CXBA/SDc-a2XVM2I/AAAAAAAAAD0/RZ4q4F9mPLY/s1600-h/Aix-En-Provence+%2708+073.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oZAhjk3CXBA/SDc-a2XVM2I/AAAAAAAAAD0/RZ4q4F9mPLY/s200/Aix-En-Provence+%2708+073.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5203696525440791394" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did this for the first few days here unintentionally, but today I got lost on purpose. I allowed myself to stroll through the city, with no particular place to go. With my eyes wide open I soaked in this unique city more than I had ever before. When I first got here, I felt as if I was walking through the narrow streets with tunnel vision. But with this new intent to notice I found more that the city had to offer.&lt;br /&gt;Just by my favorite art store, ‘Michele’ there is a &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_oZAhjk3CXBA/SDc_JmXVM3I/AAAAAAAAAD8/xz9qhXDlk2o/s1600-h/Aix-En-Provence+%2708+061.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_oZAhjk3CXBA/SDc_JmXVM3I/AAAAAAAAAD8/xz9qhXDlk2o/s200/Aix-En-Provence+%2708+061.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5203697328599675762" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;passage way leading into Le Palis De Justice, which is the towns courthouse. I hadn’t noticed the passage until today. Its easily overlooked with its small arched stone entrance. Just down the passage I found Sperpa, I felt at home right when I walked in! This was a little hippy/earthy store that posses some of the most gorgeous items I’ve ever seen! So I bought four of them! I bought three oversized handkerchiefs, that act more as wall décor, and a scarf. I’m getting exited to decorate my room next year at school. The lady that works there was very generous with the little French I know.&lt;br /&gt;After walking around Center Ville (the center of town) for quite some time I made it back to a book store Kerri took me too a few days before. The ‘Book and Bar’ is a English book store, which serves coffee and tea! I will be finding myself there a great deal I think. This time I found myself overhearing a book club discussing their current adventure book. The club was full of English speaking international adults anywhere from 30-50 years old. A new dream of mine is to be apart of such book club in a foreign country one day. It was just brilliant to listen to them… all extremely interesting, well traveled, full of life and intrigued with literature.&lt;br /&gt;Right before I started on my thirty minute walk home I stopped and energized myself on some good ol’ American Ben and Jerry’s. Horrible decision…. One small scoop of cherry Garcia later I spent over five US dollars. I should have just gotten gelato.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/548011808217205696-3921550247267151200?l=desiraemarks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://desiraemarks.blogspot.com/feeds/3921550247267151200/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=548011808217205696&amp;postID=3921550247267151200' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/548011808217205696/posts/default/3921550247267151200'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/548011808217205696/posts/default/3921550247267151200'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://desiraemarks.blogspot.com/2008/05/getting-lost-in-city.html' title='Getting lost in the City'/><author><name>Desiraé Rochelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08855252072464507232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oZAhjk3CXBA/SpSJS1v4RqI/AAAAAAAAAHo/RXPW5RArwM8/S220/DSCF4032.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oZAhjk3CXBA/SDc-a2XVM2I/AAAAAAAAAD0/RZ4q4F9mPLY/s72-c/Aix-En-Provence+%2708+073.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-548011808217205696.post-4384995666734731297</id><published>2008-05-16T04:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-16T04:36:23.346-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The begginings...</title><content type='html'>Its raining here, which is quite odd! It rained a bit yesturday as well while I was walking around town, but its been windy and rainy all day today! I was planning on going into town - getting some water colors, and heading to the gorgeous park to paint, and write. But the rain has changed my plans.&lt;br /&gt;Instead I have been organizing things here at the apartment, and have been reading ALL morning long (Redeeming Love, by Francine Rivers) . My glorious jet lag woke me up at 5am... so Ive had quite a bit of time on my hands! This is wierd for me.&lt;br /&gt;Im use to consantly working, and staying busy.&lt;br /&gt;It's really refreashing.&lt;br /&gt;Julie (Julie and Darren are the head pastors/missonaries of iccp) told me yesturday that I need to take advantage of the space I have now, and relax without feeling guily! Soon Ministry will pick up, and I will be more busy.&lt;br /&gt;I have a feeling that it will still be a slower pace than what I am used to though.&lt;br /&gt;Shops dont open till 9am... same with peoples front doors. They take nice, leisurely lunch's, and arn't moved as much by the high pace society I am use to... being a full time college student along with all my other responsibilities.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesturday (my first day in Aix) I met up with Kerri (another missonary) and she took me through town. I was in a juxtapose of everything feeling so familiar from last year, and everything being so new and foreign! Aix is breathtaking! One of the main streets is lined with tall lush trees that automatically take your gaze straight up toward the heavens. It's the city of fountains. There are fountians everywhere around town. That with the cobble stone, narrow paths it makes Aix such a perfect quaint little city! I am going to have such a unique summer!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will be meeting with Megan (the missonary im interning under) in the next few days, and will talk about my responsibilities this summer. So far I know that we have staff meetings on tues, youth on wed and church on sun. Along with doing the youth adventure camp, and the kids camp in a month.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ill find out more soon!&lt;br /&gt;I can feel God preparing me. He seems to have His hands very securely around me right now - I can feel Him. He has been sitting with me all morning - relaxing my spirit; preparing me for what is to come.&lt;br /&gt;I have never enjoyed being alone so much before. I thought I would be restless. But I am cherishing it. Yet I know that 2 months of this might rub me a bit. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My goal is to embrace the seasons I will be going through in the next couple months. Embrace them as Christ would.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/548011808217205696-4384995666734731297?l=desiraemarks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://desiraemarks.blogspot.com/feeds/4384995666734731297/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=548011808217205696&amp;postID=4384995666734731297' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/548011808217205696/posts/default/4384995666734731297'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/548011808217205696/posts/default/4384995666734731297'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://desiraemarks.blogspot.com/2008/05/begginings.html' title='The begginings...'/><author><name>Desiraé Rochelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08855252072464507232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oZAhjk3CXBA/SpSJS1v4RqI/AAAAAAAAAHo/RXPW5RArwM8/S220/DSCF4032.JPG'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-548011808217205696.post-2610029656830055018</id><published>2008-05-15T09:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-15T09:19:00.974-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Norwegian gods</title><content type='html'>I was flying among the gods, with Sillia, the goddess of music to my left and Thor the god of thunder and lightning to my left. For ten hours I basked in their wisdom that seemed to surpassed the ages.&lt;br /&gt;After we all exchanged the meaning and history behind our names she corrected my crocheting skills. “All you Americans do it like that. It is as if you are stabbing it to death. You will never be able to crochet silk in that manner my dear. Here…”&lt;br /&gt;At that she took away my hat, or as he liked to call it my “egg warmer”, and showed me how to do it proper. &lt;br /&gt;Thor and I chatted about his time in the Norwegian military. He had trained to be an officer, but got out of the service soon after his time was up. Thor let me into glimpse of his world throughout the whole flight. I could see him slipping in and out of consciousness while we were talking about his youth.&lt;br /&gt;“I remember when Germany had invaded Norway. They complexly took over, and we were under their rule for quite some time“&lt;br /&gt;“War is a scary thing” I said.&lt;br /&gt;“Yes, it should always be the last result. We shouldn’t ever have to end in war.” he remarked, while fading off into his memories.&lt;br /&gt;Sillia was writing Thor love letter during his time in the service. The thing that gave him hope. His goddess had left the country while she was in High School and was off studying abroad in Medford Oregon, become very fluent in her English.&lt;br /&gt;“It looked a great deal like Norway. Very green and beautiful. I enjoyed it very much. Yes, I was very pleased with Oregon” I agreed with her, I long for Oregon quite often now.&lt;br /&gt;They thought things were getting better when they were my age.&lt;br /&gt;“I remember when the Berlin wall fell. I thought then, ‘now its going to get better‘. Equal rights… no more rape. I thought the world was getting better.” Sillia said to me through her thick accent.&lt;br /&gt;“Humanity is still innately the same though” I said “We will always deal with those issues, because there will always be evil in the world we have to fight against.”&lt;br /&gt;We then went on an awfully long tangent about the current day sex trade industry.&lt;br /&gt;Two women very passionate about fighting the evil in the world, exchanging titles of books we’ve been reading about the issue, and encouraging each other in the war against injustice. &lt;br /&gt;“We cant stop fighting though, just because it is getting worse. You know, I really believe that - it is getting worse. The world wasn’t this bad when I was 21. We just have to fight harder.”&lt;br /&gt;We went on and on about world issues, politics, religion and our pasts. I felt right at home, sitting in between the gods of Norway while flying to Amsterdam. I wouldn’t have started my trip any other way.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/548011808217205696-2610029656830055018?l=desiraemarks.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://desiraemarks.blogspot.com/feeds/2610029656830055018/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=548011808217205696&amp;postID=2610029656830055018' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/548011808217205696/posts/default/2610029656830055018'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/548011808217205696/posts/default/2610029656830055018'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://desiraemarks.blogspot.com/2008/05/norwegian-gods.html' title='Norwegian gods'/><author><name>Desiraé Rochelle</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08855252072464507232</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oZAhjk3CXBA/SpSJS1v4RqI/AAAAAAAAAHo/RXPW5RArwM8/S220/DSCF4032.JPG'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry></feed>
