<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><rss xmlns:atom="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" xmlns:openSearch="http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/" xmlns:blogger="http://schemas.google.com/blogger/2008" xmlns:georss="http://www.georss.org/georss" xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0" version="2.0"><channel><atom:id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7564851225677543086</atom:id><lastBuildDate>Tue, 24 Mar 2026 07:55:04 +0000</lastBuildDate><title>Seeking...</title><description>Joshua Olsen&#39;s Blog</description><link>http://joshuajamesolsen.blogspot.com/</link><managingEditor>noreply@blogger.com (Joshua Olsen)</managingEditor><generator>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>61</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7564851225677543086.post-268862562089509691</guid><pubDate>Thu, 18 Oct 2007 22:51:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2007-10-18T15:54:29.605-07:00</atom:updated><title>An Interesting Animal</title><description>&lt;span style=&quot;font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrjODc6-DhrMFR-ASeGnm-QFJhyphenhyphennZmLILjCj75G0Cs16tBkn3WUTwU8fD254G2Co3Ygbp3LGUkpHyAUTgqMwP28uVyMYpyeirev-Miv_8HQZx7W1XFjRvfghaQtUsbvVyoDSDEhsCZoocQ/s1600-h/PWS_tanker_oil_spill.jpg&quot;&gt;&lt;img id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5122813722344405634&quot; style=&quot;FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 230px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 144px&quot; height=&quot;128&quot; alt=&quot;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrjODc6-DhrMFR-ASeGnm-QFJhyphenhyphennZmLILjCj75G0Cs16tBkn3WUTwU8fD254G2Co3Ygbp3LGUkpHyAUTgqMwP28uVyMYpyeirev-Miv_8HQZx7W1XFjRvfghaQtUsbvVyoDSDEhsCZoocQ/s200/PWS_tanker_oil_spill.jpg&quot; width=&quot;230&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Life’s an interesting animal. It’s interesting because it exists on so many plains. What do I mean? Think about it. Each day you and I wake up and start living in the second, the moment, and the hour. Our lives are a series of interactions between sleep cycles. The vast majority of the time we see our lives in the now. We live in the moment if you will. However, there are days when we make plans for the future, and days when we look to the past. These are the times when we widen the scope of out thinking and look at our lives as a whole, rather than the sum of its parts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a completely different plain exists other people’s perceptions of your life. For example, we all have people in out lives who see us up close and personal (spouses, friends, family, com-workers etc.). However, although they see our lives, they are not living them, they are only watching them. No matter how close someone is to you, they cannot live your life, because they cannot think your thoughts, dream your dream, etc (that’s kind of a big NO DAHHH). But, they can be affected by your life, and their life can affect yours.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a third plain we see that our lives are truly global. Your life will inevitably affect the course of human events. How you ask? Let’s imagine together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One afternoon you decided to stop by the grocery store to pick up some Twinkies and beer (don’t knock it till you try it). On the way into the store you reach into your pocket to find your wallet, and accidentally run into a man who is obviously in hurry and not paying attention to his surroundings. Through the process he drops his grocery bag and spills its contents all over the floor. You apologize and move on with your shopping.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meanwhile the hurried gentlemen gathers his items and starts out the door, only to realize he set down his cell phone when he bent down to pick up his groceries. He returns to the place he last saw it, but it’s not there. Quickly running to the customer service counter he retrieves the phone, which someone had turned in, and sprints to his car. He breaks every traffic law in the book trying to get home in time to drop off the groceries, and then get to the airport in time to catch a flight to L.A. to meet with his long time girlfriend who seems to be having doubts about their relationship; namely his lack of responsibility.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In a panic he drops the groceries in the living room for his roommate to put away, grabs his suitcase, but once again sets down his phone and forgets to pick it up as he runs out the door. He arrives at the airport, but finds that his flight has already boarded and his seat was given to a standby passenger, forcing him to catch the next flight which leaves in 45 minutes. Reaching into his pocket to retrieve his cell phone and call his girlfriend, he finds that his phone is nowhere to be found. This is a problem, because his girlfriend has a new number which he hasn’t memorized yet, and the new number is programmed into this cell phone. He sits down and reasons that his girlfriend will just have to wait for him on the other end.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two hours later, at the Los Angels airport a beautiful, young, female executive waits for her boyfriend. As an executive for one of the worlds largest oil transportation companies she is not accustom to being kept waiting, or dealing with men who have no concept of responsibility. Her mounting frustration over this relationship is based on the fact that her boyfriend always seems to have an excuse for his failure to follow through. She is ready to call it quits, but she struggles because she really thought that this might be “the one.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As the plane unloads she realizes that he boy friend is not on it. She calls his cell phone, which of course he doesn’t answer (because it’s sitting on the dinning room table), she tries his home phone, gets no answer, so she walks away for the last time. She’s had enough. In her anger, frustration and hurt she decides to go back to the office and finish off some lingering work. As the V.P. of transportation and logistics she’s responsible to plan the shipping manifests and logistics of huge oil shipments across the mid-Atlantic and beyond. One small screw-up and there are major, major problems.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sitting at her desk punching in some final numbers, her attention is drawn to his picture. Filled with emotions she loses focus on her work, and with one small key stroke accidentally reroutes an oil tanker. Little does she know that in 36 hours that oil tanker will run a ground in a shallow harbor, in the wrong country. Tens of thousands of gallons of raw oil will fill the harbor and kill a huge amount of natural wildlife.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our lives affect the world. Granted, our little story is a bit extreme, but you can see how it’s possible for one person to unknowingly have a global impact. It’s actually kind of fun to think about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lastly, there is God’s view of our lives. I believe God sees our lives from every vantage point. He lives in the past, in the future, and in the moment. He see’s our lives real-time and as a picture. From his vantage point there are no surprises, because he has already seen it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why do I say all of this today? It’s simple. I’m beginning to realize that our lives have meaning. Whether we know it or not our lives are impacting others. Even when we feel at our lowest, even in the midst of depression when we feel worthless, our lives are constantly impacting others. If we show up we impact people, if we isolate we impact people, no matter what we do someone will be touched by our choices. Isn’t that a huge thought?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’m starting to understand that I need to think about how my life is impacting others. I need to be sensitive to the people around me, and their perceptions of me. I have to ask questions about my choices and weigh the consequences. Even though I will never fully know the impact of my life, I need to own the responsibility I have in it. We all do. We need to think globally. We need to think locally, and we need to think relationally.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What would the world look like if we all started thinking about how our choices affect others? I don’t know. But what I do know is that my choices have hurt people. I’ve begun to think about all of this because in this season of my life, I’m a leader, and as a leader my choices will affect other people’s decisions. It’s a huge responsibility, but one that has to be thought through and acted upon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I start thinking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;</description><link>http://joshuajamesolsen.blogspot.com/2007/10/nteresting-animal.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Joshua Olsen)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrjODc6-DhrMFR-ASeGnm-QFJhyphenhyphennZmLILjCj75G0Cs16tBkn3WUTwU8fD254G2Co3Ygbp3LGUkpHyAUTgqMwP28uVyMYpyeirev-Miv_8HQZx7W1XFjRvfghaQtUsbvVyoDSDEhsCZoocQ/s72-c/PWS_tanker_oil_spill.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>6</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7564851225677543086.post-6171109781790659327</guid><pubDate>Tue, 16 Oct 2007 21:15:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2007-10-16T14:25:53.388-07:00</atom:updated><title>Sinner, Saint Combo</title><description>&lt;span style=&quot;font-family:times new roman;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWv9lYS_N0POA1LV5M23sJN4bTp5IRNs7ftPdFzZQV5azln9kjHEhdbOmdl7tUL6TAUtlFjk3YPTpzb-YwXqEWPep05SX6iwqrvGfYJqBOOH4QSGB-L2Pnyz4sZkGstStN4FoDgPx8HKXl/s1600-h/luthbeer.gif&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size:130%;&quot;&gt;&lt;img id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5122046894588410482&quot; style=&quot;FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand&quot; alt=&quot;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWv9lYS_N0POA1LV5M23sJN4bTp5IRNs7ftPdFzZQV5azln9kjHEhdbOmdl7tUL6TAUtlFjk3YPTpzb-YwXqEWPep05SX6iwqrvGfYJqBOOH4QSGB-L2Pnyz4sZkGstStN4FoDgPx8HKXl/s200/luthbeer.gif&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size:130%;&quot;&gt;I’m fat. Let’s just get it out there. Because of this fact I’m on the Atkins Diet. For those of you who have never had to diet (I hate you by the way), the Atkins is a diet on which you eat only protein (i.e. beef, chicken, eggs, bacon, cheese etc.). This diet works well for me, because these are the things I eat on a daily basis. You see, in addition to being fat I’m also a meat eater. On the Atkins I’m not allowed to have any carbs (i.e. sugar, bread, rice, etc.), so the meat is plentiful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This diet is amazingly effective; I lost 14 lbs in my first week. This is my second time on the diet; the first time I lost over 70lbs. Okay so I gained back the majority of it, but that’s not the point. The point is that if I can manage to deprive myself of anything white, then I can loose weight at a rapid rate. It’s amazing, and it’s easy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, there are a couple of problem associated with this diet plan. The first problem is that of maintenance. In other words, in order to keep the weight off, one has to commit to living a low carb lifestyle forever. Goodbye Twinkies (damn it!!!). Secondly, the body can have a difficult time processing pure protein. Frankly, taking a dump is like an act of congress. It takes forever and nothing seems to come of it. Lastly, it can result in death. Yeah, that can be a problem. Then again, death is definitely one way to loose weight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’m not sure how I manage to find spiritual significants in things such as complicated bowel movements, and bread, But I do. I guess it’s a gift. The point to all of this is simple; I’m beginning to learn that a life that is not balanced is dangerous and can even lead to spiritual death. I’ve been designed to live a balanced life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Those of you who know me know that I hate the word balance. In fact I have dedicated my life to extremes. I don’t live life in the grays; I function in black or white. I’m one of those people who either choose to do what is right, or I choose to do what’s wrong. I generally choose wrong, but I do so with the full knowledge of the possible consequences. Remember, I don’t do rules (see last blog). As a result, I find myself spiritually emaciated on a regular basis.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because of all the drama that has been surrounding my life lately; I’ve had to ask some pretty serious questions of myself. Through that process of asking questions, I’ve begun to see a pattern in my life; a pattern that exists in the extremes. I’m either hugging Gods leg like a little child, or I’m in a fist fight at some sleazy bar in Enumclaw (a little hick town about an hour out of Seattle, for our international readers). I’m either kissing the cheek of Christ, or flipping him the bird, there is no middle ground.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What I’m beginning to realize is that the extreme that I am living in is a direct result of what I am taking into my heart. I don’t want to be cliché, but it comes down to relationships. When I am truly seeking to live in relational community with Christ and other believers I tend to do well in my spiritual life. When I isolate from my community (or tribe as we call it at Turning Point Church), I find myself belly up to a bar, or pool table looking for trouble. I enjoy both, but much like the Atkins diet, to much of one or the other sends me into the extreme margins again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The answer is balance. Unlike most churches, and unlike most Christians, in my community we enjoy the freedoms granted to us by God. However, those freedoms can become a prison if they are not partaken of in balance. I have to learn to live in a state of balance. I need to be surrounded by my community of faith, but I also need some trouble causing time. I need to spend time in the scriptures, but I also need a good cigar and a drink from time to time. To much of anyone of these components and you loose the ability to process, and can even find yourself dying spiritually. There has to be a balance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’ve gotten lots of e-mails regarding my last post. Yes, the idea of a pastor sitting a field with a fifth of jack Daniels can be a little disturbing to some. I understand. But I also understand the need for transparency. Folks, I can give total discloser with my readers and over share, I can fane piety, or I can simply be real. I prefer to be real and I believe that being real provides the necessary balance. If you’re looking for sin free pastors, then I am not your man, and Turning Point probably isn’t your church. Granted, I may be a little more transparent that most, but it’s who I am. I share the same struggles, and the same temptations as anyone else. Every day I fight to be the man of God that I know I need to be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why do I feel the need to explain all of this? Well, I think it’s important that we attempt to see at the big picture. From time to time I post blogs that are abrasive, real and transparent. I do this because it allows the world to see me as I really am. It allows the people of our community to see that if their faith is placed in me they will be disappointed. And it reminds all of us that God and God alone is worthy of our honor. However, I also believe that I post blogs that are encouraging and testaments to my successes in Christ. I truly strive to provide a balanced picture of my world. With hundreds, if not thousands of readers passing through this blog there will always be someone who is blessed by its content, or offended, either way I’ve done my job. I want you to think. I want you to question your beliefs. I want you to laugh, and I want you to be pissed. Most of all I want you to see the real man behind the words, and understand that he is not God.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I have offended you with my blogs, please accept my sincerest apologies. However, I will continue to blog in the same fashion as I always have, so you may want to remove me from your reader if you are continually finding the material offensive. I love you and I know you love me, but we will have to agree to disagree on this matter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Keep the e-mails coming and keep passing the word. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;</description><link>http://joshuajamesolsen.blogspot.com/2007/10/sinner-saint-combo.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Joshua Olsen)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWv9lYS_N0POA1LV5M23sJN4bTp5IRNs7ftPdFzZQV5azln9kjHEhdbOmdl7tUL6TAUtlFjk3YPTpzb-YwXqEWPep05SX6iwqrvGfYJqBOOH4QSGB-L2Pnyz4sZkGstStN4FoDgPx8HKXl/s72-c/luthbeer.gif" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7564851225677543086.post-1461112808930497377</guid><pubDate>Sat, 13 Oct 2007 09:36:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2007-10-13T02:43:22.318-07:00</atom:updated><title>A Fifth of Jack Daniels, My Dog, and Someone Else&#39;s Life</title><description>&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family:times new roman;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNhd1ht-VLAnn1mcDMfS6KXT0u2RWyxW2rCL5HcSnRH5NEyeyO10xlcuLi7iXiKkMOMzNOceLNPo11jx_Wc17qnceunnvM7Wo-Ejl3pGwFg9URxw9AjIun1WW03gbHbDAkyAK3fGmAz0pd/s1600-h/kjiu.bmp&quot;&gt;&lt;img id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5120754358540417634&quot; style=&quot;FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 258px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 190px&quot; height=&quot;190&quot; alt=&quot;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNhd1ht-VLAnn1mcDMfS6KXT0u2RWyxW2rCL5HcSnRH5NEyeyO10xlcuLi7iXiKkMOMzNOceLNPo11jx_Wc17qnceunnvM7Wo-Ejl3pGwFg9URxw9AjIun1WW03gbHbDAkyAK3fGmAz0pd/s200/kjiu.bmp&quot; width=&quot;200&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;For those of you who are wondering; 6 hours of sleep a week is not enough. This may seem physically impossible, but I assure that it is not. I’ve spent so many hours staring at the ceiling in my room I think I’ve counted every one of those little lumps. I can’t sleep, I can’t eat, and I can’t think straight, all of which are pretty important elements of my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Early this morning around 3:30AM I couldn’t take it any longer, so I got up, got dressed and started thinking through what sort of trouble I could get in at that hour of the morning. Unfortunately, in the community where I currently suffer, there are literally no options for trouble causing at 3:30AM, so I resorted to public intoxication. I grabbed my coat, what was left of my Jack Daniels, my dog Jake, and I set out to take a walk. I hate walking, but I don’t mind drinking, so I settled for walking and drinking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jake must have been as tired as I was, cause the exuberance with which he normally moves, was seriously diminished. I think this must have been a moment of sheer sacrifice on his part, the cold grass under his feet, and the bite of the early morning frost could not have been as inviting as his favorite blanket, and for that I loved him. Some how I think he knew my soul was in knots, because he stayed right by my side. Jake has never worn a leash so he’s used to freedom, but normally he walks a foot or so off to my right. Tonight, in his own way, rubbing my right leg with each step, he protected me from myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As we walked, my mind was filled with a million different thoughts. Countless ideas, memories, and questions spun through my head with in no particular pattern. But, through the mess of thoughts one question kept nagging me, “whose life is this, and how the hell did I get in it?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I’m just going a little nuts with all the changes happening in my life, but I can’t help but feel that I’m living someone else’s life. Today I woke up a pastor. That’s right, A PASTOR!!! I’m not a pastor; I have no business being a pastor. I’m a late night drinking, tobacco chewing, flip flop wearing, bar room brawling, old hat wearing, small town living, loose cannon, I’m not a pastor. Everything I know, everything I’ve been, everything I do has had to change. Pastors are held to a higher standard, they are expected to follow rules, and enforce them on others. I don’t follow rules, I hate rules and the only enforcing I do is when someone spills my drink, or insults my mom.&lt;br /&gt;This is not my life; somehow I must have switched lives with that other guy. The guy who lived with his mom till he was 35, the guy who folds his tighty whities, the guy who went to seminary for 10 years and has initials like PhD., MDiv., or ThD. after his name.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My life doesn’t look like this. My life includes a black haired girl, a good truck, a faithful dog, a piece of land, a couple of sons, and freedom. Like Rodney Atkins says in one of his songs, “it’s a man on a tractor with a dog in a field.” My life includes calluses on my hands, dirt under my fingernails, and watching my boys grow into men.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Somewhere along that road I took a turn and I landed here. I landed behind a desk at a church, and in an elementary school soccer field, with a half empty battle of Jack Daniels at 3:30 in the morning. Then it hit me. I feel like I’m living someone else’s life, because I am. I’m living the life of the guy that God wants me to be. At this season in my life, my dreams don’t line up with Gods plan for me and I’m feeling the tension of it. I’m fighting to hold onto what I know, and God is prying my white knuckles from around the flagpole of my desires. I love the church I’m at, and I love the people I serve, but I haven’t yet given into the reality of what God has for me right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I’m a pastor. Today I have the distinct honor and privilege of helping people learn about and receive the love of their creator. Today I sit in a seat that thousands for men have trained for and would die for. Today I study the scriptures and counsel people. Today I live in the suburbs. Today I follow the rules (sort of). Today I live the life of the man that God sees in me, and not the life I’ve designed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I lay on my back in a field with my dog, looking at the stars, and I wonder what comes next. What comes next for this man I’m learning to be?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://joshuajamesolsen.blogspot.com/2007/10/fifth-of-jack-daniels-my-dog-and.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Joshua Olsen)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNhd1ht-VLAnn1mcDMfS6KXT0u2RWyxW2rCL5HcSnRH5NEyeyO10xlcuLi7iXiKkMOMzNOceLNPo11jx_Wc17qnceunnvM7Wo-Ejl3pGwFg9URxw9AjIun1WW03gbHbDAkyAK3fGmAz0pd/s72-c/kjiu.bmp" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>64</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7564851225677543086.post-5247310773564426675</guid><pubDate>Wed, 10 Oct 2007 00:31:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2007-10-09T17:31:30.367-07:00</atom:updated><title>ginkworld.net&#39; blog: i am a &quot;gutless grace girlieman&quot;</title><description>This a great post!!!!  Check it out&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;http://ginkworld.blogspot.com/2007/09/i-am-gutless-grace-girlieman.html#links&quot;&gt;ginkworld.net&#39; blog: i am a &quot;gutless grace girlieman&quot;&lt;/a&gt;</description><link>http://joshuajamesolsen.blogspot.com/2007/10/ginkworldnet-blog-i-am-gutless-grace.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Joshua Olsen)</author><thr:total>2</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7564851225677543086.post-6670383818311551206</guid><pubDate>Wed, 10 Oct 2007 00:05:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2007-10-09T17:11:31.253-07:00</atom:updated><title>Extravagant Love</title><description>&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family:times new roman;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijilPPMl_b0nlCztYQgK2qfXqmTjjgCLGG8wsQoR0J99lKLkSsu3ctm1gJqr2MIwygrEL24aEsDnip632uQOm_xUtaujuwOXaNLU9MUKoAc6Ejd0JGkZv87TiG05UByiMGTqGGfHJM8pxI/s1600-h/ddddddddd.jpg&quot;&gt;&lt;img id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5119493923077995058&quot; style=&quot;FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 161px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 244px&quot; height=&quot;200&quot; alt=&quot;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijilPPMl_b0nlCztYQgK2qfXqmTjjgCLGG8wsQoR0J99lKLkSsu3ctm1gJqr2MIwygrEL24aEsDnip632uQOm_xUtaujuwOXaNLU9MUKoAc6Ejd0JGkZv87TiG05UByiMGTqGGfHJM8pxI/s200/ddddddddd.jpg&quot; width=&quot;161&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This morning, with sleep in my eyes, I headed towards my favorite little coffee stand. Jake (my dog) and I are regulars, and Jake always gets excited when we pull up cause he knows he’s going to get a couple of milk bones. Today as I waited for my coffee I saw something that made me tear up a bit. I’m doing a lot of that lately; there must be a lot of pollen, or dirt in the air, or something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just ahead of me an old couple probably in their 70’s or 80’s pulled into a parking stall. I watched as the little old man slowly got out of the car, opened the trunk, and pulled out a wheelchair. He folded the chair into the sitting position and wheeled it to the passenger’s side where he carefully and lovingly helped his beautiful little wife out of the car and into the chair. It was cold out this morning, and the fog was still lifting, so the old man reached into the back seat and grabbed a little knitted blanket and tucked it around her shoulders. As he wheeled her away I watched as he leaned down and gently kissed her on the cheek. As if it was the first kiss of their life together she smiled, leaned into him, put her arm around his neck and hugged him tightly. As they walked off together, I was moved to my core.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I watched I couldn’t help but think of all the stories those two must share. Stories of young love, country roads and an old Chevrolet, a white wedding, the birth of their first child, the day he went off to war, and the day he came home. How many moments of laughter, have they shared? How many silent glances across a room? How many tears?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People often ask me if I believe is the concept of “soul mates.” They wonder if love exists in the real world like it does in the movies. My answer is yes. Why? Because I see that kind of love extended to me by God. Scripture tells me that real love overcomes, real love gives, real love hopes, and that real love is selfless (1 Corinthians 13). Two people who decide to receive the love of their God and then extend it to each other have the capacity to love more passionately and more extravagantly than any movie ever made.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love exists in moments. Moments like today when that old man kissed his wife, moments when we choose another over ourselves. I beginning to believe in love again, and today, in that moment, through the love of two old souls, God showed me that he still loves&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style=&quot;font-family:times new roman;&quot;&gt;me. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://joshuajamesolsen.blogspot.com/2007/10/extravagant-love.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Joshua Olsen)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijilPPMl_b0nlCztYQgK2qfXqmTjjgCLGG8wsQoR0J99lKLkSsu3ctm1gJqr2MIwygrEL24aEsDnip632uQOm_xUtaujuwOXaNLU9MUKoAc6Ejd0JGkZv87TiG05UByiMGTqGGfHJM8pxI/s72-c/ddddddddd.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7564851225677543086.post-5663484953656482529</guid><pubDate>Sun, 07 Oct 2007 21:52:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2007-10-07T14:53:58.178-07:00</atom:updated><title>Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh</title><description>&lt;span style=&quot;font-family:times new roman;&quot;&gt;Today I’m angry.  So angry in fact I’m having a hard time sitting still long enough to write this.  But my shrink says I’m supposed to write instead of hitting people, or things.  I guess that makes you all my therapy this afternoon.  Apparently, fighting is not a socially acceptable form of anger management.  Then again I’ve never really been a socially acceptable kinda guy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In addition to having a tendency to fight, I also learned at a vey young age to compress my emotions to a dangerous level.  As a child my Dad used to tell me to “control my emotions.”  He didn’t mean that I should force myself not to feel anything, but as a child that’s what I heard.  As a result, today I feel very little.  Unlike most “normal” people, I only have a couple of primary emotions to serve as my filter.  I don’t feel fear like most people, I don’t feel pain like most, and I don’t feel excitement or joy in the same ways you do.  I never really understood this until recently and now, thanks to some pretty smart people, I’m finally dealing with it.     &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You see, I’m attempting to change the way I see the world.  I’m trying to relearn how to process things and how to respond when my will comes up against society, and or, Gods.  That may sound strange, but I have a “F@#k it” mind set, which means I do what I want, when I want regardless of the consequences.  Literally for the first time in my life I’m attempting to follow the rules.  You may not understand, but this is by far the hardest thing I’ve ever done.  Every cell in by body is screaming right now. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What makes this process so hard is that I’m doing it alone.  Not in the sense that I don’t have people who care surrounding me, but I’m doing it alone in that the people I want near me through this aren’t around.  To be honest I’m beginning to feel emotions that I didn’t know I could feel.  Imagine feeling emotions for the first time at age 31.  It’s a trip, believe me! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I’m angry.  Not because I have anything to be angry about, but because I’m hurt and anger is one of the two primary emotions I use to cope.  In addition, I’m not using anything to anesthetize the pain, which is a new thing as well. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In Psalm 86:11 David asks God to unite his heart.  I’ve never really liked David all that much, because I could never really relate to his melancholy, moody, personality, but that’s beginning to change.  These days my prayer is the same.  I want God to put my heart back together again.  I want to have a heart that is united under his control.  The process hurts worse than I anticipated, but I know the end result will be wonderful. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family:times new roman;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Isn’t it amazing how far from God our heart can get without our knowledge?&lt;/span&gt;</description><link>http://joshuajamesolsen.blogspot.com/2007/10/ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Joshua Olsen)</author><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7564851225677543086.post-4680557428250823477</guid><pubDate>Sat, 06 Oct 2007 08:11:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2007-10-06T01:14:34.913-07:00</atom:updated><title>The Fathers Song</title><description>&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family:times new roman;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitH1RoKIt6fj7tLwpQr9IW6VL29zwUkBSC0VPWdOnUy0YdNMJS9WA5FbXBjtHPItffSHM4Fe_omF0_B6dsGXNFWez9GsplBKeHTz_PzUxw7NO-Cw0H-QRJNICWUZ_CLdlsAPdK4D_djXbC/s1600-h/fathers_heart_begotten.gif&quot;&gt;&lt;img id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5118134093482408482&quot; style=&quot;FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand&quot; height=&quot;172&quot; alt=&quot;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitH1RoKIt6fj7tLwpQr9IW6VL29zwUkBSC0VPWdOnUy0YdNMJS9WA5FbXBjtHPItffSHM4Fe_omF0_B6dsGXNFWez9GsplBKeHTz_PzUxw7NO-Cw0H-QRJNICWUZ_CLdlsAPdK4D_djXbC/s200/fathers_heart_begotten.gif&quot; width=&quot;176&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Wouldn&#39;t it be cool if life were set to music? You know what I mean, like in the movies. The moment you lean in for that first kiss, the Boston Philharmonic fades in with a beautiful string movement. What if every time you got in your car and rolled down the window, you heard Tom Petty singing, &quot;Free Falling?&quot; You would be a living, breathing episode of “Dawson&#39;s Creek.” How cool would that be? Okay, not so cool, Dawson&#39;s Creek was pretty lame. Not that I ever watched it. J&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have you ever thought about what the soundtrack to your life would sound like? I know it seems dumb, but it&#39;s an interesting thought. Would your life sound like a mixture of the &quot;William Tell Overture&quot; and Incubus? What about a hybrid mix of Bruce Springsteen and Enya? Undoubtedly, each of us would have a unique list of artists on our album, because we&#39;re all so beautifully different.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I wonder if God sees and hears our lives set to music. Today as I was reading in the book of Revelations it struck me that God is surrounded by a myriad of angels who always seem to be singing. I know it&#39;s not a theologically sound idea, but it&#39;s kind of a cool one don&#39;t you think?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the book of Zephaniah it says that God sings over us (Zeph 3:14-17). Have you ever thought of that? Did ever occur to you that the creator of the universe sings a song over you like a mother over her child? It&#39;s a beautiful thought. A comforting thought.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As God looks at my life today I wonder what that song would sound like. Would it be a song of joy, or a sorrowful melody that brings a tear to His eye? If I had my choice, today&#39;s song would be something slow and thoughtful; something that conveyed anticipation and hope, mixed with some loneliness. It would be a song that reminded me of friends and fond memories, some how it would say, &quot;I miss you,&quot; or &quot;remember that time when...?&quot; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family:times new roman;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How about you? What does your life sound like today? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://joshuajamesolsen.blogspot.com/2007/10/fathers-song.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Joshua Olsen)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitH1RoKIt6fj7tLwpQr9IW6VL29zwUkBSC0VPWdOnUy0YdNMJS9WA5FbXBjtHPItffSHM4Fe_omF0_B6dsGXNFWez9GsplBKeHTz_PzUxw7NO-Cw0H-QRJNICWUZ_CLdlsAPdK4D_djXbC/s72-c/fathers_heart_begotten.gif" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7564851225677543086.post-7275285762106144914</guid><pubDate>Thu, 04 Oct 2007 23:30:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2007-10-04T16:31:48.324-07:00</atom:updated><title>Then and Only Then</title><description>&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family:times new roman;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlZKQPJ3S7HFgMjDfOFH66GOv1oqEMDwiOxk7KACyJfWGi4XY-E2_PSqsEkYUFCBTr0KqE_lof5ZNGwz2RLuerDvT-9Tk1BDnoDnWX8UoCBUlBDkSYssaG7zbsTUEL6MTt2C01UwHaEc68/s1600-h/Cardboard-Broken-Heart-in-Red-Light-Photographic-Print-C12115225.jpg&quot;&gt;&lt;img id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5117628219349383698&quot; style=&quot;FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand&quot; alt=&quot;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlZKQPJ3S7HFgMjDfOFH66GOv1oqEMDwiOxk7KACyJfWGi4XY-E2_PSqsEkYUFCBTr0KqE_lof5ZNGwz2RLuerDvT-9Tk1BDnoDnWX8UoCBUlBDkSYssaG7zbsTUEL6MTt2C01UwHaEc68/s200/Cardboard-Broken-Heart-in-Red-Light-Photographic-Print-C12115225.jpg&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Remember what it felt like to watch your friend fade into nothing through the back window of your dad’s 1976 station wagon? It was on that day you pulled out of town headed to a new city where dad had the new job. How about the day you saw your best friend off to an out of state college? Do you remember how it felt? I do. I remember that sense of loss, the feeling of loneliness, the overwhelming boredom that quickly found its way into my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Researches have long said that many, if not most, of our deepest human needs are met through relationships. In other words as humans we need connections to other humans to function properly. I hate that. I know that hate is a strong word, but it’s the best word to describe how I feel about this. I hate that I have to be connected to feel normal. As a matter of fact, scripture makes the same assertion. We are all a part of a body, each of us place a specific part in a divinely appointed economy. If a single part is missing, the whole doesn’t function correctly (1 Corinthians 12).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Recently, I’ve become intimately acquainted with this truth. I’m the type of guy who chooses his friends carefully. The people that I allow into my inner circle, if you will, are people who I have first come to trust. My peeps are people who will speak truth to me, when no one else will. My entire life, I can only remember a half dozen people who were willing to look me in the eye and speak truth. For some reason people in my life are more prone to sweep my behavior under the rug, than call me out. I have a lot of protectors, but very few friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In addition to trust, my friends are people who I feel safe with. That may seem strange coming from a guy of my size and with my reputation, but even the most intimidating men are vulnerable at times. Vulnerability is not my gift, but when I am it’s like opening flood gates. In all reality, I can count my friends on one hand. I have thousands of acquaintances, and lots of people who would consider me to be their friend, but there are only five people in my world that I have given the title of “friend.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This week one of those people was temporarily removed from my circle. I say temporarily, because that’s all I’ll allow it to be (unless of course God says otherwise). Although I know that my friend has not given up on me, I feel a sense of loss. I feel as though a piece of me is missing. Every day I fight the urge to get in my truck and bring them back. It’s like the shepherd who leaves the 99 to find the 1 that is missing. However, in this particular case, the separation is healthy. I hate that it’s healthy, but it is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You see, sometimes we take what God intended for good and we twist it into something that becomes damaging to our souls. We become so dependent on another person that we lose our dependency on God. People are tangible, they feel with us, dream with us, talk to us, and share experiences with us. God on the other hand, although present at every moment, cannot be seen, heard, or felt in the physical sense. Our relationship with God calls us to live peacefully without the need for physical validation of the relationship. Damn that’s hard! I’m not the co-dependent sort, but invisible relationships are difficult nonetheless.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When a relationship with another person takes the place of our relationship with God, it’s only a matter of time before God presses the pause button. No matter how wonderful or meaningful our human relationships may seem, they should never be allowed to interrupt our relationship with Christ. When we make this mistake one of two things will happen, either God will allow us to wallow in our confusion for a season, or He will intervene until things are back on track between us and Him. I believe the decision he makes is based upon our response to his loving call in our hearts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God is a jealous lover and the intensity of his passion for us in incommunicable. The relationship he desires for us places him in first place. When we put someone else in first place, he calls out to us. If we fail to respond to his loving call, His righteous jealousy prompts him to seek us out and restore order in our hearts. When things are back in order, then and only then can we be restored to our human relationships.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today my heart hurts. It hurts because I feel the pain I’ve caused my savior, and it hurts because I miss my friend. My encouragement to all of you is this, love God first. No matter the cost; love God first. I’ll never give up on my relationship with my friend, but today I’ve learned the hard way that God will never give up on me. I find peace in that.   Read Psalm 86:11&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://joshuajamesolsen.blogspot.com/2007/10/then-and-only-then.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Joshua Olsen)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlZKQPJ3S7HFgMjDfOFH66GOv1oqEMDwiOxk7KACyJfWGi4XY-E2_PSqsEkYUFCBTr0KqE_lof5ZNGwz2RLuerDvT-9Tk1BDnoDnWX8UoCBUlBDkSYssaG7zbsTUEL6MTt2C01UwHaEc68/s72-c/Cardboard-Broken-Heart-in-Red-Light-Photographic-Print-C12115225.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7564851225677543086.post-3817159153945948725</guid><pubDate>Wed, 26 Sep 2007 19:33:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2007-09-26T12:36:26.544-07:00</atom:updated><title>Pain is Pian is Pain.</title><description>&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family:times new roman;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKCwnR6ztinQLfpeqBt5Ju-qRcHttHekM9mpDtfgX7bFPjrKt-ELPWjpaX8Vfo8O6lNrK0VF1U_aCsrgBM09PBscMsHBISPj2IW0pe86wAgBbiuo5U3u__ey184TU_hfqlxFFQ6nGnZeJW/s1600-h/706451_11242963.jpg&quot;&gt;&lt;img id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5114598987505449474&quot; style=&quot;FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand&quot; alt=&quot;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKCwnR6ztinQLfpeqBt5Ju-qRcHttHekM9mpDtfgX7bFPjrKt-ELPWjpaX8Vfo8O6lNrK0VF1U_aCsrgBM09PBscMsHBISPj2IW0pe86wAgBbiuo5U3u__ey184TU_hfqlxFFQ6nGnZeJW/s200/706451_11242963.jpg&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;A few years back a man came to me with a question that a professor had presented to him. The question was odd, but made some sense. The question was this; “which hurts more, the death of a loved one or the death of a loved one?” The students were supposed to think about the question and then present an answer to the class. I told the man asking me question that I would think about it and get back to him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My conclusion was that the professor was presenting a statement regarding the nature of pain. In other words which hurts worse, pain or pain. The question made the statement that when you reach the place of true pain it’s the same in every language. Pain is pain is pain. The way the question was worded was kinda stupid, but the truth behind it is relevant.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I find myself in this conundrum. I have two choices before me, both of which are going to cause pain. The decision in and of itself isn’t difficult, but the reality that no matter what my choice is I’m still going to hurt, looms in the back of my mind. Either way it’s time to cowboy up and act.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have you ever been here? How did you handle it? E-mail me some wise counsel. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://joshuajamesolsen.blogspot.com/2007/09/pain-is-pian-is-pain.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Joshua Olsen)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKCwnR6ztinQLfpeqBt5Ju-qRcHttHekM9mpDtfgX7bFPjrKt-ELPWjpaX8Vfo8O6lNrK0VF1U_aCsrgBM09PBscMsHBISPj2IW0pe86wAgBbiuo5U3u__ey184TU_hfqlxFFQ6nGnZeJW/s72-c/706451_11242963.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7564851225677543086.post-793775370264119303</guid><pubDate>Mon, 24 Sep 2007 08:33:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2007-09-24T01:40:45.682-07:00</atom:updated><title>Food for Thought</title><description>&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAgxTZc4A-4gyhN5I7bUUJjDbrDjBg7GBe0a57J3r4GC29nqy5VmG6ufisev8-KsTaX9v_grKO8-H9Zn8wmTIeKL28rZPrJbSBxd439RJekNL9UGMnbYn5L4s838y90JsA1r8BbuSEk41L/s1600-h/images.jpg&quot;&gt;&lt;img id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5113686448688970226&quot; style=&quot;FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand&quot; alt=&quot;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAgxTZc4A-4gyhN5I7bUUJjDbrDjBg7GBe0a57J3r4GC29nqy5VmG6ufisev8-KsTaX9v_grKO8-H9Zn8wmTIeKL28rZPrJbSBxd439RJekNL9UGMnbYn5L4s838y90JsA1r8BbuSEk41L/s200/images.jpg&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;From one of histories most &lt;span class=&quot;blsp-spelling-corrected&quot; id=&quot;SPELLING_ERROR_0&quot;&gt;notorious&lt;/span&gt; sinners...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&#39;And so he who would live a Christlike life is he who is perfectly and &lt;span class=&quot;blsp-spelling-corrected&quot; id=&quot;SPELLING_ERROR_1&quot;&gt;absolutely&lt;/span&gt; himself.... He may be a great poet, or a great man of science: or a young student at a University, ore one who watches sheep upon a moor: or a maker of dramas like Shakespeare, or a thinker about God, like Spinoza; or a child who plays in a garden, or a fisherman who throws his net into the sea. It does not matter what he is, as long as he realizes the perfection of the soul that is within him. All imitations in morals and in life is wrong.....There is no one type of man. There are many perfections as there are imperfect men. And while to the claims of charity a man may yield and yet be free, to the claims of conformity no man may yield and remain free at all.&#39;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;from a SOUL OF MAN UNDER SOCIALISM- OSCAR WILDE</description><link>http://joshuajamesolsen.blogspot.com/2007/09/food-for-thought.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Joshua Olsen)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAgxTZc4A-4gyhN5I7bUUJjDbrDjBg7GBe0a57J3r4GC29nqy5VmG6ufisev8-KsTaX9v_grKO8-H9Zn8wmTIeKL28rZPrJbSBxd439RJekNL9UGMnbYn5L4s838y90JsA1r8BbuSEk41L/s72-c/images.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7564851225677543086.post-2930241681853082554</guid><pubDate>Thu, 20 Sep 2007 21:24:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2007-09-20T14:33:48.637-07:00</atom:updated><title>Not the Smartest Peach on the Tree</title><description>&lt;span style=&quot;font-family:times new roman;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEge4_f3CuRgA-JBUoyulJLznIg_yiQmK8bcCDlVov-1oONbEH7lT5NaVtuCprPyhpFM7ZrP49XBxHX4CShNJ6xGm2-jbo2ZgJ7FoUiGQTJvt7ozk80AXepA6oLkuqyWU46WEhccSZWj3UWd/s1600-h/ahmadinejad0916.jpg&quot;&gt;&lt;img id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5112401244150151650&quot; style=&quot;FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand&quot; alt=&quot;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEge4_f3CuRgA-JBUoyulJLznIg_yiQmK8bcCDlVov-1oONbEH7lT5NaVtuCprPyhpFM7ZrP49XBxHX4CShNJ6xGm2-jbo2ZgJ7FoUiGQTJvt7ozk80AXepA6oLkuqyWU46WEhccSZWj3UWd/s200/ahmadinejad0916.jpg&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Some of you may have heard that good old Ahmadinejad (President of Iran the world largest contributor to terror) is coming to New York. That’s right; the man who may very well have helped fund the men who flew planes into the World Trade Center has a seat at the United Nations.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While in New York Mr. Ahmadinejad thought it would be nice to visit Ground Zero and lay a wreath in memory of all the people who died on 9/11. How sweet!!! Well the New York Port Authority and NYPD didn’t like the idea so much and neither did millions of Americans. But, apparently Ahmadinejad is perplexed as to why we are a little sensitive about ground zero. Not the smartest peach on the tree is he?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Read the rest of the story here: &lt;a href=&quot;http://www.drudgereport.com/flash6.htm&quot;&gt;http://www.drudgereport.com/flash6.htm&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/span&gt;</description><link>http://joshuajamesolsen.blogspot.com/2007/09/not-smartest-peach-on-tree.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Joshua Olsen)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEge4_f3CuRgA-JBUoyulJLznIg_yiQmK8bcCDlVov-1oONbEH7lT5NaVtuCprPyhpFM7ZrP49XBxHX4CShNJ6xGm2-jbo2ZgJ7FoUiGQTJvt7ozk80AXepA6oLkuqyWU46WEhccSZWj3UWd/s72-c/ahmadinejad0916.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7564851225677543086.post-5448885247477424074</guid><pubDate>Wed, 19 Sep 2007 21:25:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2007-09-19T14:26:42.964-07:00</atom:updated><title>ginkworld.net&#39; blog: a BIG reason</title><description>Thought you might enjoy some of this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;http://ginkworld.blogspot.com/2007/09/big-reason.html#links&quot;&gt;ginkworld.net&#39; blog: a BIG reason&lt;/a&gt;</description><link>http://joshuajamesolsen.blogspot.com/2007/09/ginkworldnet-blog-big-reason.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Joshua Olsen)</author><thr:total>1</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7564851225677543086.post-3148777213196100297</guid><pubDate>Wed, 19 Sep 2007 20:22:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2007-09-19T13:27:52.587-07:00</atom:updated><title>First Cloned Human Embryo..FAKE!</title><description>&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family:times new roman;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizSvQVWNQ2unbstPJROGzfwW9J9WL_Red1eLufUyjjNCOuOz8gHdnjJS6h3_SRwfAlzJyoYRiDvbKgkXskGIooZxInQmy5a2aXqPvvJVcmDKGhn2EI8ovKZguN13HQE3jHrdFqCbsZ-21Y/s1600-h/SGE.ARC90.180907161042.photo00.quicklook.default-177x245.jpg&quot;&gt;&lt;img id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5112014630211745954&quot; style=&quot;FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand&quot; alt=&quot;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizSvQVWNQ2unbstPJROGzfwW9J9WL_Red1eLufUyjjNCOuOz8gHdnjJS6h3_SRwfAlzJyoYRiDvbKgkXskGIooZxInQmy5a2aXqPvvJVcmDKGhn2EI8ovKZguN13HQE3jHrdFqCbsZ-21Y/s200/SGE.ARC90.180907161042.photo00.quicklook.default-177x245.jpg&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Well, once again the world of science proves itself to be less than perfect (go figure). Today the &quot;Drudge Report&quot; is reporting that the reports of the first cloned human embryo are FAKE!!! Check it out here &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;http://www.breitbart.com/article.php?id=070918162804.uvrmo7xl&amp;amp;show_article=1&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family:times new roman;&quot;&gt;http://www.breitbart.com/article.php?id=070918162804.uvrmo7xl&amp;amp;show_article=1&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://joshuajamesolsen.blogspot.com/2007/09/first-cloned-human-embryofake.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Joshua Olsen)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizSvQVWNQ2unbstPJROGzfwW9J9WL_Red1eLufUyjjNCOuOz8gHdnjJS6h3_SRwfAlzJyoYRiDvbKgkXskGIooZxInQmy5a2aXqPvvJVcmDKGhn2EI8ovKZguN13HQE3jHrdFqCbsZ-21Y/s72-c/SGE.ARC90.180907161042.photo00.quicklook.default-177x245.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7564851225677543086.post-3290898829372274385</guid><pubDate>Wed, 19 Sep 2007 19:28:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2007-09-19T12:34:30.933-07:00</atom:updated><title>Great New Blog</title><description>&lt;span style=&quot;font-family:times new roman;&quot;&gt;Hey All,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family:times new roman;&quot;&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family:times new roman;&quot;&gt;Well.....our little blog community is growing again. After my months of scilence I lost a lot of readers, but it looks like many of you are finding your way back to read my ignorence. Thank You :) &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family:times new roman;&quot;&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family:times new roman;&quot;&gt;Hey, I wanted to let ya&#39;ll know about a great new blog that I&#39;ve added to my roll called Hurting Pastors &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;http://blog.hurtingpastors.com/&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family:times new roman;&quot;&gt;http://blog.hurtingpastors.com/&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family:times new roman;&quot;&gt;. The bloggers name is Tony and he pastors a church in Texas. I&#39;m enjoying the blogs, thought some of you might find them enjoyable as well. Check it out, and subscribe you might just learn something. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family:times new roman;&quot;&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family:times new roman;&quot;&gt;Once again, thanks for supporting my blog and keep those e-mails coming!&lt;/span&gt;</description><link>http://joshuajamesolsen.blogspot.com/2007/09/great-new-blog.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Joshua Olsen)</author><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7564851225677543086.post-8746907709373278292</guid><pubDate>Wed, 19 Sep 2007 08:29:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2007-09-19T01:30:52.475-07:00</atom:updated><title>Unlearning</title><description>&lt;span style=&quot;font-family:times new roman;&quot;&gt;Recently I’ve come to the realization that I have a lot of things I need to unlearn regarding God.  That’s right unlearn.  My entire life I’ve been pumped full of Christian ideals, methodologies, rules, and old wives tales.  The sum of them created a weight so heavy that I finally rebelled and denied the faith.  After seven years of drunkenness, women, and worse, I have emerged a man who truly loves God, but absolutely hates religion.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Today I’m on staff at a great church in Seattle, WA (&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;http://www.lifebites.org/&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family:times new roman;&quot;&gt;www.lifebites.org&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family:times new roman;&quot;&gt;) and I’m beginning to unlearn some things.  In particular, I’m unlearning my definition of grace.  I’m beginning to understand that the Grace of God is not the byproduct of his irritation.  Grace isn’t when God’s had enough of me and still lets me live.  Grace is so much more than I ever imagined, and because of my new found understanding of grace, I’m beginning to realize how misguided I’ve been on so many fronts. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’m beginning to understand that Gods grace is unbearable.  You know what I mean.  It’s in those moments when you know what you deserve and yet it never comes.  It’s when you want to punish yourself because you can’t stand the thought of what you’ve done or who you’ve become, and God responds with gentleness and love. It’s that seeming last straw that never seems to break the back of Gods love.  It’s the understanding that I stand positionally righteous before God, covered in the blood of Christ. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bottom line, I drink too much, and smoke too many cigars and yet I know God delights in me.  Why?  Because for the first time in my life I have been shown grace from a man who has the authority to remove me from my career and ensure that I never work in this town again.  I’ve been given grace and unlike guilt, grace makes me want to change.  I’ve been yelled at, brought under church discipline, and threatened by the church and each time I repented out of necessity (See Matt 18).  But, for the first time in my life I have been shown grace, and just like Paul’s says in Romans 2, the kindness of God has led me to repentance.&lt;/span&gt;</description><link>http://joshuajamesolsen.blogspot.com/2007/09/unlearning.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Joshua Olsen)</author><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7564851225677543086.post-6335810712869319245</guid><pubDate>Fri, 07 Sep 2007 00:24:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2007-09-06T17:38:53.801-07:00</atom:updated><title>My New Plan</title><description>&lt;span style=&quot;font-family:times new roman;&quot;&gt;I’ve got an idea. How about if we grow a mega church and then go into every part of the city and shut down existing churches. We’ll just move in and take over. Obviously the ministries that are already serving the community are not ordained by God if our presence completely halts their effectiveness. Granted, we have millions of dollars backing us, which affords us the ability to trade real community ministry for programs that atract church hoppers and marginalized Christian, but that&#39;s irrelevant. What really matters is that we propagate our vision in every way possible. God will be on our side, so everyone else should either join us or just struggle until the fade into oblivion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People will ask us why we are starting a new campus right between three church plants that are struggling to get off the ground, but we’ll just tell them that God is on our side. If we run into a church that we believe will be competition we’ll just offer their pastor a staff position and then take over their building. It’s easy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, once we’ve grown our “church” to the point of international prominence, and we’re known as the fast growing church in the country, we’ll address the fact that the vast majority of our growth is a result of church hoppers, and that our conversion rate is embarrassing. To justify all this we’ll claim that Christians need to be ministered (which of course is true), and that if the existing church were ministering to the people they wouldn’t want switch churches. It’s fool proof.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What do you think? &lt;/span&gt;</description><link>http://joshuajamesolsen.blogspot.com/2007/09/my-new-plan.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Joshua Olsen)</author><thr:total>1</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7564851225677543086.post-5895625539126957901</guid><pubDate>Thu, 21 Jun 2007 20:57:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2007-06-21T13:58:02.387-07:00</atom:updated><title>Heaven Quakes</title><description>Check this out guys and gals, it brought me to tears.  Folks this is Christ, this is church, this is real!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;http://maxgrace.wordpress.com/2007/06/08/heavenquake/&quot;&gt;http://maxgrace.wordpress.com/2007/06/08/heavenquake/&lt;/a&gt;</description><link>http://joshuajamesolsen.blogspot.com/2007/06/heaven-quakes.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Joshua Olsen)</author><thr:total>4</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7564851225677543086.post-5146761402799204917</guid><pubDate>Sun, 10 Jun 2007 22:03:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2007-06-10T15:04:53.280-07:00</atom:updated><title>Emerging Past the Emerging</title><description>&lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;What would happen if a church were willing to give up its individual identity, building, programs and vocational staff, and simply lived within the communities as the Body?&lt;span style=&quot;&quot;&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;They would still gather together in homes or in rented location from time to time, but the actual body life took place in the market place by running into one another in a business or walking on the street.&lt;span style=&quot;&quot;&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Friendships were made with business owners, neighbors, city officials and civic groups.&lt;span style=&quot;&quot;&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Believers intentionally developing community in their neighborhoods by identifying locations throughout the neighborhood that they support and frequent in their day-to-day lives.&lt;span style=&quot;&quot;&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;There is no agenda other than to love people and create a livable community within their neighborhood that leads to shared experiences with those who live there.&lt;span style=&quot;&quot;&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;These relationships soon providing opportunities to share the gospel.&lt;span style=&quot;&quot;&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The Body, being the Body and enveloping anyone who had a heart for the community at large.&lt;span style=&quot;&quot;&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Evangelism through community development.&lt;span style=&quot;&quot;&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Truly organic, almost totally undefined, holistic, life as the Body of Christ as lived out IN the community.&lt;span style=&quot;&quot;&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;In short, the neighborhood becomes the church building, our neighbors are the congregation, and the believers become the BODY.&lt;span style=&quot;&quot;&gt;   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;     &lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--&gt;&lt;!--[endif]--&gt; I’ve heard the saying, “We need to have a church, without walls,” but I’ve never seen anyone do it until recently.&lt;span style=&quot;&quot;&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I’ve fallen in love with a little community of faith in Downtown Tacoma, WA.&lt;span style=&quot;&quot;&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;This little community doesn’t really define themselves other than calling their gathering “Zoë.”&lt;span style=&quot;&quot;&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Their model for ministry being in large part what I’ve just described above.&lt;span style=&quot;&quot;&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Zoë is truly a movement that is emerging past the “emerging church movement.”&lt;span style=&quot;&quot;&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;As I met with the leadership of Zoë this past week I realized that they held a couple of the missing pieces I had been looking for.&lt;span style=&quot;&quot;&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;God had given me a vision for Belltown, but I was missing a couple of key components.&lt;span style=&quot;&quot;&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Paul Sparks, Mike Ott, and Josh Ott of Zoë helped me see what those pieces were.&lt;span style=&quot;&quot;&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Although Zoë is designed specifically for Tacoma, and would never attempt to recreate it in Belltown, I’ve seen the light in regards to what “Tapestry” has been called to be.&lt;span style=&quot;&quot;&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;&quot;&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;&quot;&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;     &lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--&gt;&lt;!--[endif]--&gt; For several years now I have been struggling to silence a voice in my heart that has been telling me that there is something more for the church than what I have seen.&lt;span style=&quot;&quot;&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I’ve read the books, taught the classes, and even spoken at workshops on the emergent movement in the church and yet I still had a sense of discontent.&lt;span style=&quot;&quot;&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The emergent movement is profitable and I respect and admire the men and women who are leading it into the coming years, but I’ve been looking for something different, something that would be “real” by my standards.&lt;span style=&quot;&quot;&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I’ve been searching for more than a reorganized model of church and my spirit tells me I’ve found it.&lt;span style=&quot;&quot;&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;     &lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--&gt;&lt;!--[endif]--&gt; I’ll blog more this afternoon and in the days to come, but I’m excited to finally feel as if God as shown me His will, for His Church, that He has given me to shepherd.&lt;span style=&quot;&quot;&gt;         &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--&gt; &lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;&quot;&gt;         &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;</description><link>http://joshuajamesolsen.blogspot.com/2007/06/emerging-past-emerging.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Joshua Olsen)</author><thr:total>2</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7564851225677543086.post-3452247801009452</guid><pubDate>Fri, 08 Jun 2007 04:37:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2007-06-07T21:42:18.270-07:00</atom:updated><title>Funny Stuff !!!   Semi-Truck Take Man</title><description>&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpMbSgDAmK8J-pJv6Hm3xP5XKMddjGA5uXP1nu9VB3WPazV5VA-HeP0XEuTD_5tA4p61qbp1Z1E43-oVd4fDMlBABYD9nu33Fb5fyoLBReFKmNvpfSJols84dNRoAQwsFSQoiVc7XofdaO/s1600-h/bilde.jpg&quot;&gt;&lt;img id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5073548721130887506&quot; style=&quot;FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand&quot; alt=&quot;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpMbSgDAmK8J-pJv6Hm3xP5XKMddjGA5uXP1nu9VB3WPazV5VA-HeP0XEuTD_5tA4p61qbp1Z1E43-oVd4fDMlBABYD9nu33Fb5fyoLBReFKmNvpfSJols84dNRoAQwsFSQoiVc7XofdaO/s200/bilde.jpg&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This is some funny stuff.......&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Whole story here:  &lt;a href=&quot;http://www.southbendtribune.com/apps/pbcs.dll/article?AID=/20070607/News01/706070318&quot;&gt;http://www.southbendtribune.com/apps/pbcs.dll/article?AID=/20070607/News01/706070318&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;A 21-year-old man was taken on a wild ride Wednesday afternoon when the wheelchair he was in became attached to the grille of a semi-truck and was taken four miles down a highway at about 50 mph.The man, whose name police did not release, was not injured. The driver was unaware he was pushing the man, according to a news release from the Michigan State Police.Authorities began receiving calls about 4 p.m. that the semi was traveling westbound on Red Arrow Highway, just outside of Paw Paw, with the wheelchair.&lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://joshuajamesolsen.blogspot.com/2007/06/funny-stuff-semi-truck-take-man.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Joshua Olsen)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpMbSgDAmK8J-pJv6Hm3xP5XKMddjGA5uXP1nu9VB3WPazV5VA-HeP0XEuTD_5tA4p61qbp1Z1E43-oVd4fDMlBABYD9nu33Fb5fyoLBReFKmNvpfSJols84dNRoAQwsFSQoiVc7XofdaO/s72-c/bilde.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>1</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7564851225677543086.post-5876399189394392868</guid><pubDate>Tue, 22 May 2007 13:10:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2007-05-22T06:20:07.209-07:00</atom:updated><title>Homesick</title><description>&lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;&quot;&gt;&lt;a onblur=&quot;try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}&quot; href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTFjz_4miDWwPwYajmb2ERM00nO9VvzIgWaoOilh1KGr8Sh4QnnT37ZJ-hZ5ybhFFu8CdumHtvw2Cpkg8DpDh7VgS3tEK9GiERwW33GYpEut6WzXCmGyMxSCSYmrPzGK-kTzyqxNZmKokK/s1600-h/grantspass.jpg&quot;&gt;&lt;img style=&quot;margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTFjz_4miDWwPwYajmb2ERM00nO9VvzIgWaoOilh1KGr8Sh4QnnT37ZJ-hZ5ybhFFu8CdumHtvw2Cpkg8DpDh7VgS3tEK9GiERwW33GYpEut6WzXCmGyMxSCSYmrPzGK-kTzyqxNZmKokK/s200/grantspass.jpg&quot; alt=&quot;&quot; id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5067374081857215842&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;From time to time I get really homesick. This past few weeks has been one of those times. I’m so homesick I can barely function. You see I grew up in small town Southern Oregon, where men are men, women are women, and no one has had surgery to change that. Kids play in the street, keys are left in the ignition, and life moves at a slower pace. It’s my preferred mode of doing life.&lt;span style=&quot;font-family:Arial;&quot;&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;&quot; face=&quot;times new roman&quot;&gt;A couple of times a year I get so homesick I have to make a trip home. I need the air in my lungs and the sound of the river in my ears. This weekend my wife and I are going home and I’m truly excited! It’s like my aunt said to me last night when I called to make arrangements to stay with her, she said, “Joshua, you can take the boy out of the country, but you can’t take the country out of the boy.” She’s absolutely right. But, as I’ve been thinking about home I’m reminded of how temporary this life is. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;&quot; face=&quot;times new roman&quot;&gt;Over the years, as I’ve watched several of my friends die, I’ve begun to realize that in reality I have no home on this planet. If I had my choice, I’d pack up my family and move back to my hometown (and trust me, I’m seriously considering it), but even then I wouldn’t truly be home. Home is where Christ is and I won’t ever be able to find true peace until I arrive in heaven. I wish I could long of heaven like I long for my hometown. I don’t because I’ve never been there. I have no roots in heaven; I have no memories of moon pies, sweet tea, or shooting out streetlights. There are no familiar sights or sounds.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot; style=&quot;&quot; face=&quot;times new roman&quot;&gt; They say home is where the heart is, and that worries me a bit.  Why?  Because my heart has yet to long for heaven. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;</description><link>http://joshuajamesolsen.blogspot.com/2007/05/homesick.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Joshua Olsen)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTFjz_4miDWwPwYajmb2ERM00nO9VvzIgWaoOilh1KGr8Sh4QnnT37ZJ-hZ5ybhFFu8CdumHtvw2Cpkg8DpDh7VgS3tEK9GiERwW33GYpEut6WzXCmGyMxSCSYmrPzGK-kTzyqxNZmKokK/s72-c/grantspass.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>2</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7564851225677543086.post-2906284114789568224</guid><pubDate>Tue, 15 May 2007 04:15:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2007-05-14T21:21:53.564-07:00</atom:updated><title>A Few To Many Drinks...</title><description>I’ve begun to understand something profound. Maybe it won’t hit you in the same way its hit me, but I think it’s worth a little thought. Satan is a tricky little weasel and I’ve bought one of his biggest lies. The lie is that being non-judgmental equals participation.  The conduit for this lie is Christian freedoms. Let me explain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Little by little I’ve been noticing that my generation of believers is beginning to look a lot like the culture. At first I made the mistake of calling this cultural relevance and even propagated it to a certain extent. The assumption was that in order to reach a particular culture it was imperative to immerse oneself in that culture. When the people who function within that cultural context see you are like one of them, then you will have the trust necessary to deliver the message of Christ. The problem is, Satan is smarter than we are.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As we have immersed ourselves in the culture we have failed to realize the subtle deceptions of the evil one. In an attempt to shed the traditional rules of legalistic religion and become more relevant to the culture, we have become almost as deceived as the culture itself. Granted, in most cases we haven’t sunk to the darkest pits of sinful behavior, but we have most defiantly sunk to the depths of un-holy behavior and ideals. We don’t want to judge an unbelieving world and hold them to our Christian standards so we go the opposite direction and adopt their unholy standard, and we call it “relevant” ministry. In reality it’s not relevant at all, it’s a bastardized gospel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The gospel of Jesus is Christ is nothing if not counter cultural. Christ’s message of love, and salvation although delivered in the context of culture was never inclusive of culture. Christ hung out with some pretty seedy characters, and yet not once do I see him behaving, speaking, or participating in the questionable activities of those characters.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unlike many of us, Christ never had to put a disclaimer on his message. He never had to say, “I know I’ve had a few to many drinks, but my father really does love you.”</description><link>http://joshuajamesolsen.blogspot.com/2007/05/few-to-many-drinks.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Joshua Olsen)</author><thr:total>4</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7564851225677543086.post-2121152741411002108</guid><pubDate>Thu, 03 May 2007 22:32:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2007-05-03T15:44:12.691-07:00</atom:updated><title>A New Discussion</title><description>&lt;p style=&quot;font-family: times new roman;&quot; class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;I’ve been around church planting my entire life.&lt;span style=&quot;&quot;&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;My grandfather was a church planter, my dad is a church planter, my uncle trains church planters, and I’m planting now for the second time.&lt;span style=&quot;&quot;&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The men in my family are directly responsible for planting literally hundreds of churches worldwide, and I’ve personally watched my father plant numerous churches during my lifetime, all of which are still going strong, and most of which have planted their own churches. Church planting is the only thing I really know how to do.&lt;span style=&quot;&quot;&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I’ve been bottle-fed church planting since infancy, and it’s become my passion.&lt;/p&gt;     &lt;p style=&quot;font-family: times new roman;&quot; class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--&gt;&lt;!--[endif]--&gt; Church planters are an interesting breed of men, and pioneer church planters (guys who plant a church with no money, or resources) are plain old disturbed.&lt;span style=&quot;&quot;&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;It’s one thing to take a chunk of money and open a new church in a neighborhood; it’s another thing to “John Wayne” your way into a community and organically begin a new ministry.&lt;span style=&quot;&quot;&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Although every planter would love to have funds, often times it’s not possible.&lt;span style=&quot;&quot;&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Regardless, every church planter is faced with individual difficulties that although different in each community, must be answered in every context.&lt;/p&gt;     &lt;p style=&quot;font-family: times new roman;&quot; class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--&gt;&lt;!--[endif]--&gt; In my opinion, the most widely discussed topic amongst church planters (aside form monetary issues) is church structure.&lt;span style=&quot;&quot;&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;In others words the way in which they have, or plan to “do” church.&lt;span style=&quot;&quot;&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Some guys are congregational, some elder lead, some decentralized, some house church and the list goes on and on.&lt;span style=&quot;&quot;&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;To make things more difficult, we categorize things even further.&lt;span style=&quot;&quot;&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Some guys are denominational, some associational, some are in networks, some are autonomous, some call themselves emergent, some deny any classification (still very much a category), and some just stare at the wall.&lt;span style=&quot;&quot;&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;However you look at it, you’re going to fit in someone’s pigeonhole.&lt;span style=&quot;&quot;&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;     &lt;p style=&quot;font-family: times new roman;&quot; class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--&gt;&lt;!--[endif]--&gt; &lt;span style=&quot;&quot;&gt;&lt;/span&gt;After all my years of living with and around church planters the conversation is the same.  I wonder if this conversation pleases God?  I’m spending a lot of time praying about this matter, because it seems to be so important to so many people.&lt;span style=&quot;&quot;&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;I guess I’m looking for God heart on issue.&lt;span style=&quot;&quot;&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Does God care how we assemble if our hearts are turned towards him?&lt;span style=&quot;&quot;&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Does he care if we’re denominationalized, or autonomous?&lt;span style=&quot;&quot;&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;What are the things God really cares about?&lt;span style=&quot;&quot;&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;What does God want to hear being discussed when leaders meet, and is time in discussion as valuable as time in prayer?&lt;span style=&quot;&quot;&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;     &lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--&gt; &lt;span style=&quot;font-family: times new roman;&quot;&gt;I love my peers, and I prayer for each of them by name, regularly.  I want to see them succeed in reaching the lost for Christ, encouraging and educating the found, and impacting the culture they minister in.  But, I also want to leave the secondary stuff behind and begin to dwell in the unity of our call.  All of us have successes and failures.  We all have stories of transformation.  We have all had our backsides kicked and had to learn to lean on Christ to recover.  There is so much wisdom and experience in a room when pastors gather, why do feel the need to discuss ideals?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: times new roman;&quot;&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class=&quot;MsoNormal&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: times new roman;&quot;&gt;Maybe I&#39;m missing somehing, but I&#39;m ready for a new discussion.                               &lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;</description><link>http://joshuajamesolsen.blogspot.com/2007/05/new-discussion.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Joshua Olsen)</author><thr:total>1</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7564851225677543086.post-4263555141112734389</guid><pubDate>Wed, 02 May 2007 04:45:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2007-05-01T21:49:30.430-07:00</atom:updated><title>The New Bible</title><description>&lt;span style=&quot;font-family:times new roman;&quot;&gt;Loved ones, things are a change&#39;n.  Are we ready?    &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family:times new roman;&quot;&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family:times new roman;&quot;&gt;California Hotels Go Green With Low-Flow Toilets, Solar Lights&lt;br /&gt;By Ari Levy and Carole Zimmer&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family:times new roman;&quot;&gt;April 27 (Bloomberg) -- Visitors to the Gaia Napa Valley Hotel and Spa won&#39;t find the Gideon Bible in the nightstand drawer. Instead, on the bureau will be a copy of ``An Inconvenient Truth,&#39;&#39; former Vice President Al Gore&#39;s book about global warming. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family:times new roman;&quot;&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family:times new roman;&quot;&gt;Read the rest of the story here.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;http://www.bloomberg.com/apps/news?pid=20670001&amp;refer=us&amp;amp;sid=afIESX3LdgnQ&quot;&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family:times new roman;&quot;&gt;http://www.bloomberg.com/apps/news?pid=20670001&amp;refer=us&amp;amp;sid=afIESX3LdgnQ&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;</description><link>http://joshuajamesolsen.blogspot.com/2007/05/new-bible.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Joshua Olsen)</author><thr:total>0</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7564851225677543086.post-6170315842621534975</guid><pubDate>Fri, 27 Apr 2007 16:09:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2007-04-27T09:23:05.059-07:00</atom:updated><title>Slavery In America</title><description>&lt;span style=&quot;font-family:times new roman;&quot;&gt;Did you know that there are around 27 million people in slavery today?  Many of those people are right here in the united states.  Human &lt;span class=&quot;blsp-spelling-corrected&quot; id=&quot;SPELLING_ERROR_0&quot;&gt;trafficking&lt;/span&gt; is something that has been heavy on my heart for quite some time now, and I believe it is something heavy on the heart of our saviour.  When we think of human slavery, it&#39;s easy to dismiss it as a problem only in the third world, but some experts are saying there could be as many as 2 Million people in slavery in the united states.  Most of these people are young women who are forced into the sex trade and 50% are children.  My heart breaks  over this issue, and I hope you&#39;ll take a moment to read the &lt;span class=&quot;blsp-spelling-corrected&quot; id=&quot;SPELLING_ERROR_1&quot;&gt;article&lt;/span&gt; and take a look at the video I&#39;ve attached.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family:times new roman;&quot;&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family:times new roman;&quot;&gt;I, along with Tapestry (the church I pastor), will be getting &lt;span class=&quot;blsp-spelling-corrected&quot; id=&quot;SPELLING_ERROR_2&quot;&gt;heavily&lt;/span&gt; involved in this matter and I would encourage you to pray about what you can do.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family:Times New Roman;&quot;&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Short &lt;span class=&quot;blsp-spelling-corrected&quot; id=&quot;SPELLING_ERROR_3&quot;&gt;Documentary&lt;/span&gt;:  &lt;a href=&quot;http://www.notforsalecampaign.org/Trailer01.aspx&quot;&gt;http://www.notforsalecampaign.org/Trailer01.aspx&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family:Times New Roman;&quot;&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Trailer (Not for sale Campaign):  &lt;a href=&quot;http://www.notforsalecampaign.org/Trailer.aspx&quot;&gt;http://www.notforsalecampaign.org/Trailer.aspx&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;CHILDREN FOR SALE ON &lt;span class=&quot;blsp-spelling-error&quot; id=&quot;SPELLING_ERROR_4&quot;&gt;CRAIGSLIST&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Katherine &lt;span class=&quot;blsp-spelling-error&quot; id=&quot;SPELLING_ERROR_5&quot;&gt;Chon&lt;/span&gt; Executive Director &amp;amp; Co-Founder Polaris Project&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;http://www.notforsalecampaign.org/TheUnderground-CraigsList.aspx&quot;&gt;http://www.notforsalecampaign.org/TheUnderground-CraigsList.aspx&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I&#39;m sure most of us are familiar with &lt;span class=&quot;blsp-spelling-error&quot; id=&quot;SPELLING_ERROR_6&quot;&gt;Craigslist&lt;/span&gt;, an online Web community where people post job opportunities, items for sale, and find activity partners. Over the past years, &lt;span class=&quot;blsp-spelling-error&quot; id=&quot;SPELLING_ERROR_7&quot;&gt;Craigslist&lt;/span&gt; has grown by leaps and bounds and now has Web sites representing over 300 U.S. cities. Many of us have used &lt;span class=&quot;blsp-spelling-error&quot; id=&quot;SPELLING_ERROR_8&quot;&gt;Craigslist&lt;/span&gt; to find a garage sale or buy a used couch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, despite its millions of users and various social benefits, there&#39;s a dark side of &lt;span class=&quot;blsp-spelling-error&quot; id=&quot;SPELLING_ERROR_9&quot;&gt;Craigslist&lt;/span&gt; that most users don&#39;t see. In the &quot;Erotic&quot; section, human traffickers have found &lt;span class=&quot;blsp-spelling-error&quot; id=&quot;SPELLING_ERROR_10&quot;&gt;Craigslist&lt;/span&gt; to be one of the most efficient, effective (and free) ways to post children and women for sale.&lt;br /&gt;With a bit of research, one can realize just how much of a problem this has become. In one recent case, two Chicago women were charged for selling girls as young as 14 years old on &lt;span class=&quot;blsp-spelling-error&quot; id=&quot;SPELLING_ERROR_11&quot;&gt;Craigslist&lt;/span&gt;. The girls were forced to have sex with 10-12 men per day, and the traffickers made tens of thousands of dollars. A Boston man and his niece were charged with plotting a child trafficking operation with teenagers as young as 13 by selling them on &lt;span class=&quot;blsp-spelling-error&quot; id=&quot;SPELLING_ERROR_12&quot;&gt;Craigslist&lt;/span&gt; to predators from Massachusetts to New York. These cases are just the tip of the iceberg. In fact, law enforcement efforts to fight trafficking nationwide are consistently reporting a spike in online &lt;span class=&quot;blsp-spelling-error&quot; id=&quot;SPELLING_ERROR_13&quot;&gt;Craigslist&lt;/span&gt; ads, and how sex trafficking has &quot;moved online&quot; lately.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In Washington, DC, we see an average of 500 of these such &lt;span class=&quot;blsp-spelling-error&quot; id=&quot;SPELLING_ERROR_14&quot;&gt;Craigslist&lt;/span&gt; ads each new day. Yet, it is important to realize that a significant percentage of these ads on &lt;span class=&quot;blsp-spelling-error&quot; id=&quot;SPELLING_ERROR_15&quot;&gt;Craigslist&lt;/span&gt; do not advertise solely &quot;legal escort services&quot; as &lt;span class=&quot;blsp-spelling-error&quot; id=&quot;SPELLING_ERROR_16&quot;&gt;Craigslist&lt;/span&gt; may like to believe. Instead, a considerable percentage of the ads are a thinly veiled guise for one of the many faces of human trafficking that exists here in the United States. Although &lt;span class=&quot;blsp-spelling-error&quot; id=&quot;SPELLING_ERROR_17&quot;&gt;Craigslist&lt;/span&gt; may convince itself that it has created a beneficial online venue for advertising legal escorts, in effect, what it has done is create a fertile ground for traffickers to further their trade in human misery.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Many of the victims of human trafficking that Polaris Project has served have had their pictures posted on &lt;span class=&quot;blsp-spelling-error&quot; id=&quot;SPELLING_ERROR_18&quot;&gt;Craigslist&lt;/span&gt;. Through serving them, we&#39;ve learned how the pictures on &lt;span class=&quot;blsp-spelling-error&quot; id=&quot;SPELLING_ERROR_19&quot;&gt;Craigslist&lt;/span&gt; hide the pain behind the smile. Maybe &lt;span class=&quot;blsp-spelling-error&quot; id=&quot;SPELLING_ERROR_20&quot;&gt;Craigslist&lt;/span&gt; should ask itself if the marginal benefits of this form of free advertising for the sex trade are worth the far larger human costs.</description><link>http://joshuajamesolsen.blogspot.com/2007/04/slavery-in-america.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Joshua Olsen)</author><thr:total>1</thr:total></item><item><guid isPermaLink="false">tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7564851225677543086.post-2728145379155820426</guid><pubDate>Wed, 25 Apr 2007 18:30:00 +0000</pubDate><atom:updated>2007-04-25T11:32:23.956-07:00</atom:updated><title></title><description>&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family:times new roman;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtaIUospXi2oKUJYFOAoH9wxltIH2jhJb5VfhjzlItH2A8Cac8pWm0EOIrU7vfBxU-mL7IFDsxSawEUaSczM-Orl_V5O_Tl1Ax3QL7Kl_Vr_6S0Cfc0lJfuMhyphenhyphenkhiML6qoraKdb9kgW2Wd/s1600-h/art_review-1.jpg&quot;&gt;&lt;img id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5057435369957845618&quot; style=&quot;FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand&quot; alt=&quot;&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtaIUospXi2oKUJYFOAoH9wxltIH2jhJb5VfhjzlItH2A8Cac8pWm0EOIrU7vfBxU-mL7IFDsxSawEUaSczM-Orl_V5O_Tl1Ax3QL7Kl_Vr_6S0Cfc0lJfuMhyphenhyphenkhiML6qoraKdb9kgW2Wd/s200/art_review-1.jpg&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Today I write all of you from the airport somewhere near Saint Paul, Minn. It’s been a crazy week. I got home from a three day engagement Saturday night and had just enough time to kiss my wife, get in a fight with her, make up, get some sleep and stop by the office. I flew out early this morning (Monday). I’m on my way to meet with a group of church planters from around the country who are affiliated with the Conservative Baptist Association. We’re meeting at a conference in Orlando. Tough life I know. You may be wondering why I would have anything to do with an association/denomination of churches, since I generally want nothing to do with them, but this situation is a little different.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My dad is the director of church planting for the Rocky Mountain Conservative Baptist Association, based out of Denver Colorado. Although my dad and I are separated by at least one cultural generation, we have some similar views on the role of the church, as well as, similar views on what we believe the direction of the church needs to be in the years to come. My dad has asked me to come to this conference to be a part of a conversation with his church planters about new forms of church planting. I must admit, I’m excited to spend some time around other men who share my passion. Most of these guys have some pretty old school views of the church and I’m there to provide a little bit of shock value.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, sometimes I feel like an attraction at a circus freak show. You know the bearded lady, the bendable man, the giant, the dwarf, and the progressive church planter. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not a sought after speaker like some of my peers, I only get 8 or 10 opportunities each year. But, when I get asked to speaking engagements I’m expected to shock people. I’m afraid my ideals have created a bit of a monster.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family:times new roman;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I’m asking the question; is there value in “shock value?”&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;</description><link>http://joshuajamesolsen.blogspot.com/2007/04/today-i-write-all-of-you-from-airport.html</link><author>noreply@blogger.com (Joshua Olsen)</author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtaIUospXi2oKUJYFOAoH9wxltIH2jhJb5VfhjzlItH2A8Cac8pWm0EOIrU7vfBxU-mL7IFDsxSawEUaSczM-Orl_V5O_Tl1Ax3QL7Kl_Vr_6S0Cfc0lJfuMhyphenhyphenkhiML6qoraKdb9kgW2Wd/s72-c/art_review-1.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>2</thr:total></item></channel></rss>