<?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-33501944</id><updated>2011-04-21T10:57:34.648-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Kentexan Connection</title><subtitle type='html'>I'll write and rhyme my way into your heart.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kentexan.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33501944/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kentexan.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>wes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11747654598071060681</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7286/2801/1600/RCwes.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>10</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33501944.post-4640679546201532899</id><published>2007-03-06T21:57:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-03-06T22:32:30.787-08:00</updated><title type='text'>These days</title><content type='html'>In reviewing my daily blog roll, I am saddened to see that many of us are losing momentum. Of course the always-faithful &lt;a href="http://farmstrong.blogspot.com/"&gt;FARMstrong&lt;/a&gt; is still humming along, and &lt;a href="http://www.laugharn.info/"&gt;Dan&lt;/a&gt; perpetually provide us with fresh and exciting content (see the current Mirrored by Battles video post). But it appears my siblings are slacking. I know, i know, who am I to question my siblings? My blog-o-meter has not been off the charts in quite a while. But that's not to say my recent time has not been uneventful. I'm in the rhythm of Asbury, of which is quite soothing to take part. These past winter days have been filled with insightful readings, engaging classrooms, and horrible food; At worst a smelly casserole, and at best a fresh cup of coffee.&lt;br /&gt;    I had a conversation the other day with my &lt;a href="http://coreymason.blogspot.com/"&gt;sister and Corey&lt;/a&gt;, over the phone (one-at-a-time, no conference calls here) and I realized how utterly content I am. Of course, I have the occasional complaint and every now and then it hits me that I live in WILMORE, but the honest truth is, at the end of the day, I love to rest my tired mind in my well-lived dorm room, on this intoxicating campus. I swear Asbury gives off fumes or something, and it forces you to be inspired. The truth is that God is present, in the dorm room and in the class room. I am so thankful for my education. It is both eternally true and eternally spiritual. I am so thankful to do the very "unordinary" work of reading a book and talking over its theory, to quote my Professor.&lt;br /&gt;    The Lord has done a graceful work in Mike and me. We must submit to him daily, and give praise for he deserves our adoration. We were in the desert, both surrounded and alone. We had everything at our fingertips but we could feel nothing. We called out to God and he heard our cries. Thanks be to God for Asbury. Thanks be to God for grace.&lt;br /&gt;I love everyone who reads this, even though now it's probably just my mom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wes&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33501944-4640679546201532899?l=kentexan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kentexan.blogspot.com/feeds/4640679546201532899/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33501944&amp;postID=4640679546201532899' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33501944/posts/default/4640679546201532899'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33501944/posts/default/4640679546201532899'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kentexan.blogspot.com/2007/03/these-days.html' title='These days'/><author><name>wes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11747654598071060681</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7286/2801/1600/RCwes.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33501944.post-116691075425535760</id><published>2006-12-23T13:51:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-12-23T13:52:34.266-08:00</updated><title type='text'>poem</title><content type='html'>What will I become?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i am.&lt;br /&gt;now&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i am going to be.&lt;br /&gt;soon&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;what will i become? be it something i see today, or something I've thought?&lt;br /&gt;i couldn't worry over it any more than i do.&lt;br /&gt;so...&lt;br /&gt;i tell myself, relax and live.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will make a decision today, that will affect tommorow, in turn...&lt;br /&gt;until tommorow is here, and a new tommorow is already on the horizon.&lt;br /&gt;but tommorow is not the goal. it can't be.&lt;br /&gt;i'll focus on the means not the end.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;in most ways my life has been made complete,&lt;br /&gt;it is not finished,&lt;br /&gt;it is in the process,&lt;br /&gt;the infinite process,&lt;br /&gt;without beginning or end.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my start and finish has been replaced. infinance now abounds, while my flesh is made whole&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33501944-116691075425535760?l=kentexan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kentexan.blogspot.com/feeds/116691075425535760/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33501944&amp;postID=116691075425535760' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33501944/posts/default/116691075425535760'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33501944/posts/default/116691075425535760'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kentexan.blogspot.com/2006/12/poem.html' title='poem'/><author><name>wes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11747654598071060681</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7286/2801/1600/RCwes.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33501944.post-116285011756910775</id><published>2006-11-06T13:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-06T13:55:17.580-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A general warning</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;I push my glasses to my face,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;peering back over my shoulder &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;I saw the stuff that man built.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Lands of concrete and glass;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;comfortable innovations abundant.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;All the while I read and watched &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;as the twentieth century came to a close&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;somehow being born in it, but not of it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;But through all the visible comfort&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;there was still HURT.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;Where is our answer America?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;For what do we strive?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;"JESUS saves!" some reply&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;But I wisper to myself, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;"Faith is a dying concept, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;cellphones leave us far too satisfied."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33501944-116285011756910775?l=kentexan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kentexan.blogspot.com/feeds/116285011756910775/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33501944&amp;postID=116285011756910775' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33501944/posts/default/116285011756910775'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33501944/posts/default/116285011756910775'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kentexan.blogspot.com/2006/11/general-warning.html' title='A general warning'/><author><name>wes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11747654598071060681</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7286/2801/1600/RCwes.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33501944.post-116189258306218933</id><published>2006-10-26T12:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-26T13:09:09.936-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My First Fall</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7286/2801/1600/DSC_0069.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7286/2801/400/DSC_0069.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;"  &gt;Fall. Nature's sewing season.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;"  &gt;She and the wind spin leaves into thread,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;"  &gt;knitting colorful foliage blankets&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;"  &gt;draped o'er hills,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;"  &gt;changing death to beauty.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;"  &gt;ironic beautification.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;"  &gt;Spring's beauty anticipated,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;"  &gt;while Fall's suprises my untrained eyes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;"  &gt;Look to the trees and see branches nude.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;"  &gt;Oranges, reds, yellows come down,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:times new roman;font-size:130%;"  &gt;when trees subdued.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;photo: Mike Gilger&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33501944-116189258306218933?l=kentexan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kentexan.blogspot.com/feeds/116189258306218933/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33501944&amp;postID=116189258306218933' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33501944/posts/default/116189258306218933'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33501944/posts/default/116189258306218933'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kentexan.blogspot.com/2006/10/my-first-fall.html' title='My First Fall'/><author><name>wes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11747654598071060681</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7286/2801/1600/RCwes.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33501944.post-116156884137369027</id><published>2006-10-22T18:16:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-22T19:00:41.376-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Vacation Appreciation</title><content type='html'>So my dad and I had one of our greatest weekends together this past fall break. I got off friday and thursday so we headed up the road to Ohio. Being in Kentucky opens us up to so many more vacation options. The ROCK and ROLL hall of fame was our first stop in Clevland, OH. It was so cool to see John Lennon's lyrics written out and all of the famous people's clothing was pretty neat as well. Next up was the circus. Ringling brothers and Barnum and Bailey provided great entertainment (for us as well as the 30,000 5 year olds), I told dad how interesting it was to view live entertainment happening right in front of you. We look at &lt;a href="http://farmstrong.blogspot.com"&gt;screens&lt;/a&gt; so much now, its just cool to see 7 (YES 7!) motorcycles in a "Globe of Death", riding around in circles together. Finally we headed off to Cedar Point, the reigning "Roller Coaster Capitol of the World". And yes it was incredible. Top Thrill Dragster was my favorite. 0 - 120 mph in 3.8 secs, straight up 420ft in the air and then you come back down at 120 again. Truly amazing. I love the modern age! What a crazy period in time when we can pay to do &lt;a href="http://www.hawaii.rr.com/leisure/reviews/coastercrazy/images/2003/12/2003-12_cprccotworld020.jpg"&gt;this&lt;/a&gt; . &lt;br /&gt;While laying in our hotel beds the night before Cedar Point, my dad and I had one of our best conversations ever. We talked for so long about how great of a place I am at right now and how great Asbury is for me. He asked about my last entry. He put it well when he said "I was still working out my salvation on this blog thing". It's too hard to come on here and not be honest. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel like that day, where i went down to pray at the alter, was about me realizing where I am at. This is the most uncynical thing I have ever been apart of, this Asbury thing. This school is so nice, heartfelt, and honest that when sacasm pops up anywhere, it sticks out, a lot. I don't know if many of the kids in the youthgroup know this, but our youthgroup is a very sarcastic bunch. Our only form of humor is sarcasm. (making fun)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I got here, I stuck out, badly. It wasn't even verbal sarcasm, or jokes, it was my thoughts. Mean and selfish thoughts. I wasn't connecting with people, because few wanted to become friends in the way like I was used to. I realized how tired I was of being this way. Things that were funny to me back home or in the youthgroup, just stoped being funny. They were just dumb, and mean. I am so glad to be in this place. It's stretching me and shaping my view of life so strongly. I am so glad to be making friends with girls who have pictures of dolphins on their walls. Yes I met a girl who actually had 40 pictures of dolphins all over her walls! She doesn't think it's weird at all, its just what she loves. Yes her room is halarious, but she loves Jesus with her whole heart. She's not cool, thats for sure, but she does know that Jesus loves her and she loves him. She is one of the coolest people i've met here and I am so thankful to be her friend. She is showing me so much about life. &lt;br /&gt;Death to cool.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;love Wes&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33501944-116156884137369027?l=kentexan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kentexan.blogspot.com/feeds/116156884137369027/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33501944&amp;postID=116156884137369027' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33501944/posts/default/116156884137369027'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33501944/posts/default/116156884137369027'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kentexan.blogspot.com/2006/10/vacation-appreciation_22.html' title='Vacation Appreciation'/><author><name>wes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11747654598071060681</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7286/2801/1600/RCwes.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33501944.post-116061224564162486</id><published>2006-10-11T16:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-11T17:41:56.250-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Salvation is here</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7286/2801/1600/Room2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7286/2801/320/Room2.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7286/2801/1600/Room1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7286/2801/320/Room1.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7286/2801/1600/Room3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7286/2801/320/Room3.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some Pictures of Mike and I's room. Note the atmosphere (thats a rare thing in these college dorms)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been thinking a lot about accepting Christ and what that means and what happens when you do it. I accepted him when I was 7 years old with my mother by my side to guide me. I can honestly say that I was NOT fully conscious of what I was doing at that moment. However, I have always felt I am a Christian and never doubted the fact that Christ lives in me and that I am constantly searching for him (even if I don't always call it that). These thoughts were never challenged in High School or around my UM church, where I grew up, but I have run into some people here at Asbury that think differently. A certain hall friend prayed with me after a moving chapel early last week. I felt called to go down front and pray, and with tears in my eyes I whole- heartedly walked down to the alter. The friend approached me and asked what was going on. I told him how I don't feel like there is very much love in my life- coming in or going out- and that I felt like I wasn't living up to my full potential in God. He immediately began telling me his story about how he grew up "Christian" but realized, apparently fairly recent, that he wasn't a Christian. He accepted Christ about 2 years ago and had his "moment". I don't feel like I've had that moment. I'll be honest. I have felt the obvious presence of the Holy Spirit in many situations and have found myself fervently asking God to reveal himself to me. But I can't really remember what I said in the car back in '93 when I accepted Christ. I am wondering about what it means to have a moment and if this is a biblical principle or a man-made idea; something we use as a measuring stick. Sometimes I feel like we live in a culture that heightens some testimonies and downplays others. Mine is relatively boring, as far as death to life stories go, and I can't remember a time when God was not in the back of my head guiding me. Sometimes I feel like I know sin and I know what I am saved from, but I don't &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;really&lt;/span&gt; know what I am saved from, because I've never been "without" God. He's always been a guiding force. So lately I am questioning my salvation and being very open about it. Because I figure, hey, its my soul. I don't wanna keep these thoughts I've had to myself. I want to let people know how I feel, so I can make it right and get on advancing the kingdom (something else I need to learn how to do).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Does having "the moment" at 7 years old make it null and void?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Must I redo it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What if sometimes I feel that I can never fully know absolute truth?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Am I a product of postmodernity, just unable to commit, or just not saved?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In love and honesty,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ps. I hate the word postmodern now, but the sad truth is, we're in it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33501944-116061224564162486?l=kentexan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kentexan.blogspot.com/feeds/116061224564162486/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33501944&amp;postID=116061224564162486' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33501944/posts/default/116061224564162486'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33501944/posts/default/116061224564162486'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kentexan.blogspot.com/2006/10/salvation-is-here.html' title='Salvation is here'/><author><name>wes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11747654598071060681</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7286/2801/1600/RCwes.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33501944.post-115975727936787819</id><published>2006-10-01T19:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-01T19:47:59.376-07:00</updated><title type='text'>thoughts</title><content type='html'>....&lt;br /&gt;American boy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I AM A PRODUCT OF some WRONG,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sitting in a worthwile educational institution,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;peering at the television,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;chuckling at another culture's time honored traditions,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(while) halfway trying to learn another language,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;eating a hershey's bar,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and contemplating my significance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;a perplexing picture, perfectly presenting problematic (self) pity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(who can help me when I don't think it will come)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33501944-115975727936787819?l=kentexan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kentexan.blogspot.com/feeds/115975727936787819/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33501944&amp;postID=115975727936787819' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33501944/posts/default/115975727936787819'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33501944/posts/default/115975727936787819'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kentexan.blogspot.com/2006/10/thoughts.html' title='thoughts'/><author><name>wes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11747654598071060681</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7286/2801/1600/RCwes.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33501944.post-115913849908829537</id><published>2006-09-24T15:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-24T20:09:27.276-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>a poem inspired by my favorite thing, friendship:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I once had a friendship that took 14 years to make.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At first, all I did, I did with him.&lt;br /&gt;We were inseperable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then came the time to make a choice,&lt;br /&gt; "forget about him, find your own voice!" (they'd say)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We parted ways on that bleek fall day, &lt;br /&gt;I left him there at starbucks wishing for more words to say.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Times went on and so did we,&lt;br /&gt;but NOT apart, for you see it was destiny.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Upon reflection he's my greatest human connection.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know why and I don't know how,&lt;br /&gt;But when it comes to us, I never doubt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cause if I lose what I have with him, &lt;br /&gt;there'll be no one there through my thick and thin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In earthly terms there is no price,&lt;br /&gt;to have a friend for all your life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(to a friend that will never know this exists)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;love, Wes&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33501944-115913849908829537?l=kentexan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kentexan.blogspot.com/feeds/115913849908829537/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33501944&amp;postID=115913849908829537' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33501944/posts/default/115913849908829537'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33501944/posts/default/115913849908829537'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kentexan.blogspot.com/2006/09/poem-inspired-by-my-favorite-thing.html' title=''/><author><name>wes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11747654598071060681</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7286/2801/1600/RCwes.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33501944.post-115786061735230774</id><published>2006-09-09T20:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-09-09T21:29:23.706-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Here is what I've been into:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;John 15&lt;br /&gt;1"I am the true vine, and my Father is the Farmer. 2He cuts off every branch in me that bears no fruit, while every branch that does bear fruit he prunes[1] so that it will be even more fruitful. 3You are already clean because of the word I have spoken to you. 4 Abide in me, and I will abide in you. No branch can bear fruit by itself; it must abide in the vine. Neither can you bear fruit unless you abide in me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5"I am the vine; you are the branches. If you abide in me and I in you, you will bear much fruit; apart from me you can do nothing. 6If you do not abide in me, you are like a branch that is thrown away and withers; such branches are picked up, thrown into the fire and burned. 7If you abide in me and my words abide in you, ask whatever you wish, and it will be given you. 8This is to my Father's glory, that you bear much fruit, showing yourselves to be my disciples.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9"As the Father has loved me, so have I loved you. Now abide in my love. 10If you obey my commands, you will abide in my love, just as I have obeyed my Father's commands and abide in his love. 11 I have told you this so that my joy may be in you and that your joy may be complete. 12 My command is this: Love each other as I have loved you. 13 Greater love has no one than this: to lay down one’s life for one’s friends. 14 You are my friends if you do what I command. 15 I no longer call you servants, because a servant does not know their master’s business. Instead, I have called you friends, for everything that I learned from my Father I have made known to you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;16 You did not choose me, but I chose you and appointed you to go and bear fruit--fruit that will last. Then the Father will give you whatever you ask in my name. 17 This is my command: Love each other.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is in the official Asbury Theological Seminary Translation. &lt;br /&gt;I've been trying to commit it to heart. In fact I am very close to having it memorized. I don't think of it as memorization though. I think of it more like hiding it in my heart. I can't describe how amazing it is to memorize scripture, and be able to quote it in times of trouble or blessing. I think the best way to understand the idea of a "spirit coming alive in you" is through meditation of God's word. It's become part of my thinking. JD said it well when he told me that it has to become like the thread of your life; everything is sewn up with it.  Life becomes more real, and more apparent. Right and wrong become definite. Your joy becomes fully complete. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you Jd:&lt;br /&gt;I told him that I had honestly never memorized a single verse of scripture apart from the ones we all know. His response was, "It's time." And he gave me this seminal passage to start with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its good to meditate on this as I am starting my first series of tests.&lt;br /&gt;Pray that I would have strength and peace as I study and take my exams this week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I challenge everyone to at least learn verses 1-2, it feels amazing to repeat it and know that it is true.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33501944-115786061735230774?l=kentexan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kentexan.blogspot.com/feeds/115786061735230774/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33501944&amp;postID=115786061735230774' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33501944/posts/default/115786061735230774'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33501944/posts/default/115786061735230774'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kentexan.blogspot.com/2006/09/here-is-what-ive-been-into-john-15-1i.html' title=''/><author><name>wes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11747654598071060681</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7286/2801/1600/RCwes.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33501944.post-115680202829144887</id><published>2006-08-28T14:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-08-29T17:39:57.933-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>It feels good to be blogging again. Is that good or bad? Who knows.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just wanted to get my thoughts out there again. I remember reading your blogs this summer and how much they helped me through Honduras.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My life has picked back up in the form or college, again. I am residing in Wilmore, KY and I am excited about my decision to come to Asbury College. In my first week here, I had an extremely assuring feeling from the Lord that what I was doing was right. I've never heard his voice so clearly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To quote a dorm neighbor, "Asbury is a place where you can go farther, faster than you ever have before."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope and pray that great things come of these next few years. And if anything great happens I'll let you know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sincereley,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wes&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/33501944-115680202829144887?l=kentexan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kentexan.blogspot.com/feeds/115680202829144887/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=33501944&amp;postID=115680202829144887' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33501944/posts/default/115680202829144887'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/33501944/posts/default/115680202829144887'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kentexan.blogspot.com/2006/08/it-feels-good-to-be-blogging-again.html' title=''/><author><name>wes</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11747654598071060681</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/7286/2801/1600/RCwes.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry></feed>
