<?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-2859095576701010885</id><updated>2012-02-16T17:06:50.582-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Honest, I don't know</title><subtitle type='html'>My musings, my thoughts, and a place to share my photos.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://honestidontknow.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2859095576701010885/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://honestidontknow.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Dudley</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13713189451708312252</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>3</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2859095576701010885.post-4344666113540297880</id><published>2009-06-30T02:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-30T02:31:01.326-07:00</updated><title type='text'>love pt 2</title><content type='html'>Finding what you’ve been searching for can be a precocious ordeal, but it is intrinsically sweet nonetheless. From my last post I explored what it means to finally figure out and to ask others to remind me that I’m loved, this post is another reflection on that idea. I have tossing and turning over something in mind. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why have I resisted other peoples, mine, and God’s love? Honestly, who would resist such a feeling, emotion, and verb? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The reason I have done so many times in the past is to put people in my debt. Now that sounds like a silly thing, how can I put people in my debt? I have this problem, I constantly search for meaning in the things I do. I constantly tell myself that I need to do things in order to find favor with people, but I also tell myself the opposite. That by doing things people owe me. What do people owe me? I have no earthly clue, but I do know my childish frustrations are founded in this lack of principle. I owe myself the credit I deserve. I’m constantly my worst enemy and when people wouldn’t pay back what I gave I felt worthless and not included. I’m a good guy and I should acknowledge that about myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My biggest fault is trying to put God into my debt. Seriously, like I could do that with him. I would always think, “I’m doing this for his kingdom, so he owes me happiness, etc.” He doesn’t owe me a thing. I would also perform as penance for my grievous actions, as if he owed me forgiveness. Another way I would put him in my debt is by perform passive humility whereas I wouldn’t take care myself in the name of others to please him, but also seek a greater seat later in life. My goodness, I sound and act like the disciples at those moments. Now love does something different. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love, we know the Corinthian ideals, and they are true. Love cuts through debt and says regardless of whom you are, where you have been, I’m still here fighting, crying, and celebrating you. Now when I hear that my friends love me, I’m starting to see how they’ve fought, how they’ve prayed, and how they think I’m a wonderful person regardless of what I have done for them. Therefore, I see how I worth being fought for, sought, prayed for, and seen in a joyous light. Most importantly, I see that God forgives me; I see that he felt every emotion I have felt, and he loves me enough to send his son to the cross for me. None of us deserve it, but he does nonetheless. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’m a dumb sheep that follows a good shepherd. I love you all dearly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Dudley&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2859095576701010885-4344666113540297880?l=honestidontknow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://honestidontknow.blogspot.com/feeds/4344666113540297880/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2859095576701010885&amp;postID=4344666113540297880' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2859095576701010885/posts/default/4344666113540297880'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2859095576701010885/posts/default/4344666113540297880'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://honestidontknow.blogspot.com/2009/06/love-pt-2.html' title='love pt 2'/><author><name>Dudley</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13713189451708312252</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2859095576701010885.post-6322376806145269758</id><published>2009-06-24T01:03:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-11-12T21:46:41.411-08:00</updated><title type='text'>to be loved</title><content type='html'>To be loved… I have a friend who wrote a song that states it is all we want. I think both are true. We want to be loved, but at the same time we don’t want to be loved. It is ridiculously late for me to be writing this, but I can’t sleep, and I’m having an epiphany. When I get those it is time to write. I have once again screwed up friendships, I didn’t do my cardinal sin which is curse and say bad things to them rather, I got emotional and pinned on them which is my other cardinal sin. Can you have two cardinal sins? Anyways, I have had conversations galore with people tonight and the last about love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First thing I can tell you that I don’t feel loved. Now that is a misnomer because I am in fact ridiculously loved, but because it doesn’t fill me up it therefore feels, not necessarily up to par, but it is lacking the correct love I should feel. I have a hard time feeling loved for many reasons; the number one has to be me. I don’t love myself. Now I’m not asking for narcissism, rather I’m talking about becoming willing to accept that I’m not that bad of a person, that what I do has worth. I need to stop searching for worth from people who already see mine. I need to realize that my potential is only limited because of myself. I need to stop feeling sorry for myself. Realizing my childhood wasn’t perfect and I put people in positions to fulfill those childhood needs is wrong. I don’t need a second mother and father. I need to see that all of my friends have tried their hardest to love me, and I need to accept that from them. The major thing I need is to see that God loves me. Religious overtones I know, but it is true. I honestly don’t think he does. I mean, I ask myself why he would like a man who practically acts like a boy, and so on and so on. But I need to see I am NO different from the 6.3 billion people in this world. In fact I have it better than 99 percent of this world. I need to see that the cross was sufficient. I need to stop acting like an Israelite and act like disciple. I need to be a dumb sheep and follow an amazing Shepherd. God loves me, he madly and crazily loves me, and he loves you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now if I’ve tagged you it means I care deeply and love you dearly. I want you to help me. This is how, you see a sad post, put God loves you , you see a crazed post put God loves you, and if you see at my lowest post put God loves you. Know that I dearly love all of you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dudley&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2859095576701010885-6322376806145269758?l=honestidontknow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://honestidontknow.blogspot.com/feeds/6322376806145269758/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2859095576701010885&amp;postID=6322376806145269758' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2859095576701010885/posts/default/6322376806145269758'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2859095576701010885/posts/default/6322376806145269758'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://honestidontknow.blogspot.com/2009/06/to-be-loved.html' title='to be loved'/><author><name>Dudley</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13713189451708312252</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2859095576701010885.post-1268663303001444071</id><published>2008-06-02T22:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-02T22:37:39.469-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Hurt feelings and wonderful sandwiches</title><content type='html'>The gravity of a hurt feelings and mistrust once again crashed down again onto my life. Today was a wonderful day at work, we hit target and broke a record in doing so, the day went quickly, and I had a California Connection sandwich from Central Market. Tonight, however, just brought that all crashing down. People feelings were hurt, pain, causing pain, both on purpose, and unintentionally throughout the night. Once again, I was reminded that this thing called humanity is severely broken and we are in absolute need of a Savior.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't sleep tonight, because I feel the pain within me the pain everyone else was feeling. Then in a moment of absolute clarity I was spoken too. I was reminded of why I have been called to live and journey with these people. We have the same calling, one certain dream, and that is at the foundation to chip away at the walls of a culture of slavery that still permeates throughout the world. I'm arrogant enough to think God has called us to do that such of a thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I mean to say while yes, our feeling and trust have been hurt, but we can forgive and move on because we've been called to something far bigger. I dare to say while our emotions, thoughts, and misunderstanding is real, it pales in comparison of the hurt and pain that we've been called to alleviate. Right now there are millions upon millions of women being forced into slavery so that they can serve as a means of pimped rape. That many of these women are younger than 15 and their innocence has been stolen from them. Right now there are countless children dying because they don't have clean water. Right now men are raping young girls because they think this will cure them from AIDS. Right now, women from God knows where are being brought here to the US as nothing more than a living sex toy. These injustices along with many others, are what are important right now. I can forgive and forget what has happen to me, but I must not rest until these things have been heard and the world moves to stop it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By Grace Alone,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;James T. Dudley&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2859095576701010885-1268663303001444071?l=honestidontknow.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://honestidontknow.blogspot.com/feeds/1268663303001444071/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2859095576701010885&amp;postID=1268663303001444071' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2859095576701010885/posts/default/1268663303001444071'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2859095576701010885/posts/default/1268663303001444071'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://honestidontknow.blogspot.com/2008/06/hurt-feelings-and-wonderful-sandwiches.html' title='Hurt feelings and wonderful sandwiches'/><author><name>Dudley</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13713189451708312252</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry></feed>
