Galatians 2:20a
I am crucified with Christ: nevertheless I live; yet not i, but Christ liveth in me:
My Life Verse

Ephesians 6:6

Not with eyeservice, as men pleasers; but as the servants of Christ, doing the will of God from the heart;

Sunday, March 29, 2009

Michael????


Jacob Irivn emailed me this picture that was taken when they were here in 2006.
wow...
Till Then,
Rachael

Wednesday, March 25, 2009

Tuesday, March 24, 2009

Holly BURNETTE?!?!?!?!


Daddy & Jesse Tearin' it up

Green, Pop, Tearin' it Up, Tennessee Style

So First, With the Green, is my room, i like to think of it as Vibrant Mint colored.
My official colors for my room( which could unofficially change at any given moment) are pink and green, with hints of blue and purple.

Next would be the pop!
(or as Kay said " The air all Fell out!" HAHAHA ROTFL!)
Last night Kailyn and Evan came to my house for a bit. Their dad came and got them and i thought they were gone, but like 5 seconds later there's a knock on the back door and as Kailyn and Evan described it there was a chushhhhhhhhhhhhhh sound coming from the front passenger side tire of the sub.
This my friends was the cause.

Tis just a little rock...yeah right! There was prob about an inch of it sticking out of the tire.
Needless to say, Evan experienced his first tire changing and got his hands dirty. Maegan got lost and Kailyn declared "EVERYBODY OUT OF THE CAR!!!" (you had to be there to get that)hehe

Next is the Tearin' it up Tennessee Style
The Joy Class had its annual Sweet Heart's Banquet Saturday night and My Dad and Jesse Kasinger played at the little hoe down and tore it up!
I have a video, but i'll have to up load it later.


Oh and i did my mommy's hair for the event...Shivangi, I won't say your wrong, it's just that i'm right=)

Till then,
Rachael

Wednesday, March 18, 2009

Wordless Wednesday


What Can i say?

Tuesday, March 10, 2009

Wuts Up

Here is wut has been up with me lately,
Last week and so far this week its been PAINTING! WhOOO!
I was informed yesterday that they are painting my room on Thursday.
So today i moved all my fruniture to the middle of my room, took down all my shelves and stuff on my walls, and washed my baseboards. Tomorrow i'm going to spackle and then sand it.
I get to pick my color and i think i'm going to go with a light green. It's called Alfalfa. Yeah i know.=)


Here is my currently Yellow wall.

All my furniture crammed in the middle of my room.

This is the color green=)

I saw these today in my back yard...this is offically my favourite flower. Butter Cups that are white on the outside and yellow on the inside.

Till Then,
Rachael

Saturday, March 7, 2009

Parent/Teen Banquet

Here are some pix from the preparation for the parent teen banquet, hopefully i'll have more later as i am gonna try to get the pics Rachel took.



Sorry i had to take a pic of a pic, this is Me and Ms. Angi Testing out the lighting for Ashley=)

Ms. Cassie did my hair, gorgeous eh? This is the top

Back

Me looking at becca cause she is CRAZY!


Sammy Linn's Dress that she let me wear last night and i got many compliments on.
When i took my hair down there were a total of 47 bobby pins holding it up.=)
Till Then,
Rachael

Wednesday, March 4, 2009

Tuesday, March 3, 2009

NOT FUNNY!

Alright who said that it was "Funny" that my camera is blind? It is suffering while you laugh!!!
Also who said my post about my bad dream was "Funny"?

I will find you!

Monday, March 2, 2009

I Broked it!

Hey All, after we took shivangi home last night i was getting in the front seat of the car and when i went to reach for the car door i forgot my camera was on my wrist and it went flying off onto the pavement! It is now blind from the traumatizing event. It will take a pic and even video and have sound, but the screen is black and the the pic comes out black. The flash still works...but my poor camera is blind!

If anyone knows of a remedy let me know! ( i found the two screws that hold it together but i'm not sure i can bear to cause my camera pain and take it apart)

Till then (there shant be many pics),
Rachael

Sunday, March 1, 2009

My Weekend


Art Friday was fun, we did self portraits...Justin sat in Time Out..=(

Ms. Cassie telling us about abstract.

Abstract of Ms. Cassies name made out of things she likes.

This is the list of ten things my picture of me were to be make of.
I changed sausage cheese rolls to txt lingo...sausage was too hard=)

Justin Odell and Marcy...she is total cuteness!

Ms. Cassies abstract.

Me and Lillian babysitting after art for the pomms.

What i did after the kids went to bed, along with working on my memory verse and watching Finding Neverland.

Yeah so Shivangi was soo excited that she got to go to church. We took a picture for the occasion and Justin had to be in it.

Yeah...much better=)
Till Then,
Rachael

I Have Been Blessed!!!!


THE ROOM

In that place between wakefulness and dreams, I found myself in the room.
There were no distinguishing features except for the one wall covered with small index card files. They were like the ones in libraries that list titles by author or subject in alphabetical order. But these files, which stretched from floor to ceiling and seemingly endless in either direction, had very different headings. As I drew near the wall of files, the first to
catch my attention was one that read "Girls I have liked." I opened it and began flipping through the cards. I quickly shut it, shocked to realize that I recognized the names written on each one. And then without being told, I knew exactly where I was.

This lifeless room with its small files was a crude catalog system for my life. Here were written the actions of my every moment, big and small, in a detail my memory couldn't match. A sense of wonder and curiosity, coupled with horror, stirred within me as I began randomly opening files and exploring their content. Some brought joy and sweet memories; others a sense of shame and regret so intense that I would look over my shoulder to see if anyone was watching.

A file named "Friends" was next to one marked "Friends I have betrayed." The titles ranged from the mundane to the outright weird "Books I Have Read," "Lies I Have Told," "Comfort I have Given," "Jokes I Have Laughed at." Some
were almost hilarious in their exactness: "Things I've yelled at my brothers." Others I couldn't laugh at: "Things I Have Done in My Anger", "Things I Have Muttered Under My Breath at My Parents." I never ceased to be surprised by the contents.

Often there were many more cards than I expected. Sometimes fewer than I hoped. I was overwhelmed by the sheer volume of the life I had lived. Could it be possible that I had the time in my years to fill each of these thousands or even millions of cards? But each card confirmed this truth.
Each was written in my own handwriting. Each signed with my signature.

When I pulled out the file marked "TV Shows I have watched", I realized the files grew to contain their contents. The cards were packed tightly, and yet after two or three yards, I hadn't found the end of the file. I shut it, shamed, not so much by the quality of shows but more by the vast time I knew that file represented.

When I came to a file marked "Lustful Thoughts," I felt a chill run through my body. I pulled the file out only an inch, not willing to test its size and drew out a card. I shuddered at its detailed content.

I felt sick to think that such a moment had been recorded. An almost animal rage broke on me. One thought dominated my mind: No one must ever see these cards! No one must ever see this room! I have to destroy them!" In insane frenzy I yanked the file out. Its size didn't matter now. I had to empty it
and burn the cards. But as I took it at one end and began pounding it on the floor, I could not dislodge a single card. I became desperate and pulled out a card, only to find it as strong as steel when I tried to tear it.

Defeated and utterly helpless, I returned the file to its slot. Leaning my forehead against the wall, I let out a long, self-pitying sigh.

And then I saw it. The title bore "People I Have Shared the Gospel With." The handle was brighter than those around it, newer, almost unused. I pulled on its handle and a small box not more than three inches long fell into my hands. I could count the cards it contained on one hand.

And then the tears came. I began to weep. Sobs so deep that they hurt. They started in my stomach and shook through me. I fell on my knees and cried. I cried out of shame, from the overwhelming shame of it all. The rows of file shelves swirled in my tear-filled eyes. No one must ever, ever know of this
room. I must lock it up and hide the key. But then as I pushed away the tears, I saw Him.

No, please not Him. Not here. Oh, anyone but Jesus. I watched helplessly as He began to open the files and read the cards. I couldn't bear to watch His response. And in the moments I could bring myself to look at His face, I saw
a sorrow deeper than my own.

He seemed to intuitively go to the worst boxes. Why did He have to read every one? Finally He turned and looked at me from across the room. He looked at me with pity in His eyes. But this was a pity that didn't anger me. I dropped my head, covered my face with my hands and began to cry again.
He walked over and put His arm around me. He could have said so many things. But He didn't say a word. He just cried with me.

Then He got up and walked back to the wall of files. Starting at one end of the room, He took out a file and, one by one, began to sign His name over mine on each card. "No!" I shouted rushing to Him. All I could find to say was "No, no," as I pulled the card from Him. His name shouldn't be on these cards. But there it was, written in red so rich, so dark, so alive. The name
of Jesus covered mine. It was written with His blood. He gently took the card back. He smiled a sad smile and began to sign the cards. I don't think I'll ever understand how He did it so quickly, but the next instant it seemed I heard Him close the last file and walk back to my side.

He placed His hand on my shoulder and said, "It is finished." I stood up, and He led me out of the room. There was no lock on its door. There were still cards to be written.
- Brian Moore