<?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-15566057</id><updated>2011-09-28T19:51:29.052-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Any Small Coterie</title><subtitle type='html'>Todd Whatley</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://toddwhatley.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15566057/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://toddwhatley.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Todd Whatley</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07089644909372557569</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>4</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15566057.post-7564055441736616623</id><published>2011-09-28T19:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-28T19:46:25.177-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 100%; font-family: georgia;" align="CENTER"&gt;Peter Paul&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 100%; font-family: georgia;"&gt;He's a nice kid you know? I told him about how I'm at that hotel down the street. When asked me which one I told him that there was only one. I told him that I can do that for like 400 and make more progress than I do across the river. They don't do good for folks over there. They got the sewage all wrong. The water gets sticky, so sticky you can't always take a bath when it's your turn. The last time it was my turn I decided to wash some clothes in the tub. Run it hot, then scrub with a bar of soap. Can't always hang it up unless you want to lose it.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 100%; font-family: georgia;"&gt;This morning I did the churches. Communion at the Saint's and then over to the mission to get dry. They got that outreach on Main that's good for a sandwich. I told him that I was thinking I'd ditty bop that way after I sit outside a bit. Ditty Bop. He gave me that laugh that says he's good. I told him, I got him; like if he ever needs anything. He's a good kid. French Coffee and a soda.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 100%; font-family: georgia;"&gt;Outside he had the chair all laid up next to the tables. So yea, I want to sit down and I told him I'd put the chairs back after a half hour or so off my feet. You never know how the tables can turn, so I told him not to tell his right hand about his left: conflict of interest. He gave me that laugh again; he means well.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 100%; font-family: georgia;"&gt;Couldn't get a paper today, they want too much for the Sunday. Did find a piece of shine though. Made me feel right. Like a big guy, you know, with AC and a car? I showed the kid at the coffee shop and he was nice. I told him it was under the bridge. That shine means I'm worth something.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 100%; font-family: georgia;"&gt;The hotel ain't nothing. It's in a bad way over there but still better than that place across the river. I told the kid that my mother stayed there back in '95; had that room that looks at the river. I've stayed there a few times in that room. It's worth the money. He works all day Sundays, open and close. Not Mondays though. I asked him. He always tells me to be safe, sometimes he gives me a front: just a cup or two.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 100%; font-family: georgia;"&gt;I seen him at the pub too; I like that cause it means he don't want the story you know? I like that. We don't talk in the bar, I got a look and he knows it. Pretty girls in there sometimes. I told him he ought to snag him one. Take her on a date. I left him a tip and gave him one too. He laughed at that, like he does.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0in; line-height: 100%; font-family: georgia;"&gt;The company has some good stuff to say when no one else is around. They like to talk about how it was over the ocean. How we did all they wanted us too. Sometimes when they talk about that, it doesn't seem so bad. Sometimes they shouldn't talk at all, and they know it. Anyway the hotel is nice enough, and he's a nice kid. I always give him the driest money I got when I pay. He deserves it, he says I'm good; that I'm nice to him and folks. Much better over here than across the river you know? And nice kids deserve good things too.    &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15566057-7564055441736616623?l=toddwhatley.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://toddwhatley.blogspot.com/feeds/7564055441736616623/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15566057&amp;postID=7564055441736616623&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15566057/posts/default/7564055441736616623'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15566057/posts/default/7564055441736616623'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://toddwhatley.blogspot.com/2011/09/peter-paul-hes-nice-kid-you-know-i-told.html' title=''/><author><name>Todd Whatley</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07089644909372557569</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-15566057.post-3895791314914592596</id><published>2010-02-15T17:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-15T17:57:13.887-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>when it rains over the ocean&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-the last few days i've been at a friends apartment; i've been a guest. i think thats something we've lost touch with overall. we dont invite people into our homes. many of us, myself included have no idea about how to be a host or how to offer proper hospitality to those who stay with us. i wonder when and how that happened. my parents came into town to visit us; mostly my sister. i enjoy having them here and i want to be conscious of the manner and degree to which i offer them my home and hospitality.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- i found a plaque at a thrift store not long ago. after hanging it in my house i did some research on the origin of the poem it boasts. the title is "receive ye welcome" and was inscribed on a colonial inn. given my circumstance as a guest the past three days and now as a host i thought it would be prevalent for me to go over it again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;   &lt;blockquote&gt;     &lt;blockquote&gt;       &lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;L&lt;/strong&gt;ET the guest sojourning here know that in this home       our life is simple.  &lt;strong&gt;W&lt;/strong&gt;hat we &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;cannot afford&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;       we do not offer, but what good cheer we can give...we give gladly.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;       &lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;W&lt;/strong&gt;e make no strife for appearance sake.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;       &lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Know&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;strong&gt;also&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;, friend, that we       live a life of labour, therefore, if at times we separate ourselves from thee, do ye       occupy thyself &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;accordingly to thine heart's desire&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;       &lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;W&lt;/strong&gt;e will not defer to thee in opinion or ask thee to       defer to us.  &lt;strong&gt;W&lt;/strong&gt;hat thou thinketh ye shall say, if ye wish, without       giving offense.  &lt;strong&gt;W&lt;/strong&gt;hat we think, we also say, believing that truth       hath many aspects, and that love is large enough to encompass them all.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;       &lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;S&lt;/strong&gt;o, while ye tarry here with us we would have thee       enjoy the blessing of a home,&lt;em&gt; &lt;strong&gt;health, love and freedom, and we pray that mayst       find the final blessing of life.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;       &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;PEACE&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;     &lt;/blockquote&gt;   &lt;/blockquote&gt; &lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15566057-3895791314914592596?l=toddwhatley.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://toddwhatley.blogspot.com/feeds/3895791314914592596/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15566057&amp;postID=3895791314914592596&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15566057/posts/default/3895791314914592596'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15566057/posts/default/3895791314914592596'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://toddwhatley.blogspot.com/2010/02/when-it-rains-over-ocean-last-few-days_1926.html' title=''/><author><name>Todd Whatley</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07089644909372557569</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-15566057.post-4844618865101898184</id><published>2010-02-09T14:35:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-09T14:51:17.214-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>something about that tozer fellow&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- so im still reading this book and the more i pick it up the more my heart is broken. i found myself nearly in tears today. i know that my own sinfulness is so very evident in my life to those around me and yet i am constantly aware of my judgmental outlook at things that i have seen in my life before. what im reading has just been a slap across the face. God places things in our lives that do that all the time, but this time he gave it brass knuckles.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- it excites me that this book is so filled with truth. i know that the guys are going to love picking it apart. i also know that this is something that i need in my life. our personal experiences with God are our only way of knowing him and his character. truth born out of rote and lecture, even scripture can only teach so much outside of real intimacy with God.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- i want to pursue God with my prayers, my lifestyle, and my ambassadorship for Christ to with whom he has blessed me to come in contact. accomplishing that is directly related to murdering the pride and possessiveness in my heart. my selflessness is necessary for the visibility of Christ in my life. the passage i want to share from &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The Pursuit of God&lt;/span&gt; says what we so often need regarding what is necessary to overcome ourselves better than i can ever hope to:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;"The ancient curse will not go out painlessly; the tough old miser within us will not lie down and die obedient to our command. He must be torn out of our heart like a plant from the soil; he must be extracted in agony and blood like a tooth from the jaw. He must be expelled from our soul by violence as Christ expelled the money changers from the temple. And we shall need to steel ourselves against his piteous begging, and to recognize it as springing out of self-pity, one of the most reprehensible sins of the human heart."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;A. W. Tozer&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;from: &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The Pursuit of God&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;- something to think about anyway. we have a constant need to overcome ourselves and what our all too natural tendencies lend themselves toward. we are in need of humility; humility will only come as a result of painful displacement of our pride and possessiveness. we are never entitled to anything other than an audience with a God who desires to bless us without reservation or rationing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Roses&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15566057-4844618865101898184?l=toddwhatley.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://toddwhatley.blogspot.com/feeds/4844618865101898184/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15566057&amp;postID=4844618865101898184&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15566057/posts/default/4844618865101898184'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15566057/posts/default/4844618865101898184'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://toddwhatley.blogspot.com/2010/02/something-about-that-tozer-fellow-so-im.html' title=''/><author><name>Todd Whatley</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07089644909372557569</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-15566057.post-7567189133100741980</id><published>2010-02-08T16:24:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-08T16:43:58.945-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>to blog or not to blog&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ever since we all left xanga for facebook and whatever else, i feel like ive been missing out on just typing thoughts and offering input to what is sure to be no one at all most of the time; i wouldnt have it any other way. something about writing for its own sake is therapeutic. its a taste ive been without for what has now become years, and im taking it back. i find that the older i become the less comfortable i become with my own thoughts and opinions of the world around me: a ratio that seems somewhat skewed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the opportunity to create something without the pressure of criticism is almost non-existent. at this point the decision has been made, "to blog." inadequate though it may be, its communication with excused grammatical and syntactic errors, rhetoric with unexplained and unapologetic ramblings, suppositions without credibility; this is what i need in my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;---------------------------------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;music&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- this is a point in my life where i am making decisions about how to pursue music, what sort of role its going to play in my life, and how any of that is going to happen. ive written a record that the boys and myself are releasing in march....pause....that always sounds cooler than i anticipate it will actually be. "release" here really means: makes available for sale with high hopes that it has not indeed been a waste of time and efforts. i continue using the term because i have nothing else that makes since to use instead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- im also concerned that ive set myself up for failure because i have so much faith in this new material. this is the first time in my life that ive written music that has been totally honest. i havent tried to make it sound like anything, i havent tried to pick out what i think is unappealing, and i havent written anyhting with the intention of "making a statement." i think all of those have happened on their own this time around. i know that the holy spirit has been a part of the writing process.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- thats another thing. while i know that ive involved God in the writing process, im not sure how involved ive allowed him to be in anything after that. i know that he's orchestrated circumstances in my life that have to do with the music but i dont know that ive been giving him the freedom to do as he pleases with the entirety of my life, much less the entirety of what im creating.&lt;br /&gt;--------------------------------------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;enough already&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- i think ive had enough of this sort of pseudo-spirituality ive allowed to plague my life for the past months, even years. im reading &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The Pursuit of God&lt;/span&gt; by &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;A.W. Tozer&lt;/span&gt; with the guys in my a-team this semester and what ive read already has brought conviction into my life. im going to have to make some decisions if i plan to live up to the standard im asking God to hold me to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Roses&lt;br /&gt;(thats how i penned my posts for the blog i kept in high school-i think i may keep doing it)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/15566057-7567189133100741980?l=toddwhatley.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://toddwhatley.blogspot.com/feeds/7567189133100741980/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=15566057&amp;postID=7567189133100741980&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15566057/posts/default/7567189133100741980'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/15566057/posts/default/7567189133100741980'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://toddwhatley.blogspot.com/2010/02/to-blog-or-not-to-blog-ever-since-we.html' title=''/><author><name>Todd Whatley</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07089644909372557569</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></feed>
