<?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-1176391980513443599</id><updated>2012-02-12T03:14:37.338-08:00</updated><category term='http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dUi2gbhP_mU'/><title type='text'>Living, Laughing and Loving Life</title><subtitle type='html'>My journal... this how it is for me to be a wilberg.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wilberglife.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1176391980513443599/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wilberglife.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Cristina Wilberg &amp;amp; Angela Cloward</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01767567047191010993</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oS24pbuJyZQ/TFmoP5WxznI/AAAAAAAAAmY/e4a0YRobARQ/S220/DSCN1925.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>39</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1176391980513443599.post-3411298857921686608</id><published>2011-10-08T10:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-08T10:43:11.663-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-TTRDjwsnJ-4/TpCLMogX7CI/AAAAAAAAAyw/Wsaut85rhC8/s1600/1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: #7f6000;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="267" kca="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-TTRDjwsnJ-4/TpCLMogX7CI/AAAAAAAAAyw/Wsaut85rhC8/s400/1.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: #7f6000;"&gt;﻿&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: yellow; font-size: large;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;"In Constant Creation"&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: #7f6000;"&gt;Picture this, you just got home from a nice day at the... (whatever makes you more relaxed) and as soon you walk through the door, you start to look around, your whole house is a big mess! There's paper all over the place, crayons "art" on your perfectly white walls, shoes, socks, toys, dirty dishes in the sink, on the table, on the floor and... what heck! How did cheerios got stuck to the celling? You take a deep breath and then, your insticve "spirit for creation" kicks in. Spirit for creation?! You must be asking your selves. Yes! I say. Aren't we all daughters of an incredibly creative God? Did He or did He not made us like unto His own image? Did we or did we not inheritage His likeness in body and spirit? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: #7f6000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #7f6000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: #7f6000;"&gt;So, what's the point? My point is that you don't give enough credibility to yourself when it comes about appreciating the talent that our Father in Heaven has bless you with. "Me? Talented? Ha-ha!" Hey, stop laughing at yourself! Because God has never laughed at you, if He did, He was laughing with you that's for sure. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #7f6000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: #7f6000;"&gt;Ok, let's go back to the messy house -I know, we do have the tendency to get a little distracted when it comes about house chores, but it always happen because something more important came out, so let's leave on that. We need to stick together on this girlfriends!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #7f6000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: #7f6000;"&gt;When your instinctive spirit of creation kicks in for witnessing such tragical mess in your lovely home, the first feeling you get is... no, no! Is not "let's clean this mess", but "let's create a better environment". That's very godly to think that way.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #7f6000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: #7f6000;"&gt;Remember when our Father in Heaven created the world, what was the first thing that He saw when He decided to create? Let's check it out in Genesis 1: 2 "And the earth was without form, and void..." Hum! I'm sure that was not a pretty sight in the Lord's eyes. And what did He do about that? His creative spirit went into action! He created light, the heavens, the waters, the plants and flowers, and all living creatures, and then, after creating this beautiful and glorious world, He created man and woman, to live and enjoy the bliss of His wonderful creation. Amazing huh? Now, let's go back AGAIN to our messy house, is time to create! And you look around and ask yourself "where do I start?" It's ok, you can go ahead and laugh, now you are figuring it out how normal you are huh? I'm pretty sure that we all have asked ourselves the same question "where do I begin". Now, you start to use your super powers to start creating. You pick one piece of paper off the carpet and then another and another, and all the sudden they disappear! They all safely "invisible" in the garbage bag. Now you move on to the dishes, next is vacuuming the crumbs of the floor, and miraculously remove the crayon's mark off the walls and then, everything begins to take form... your house begins to look like a home again. It is finished! And it is glorious and beautiful! If were for you, you could just sit down and stare it at all day huh? But you can't. :( yeah, I know, is sad. But the purpose of creating all is that so your children can enjoy the beauty of your efforts in creating something so wonderful. Look at our Father in Heaven for example. He created this beautiful earth in such a manner that there's no way we cannot feel the purpose of all that. He did so we may have joy and find comfort and peace even when we don't need it.The beauty of His creations are always there. He knew exactly what we would do to it in the future, He knew how messy we would get, and many of us would care less for many of His gorgeous creations. But yet, He did not refrain Himself for doing it any way, and He still does, He still creates to this day, to this very second. Let's think about for a minute. From now on, when we ask ourselves "why do I keep doing this? When can I enjoy the privilege of having my house organized for at least one day?" think about this, God is constantly creating good air so we can breathe, right? If he did think like us, you know what He would say? He would say "I'm so tired to create clean air all the time for these messy children, they just keep sending that junk in the air all the time with their pollution. I'm just going to quit all together, I'm done doing that. Why should I keep creating clean air for them to breathe if they are going to keep throwing more and more pollution out again" Can you imagine if the Lord would think like that? Oh boy! We would all be in big trouble. Bless His heart that He does not think like we do. But we can think like him. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #7f6000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: #7f6000;"&gt;For the same reason He is constantly creating for our own good, so should we keep moving forward on doing the same with a cheerful heart and with your head held high for knowing that you are not a talentless being. You have the gift of creation! How wonderful is that?! You can create a whole new environment for your family to enjoy over and over again, and especially when things seems to be upside down in your home. You have the super power to make your child feel better when he gets hurt. You are God like. You are a future Queen! Because you are the daughter of a true King and that makes of you a true princess, and someday, you will have the right to claim the throne that belongs to you so you can rule you very own kingdom, and here on earth, we are all just practicing for when that day comes. And on that day he will gently hold your face and look at you deep into your eyes and say "welcome home Princess! Welcome home!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: #7f6000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: #7f6000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1176391980513443599-3411298857921686608?l=wilberglife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wilberglife.blogspot.com/feeds/3411298857921686608/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://wilberglife.blogspot.com/2011/10/picture-this-you-just-got-home-from.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1176391980513443599/posts/default/3411298857921686608'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1176391980513443599/posts/default/3411298857921686608'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wilberglife.blogspot.com/2011/10/picture-this-you-just-got-home-from.html' title=''/><author><name>Cristina Wilberg &amp;amp; Angela Cloward</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01767567047191010993</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oS24pbuJyZQ/TFmoP5WxznI/AAAAAAAAAmY/e4a0YRobARQ/S220/DSCN1925.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-TTRDjwsnJ-4/TpCLMogX7CI/AAAAAAAAAyw/Wsaut85rhC8/s72-c/1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1176391980513443599.post-4687468408236181442</id><published>2011-06-09T04:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-06-09T04:56:54.287-07:00</updated><title type='text'>why you don't like me?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;How many of us make the mistake to rely on one person's opinion? How many of us has ever felt that crazy desire to go after someone who has all of the sudden stop talking to you, has change the way they behave around you, and if that was not enough, you started to question the worth of your well being?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;And how about that feeling of trying to get somebody's approval that we are a good person? Yeah... I do know this feeling very well.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;I have been going through some trials of my own on that. And my first temptation of action that came to mind was, to go the person who I am having issues with and try to get out that person's mouth to say that I am a good friend and that there's nothing wrong with me. And I felt like that if that person did not change her mind, her thoughts about me that will ruin my life because I won’t be able to&amp;nbsp;move foward&amp;nbsp;until that person tells me that I am a good person! Especially,&amp;nbsp;if&amp;nbsp;I don't know&amp;nbsp;what the heck have I done wrong? And with all that going on in my head, Satan steps right in to say "the problem... is YOU!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;That was the last drop! I won't allowed my self to be bully like that!&amp;nbsp;I was determinate to take measures into my own hands. I had to prove to whoever, that&amp;nbsp;I was not the problem, because&amp;nbsp;if I&amp;nbsp;don't do that, I will go throught the rest of my life thinking "yes, satan is right, I am the problem".&amp;nbsp;But then, another person came to my mind. How could I have forgotten about that person? I asked my self. Maybe, he is mad at me too! Oh boy! I need to call him and invite him over to come and talk to me before I do anything about that other person. And so I did.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;At first, I was very scared of face him. However, I knew I had to. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;In my thoughts, I called him “Jesus, are you there? Do you have time? Or are you mad at me too? Can you come and talk to me? And this picture popped out in my mind. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-JfgQIA5-oNE/TfCq-oQ5_3I/AAAAAAAAAyc/v3kqYflejgA/s1600/youarespecial.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="400" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-JfgQIA5-oNE/TfCq-oQ5_3I/AAAAAAAAAyc/v3kqYflejgA/s400/youarespecial.jpg" t8="true" width="365" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;Is&amp;nbsp;from the book “You are special”… then I knew He was listening.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;I told Him how I was feeling about the situation with the other person and how was I letting that bugging me. After I finish telling him&amp;nbsp;everything that was in my heart, I started to feel him so close… and I in my mind I saw Him, touching my chin, making me look into his eyes, and as I did, I heard him asking me “why are you letting them put dots and stars on you?” ....Oh, boy! I knew at that very moment why He wants me to remember the story "you are special".&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-6hwzwG3QXlI/TfCrKHSXtQI/AAAAAAAAAyk/5KsHUbHerEM/s1600/my_child.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="400" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-6hwzwG3QXlI/TfCrKHSXtQI/AAAAAAAAAyk/5KsHUbHerEM/s400/my_child.jpg" t8="true" width="311" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;I felt ashamed… how could I forget that the most important opinion of all came from him, my Savior. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;With that, I want to cry, but I fell asleep.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;In the morning, when I woke, I was feeling pretty sad, thinking, that Jesus, was very disappointed at me. But as soon as I opened my eyes I start to hear this song in my mind by “The Pretenders”.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: #f3f3f3; color: black;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"Oh! Why you look so sad? The tears are in your eyes&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: #f3f3f3; color: black;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Come on and&amp;nbsp;come to me now.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: #f3f3f3; color: black;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Don't be ashamed to cry, let me see you through&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: #f3f3f3; color: black;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Cause I've seen the dark side too&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: #f3f3f3; color: black;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;When&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt; the night falls on you, and you don't know what to do&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: #f3f3f3; color: black;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Nothing you confess, could make me love you less&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: #f3f3f3; color: black;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I'll stand by you, I'll stand by you&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: #f3f3f3; color: black;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Wont let anybody hurt you, I'll stand by you&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: #f3f3f3; color: black;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;So, if you're mad, get mad! Don't hold it all inside&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: #f3f3f3; color: black;"&gt;Come on and talk to me now&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: #f3f3f3; color: black;"&gt;Hey, what you got to hide? I get angry too&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: #f3f3f3; color: black;"&gt;Well, I am a lot like you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: #f3f3f3; color: black;"&gt;When you standing at the crossroads. don't know wich path to choose&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: #f3f3f3; color: black;"&gt;Let me come along, cause even if you're wrong&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: #f3f3f3; color: black;"&gt;I'll stand by you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: #f3f3f3; color: black;"&gt;Take me into your darkest hour, and I'll never desert you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: #f3f3f3; color: black;"&gt;And when the night falls on your babe, and you feeling all alone&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: #f3f3f3; color: black;"&gt;You wont be on your own... I'll stand by you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;And as that whole song played in my mind, I knew that he wants to make sure I would be alright and that I would know for sure how much he loves me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;I’ll try to always remember this&amp;gt;&amp;gt;&amp;gt; NO MORE DOTS AND STARS FOR ME! Because all I really need to care is that I am living in a way that pleases him. And as long I know that to be right, I will be happy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;I am not the only one he feels that way, is for every single one of us!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-GQ1GqetMObU/TfC08DtceTI/AAAAAAAAAys/PVJsKNWq78s/s1600/jesus-with-children-1209.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="400" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-GQ1GqetMObU/TfC08DtceTI/AAAAAAAAAys/PVJsKNWq78s/s400/jesus-with-children-1209.jpg" t8="true" width="273" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1176391980513443599-4687468408236181442?l=wilberglife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wilberglife.blogspot.com/feeds/4687468408236181442/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://wilberglife.blogspot.com/2011/06/why-you-dont-like-me.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1176391980513443599/posts/default/4687468408236181442'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1176391980513443599/posts/default/4687468408236181442'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wilberglife.blogspot.com/2011/06/why-you-dont-like-me.html' title='why you don&apos;t like me?'/><author><name>Cristina Wilberg &amp;amp; Angela Cloward</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01767567047191010993</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oS24pbuJyZQ/TFmoP5WxznI/AAAAAAAAAmY/e4a0YRobARQ/S220/DSCN1925.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-JfgQIA5-oNE/TfCq-oQ5_3I/AAAAAAAAAyc/v3kqYflejgA/s72-c/youarespecial.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1176391980513443599.post-6617366966055908368</id><published>2011-04-15T23:29:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-15T23:31:07.323-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My dad's killer got out</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;The Debt&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;My dear friend Joelma, came over to see me at my sister’s house when I was visiting Brazil couple of weeks ago. Joelma is a very dear friend to me, she is a member of the church like me and she wants to introduce me her new boyfriend, Mauro. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;We all sat down, and she looked at me and said “Cris, I am very disappointed today”. I asked her why was she so sad and she said “ It’s because the killer of my Father is getting out prison today. And I can‘t believe Heavenly Father is letting him get out of prison after only two months! That‘s so unfair. I want him to die! So he can pay for what he had done to my dad”. So looking at her I tried to explain that was not worth to stay angry, it would only make her miserable, and that’s why Jesus Christ died for all of us. She looked kind surprise after what I had just said, but I told her she has to let go what happen and that she must forgive. Joelma asked me “how can that be done? He did something horrible and I want him to die!” Than came to my mind the story of Elder Paker about the boy who owned a lot money to a lender. So I asked Joelma, just imagine, that every sin that this man has committed against you and your father had turned into money. Let’s say that the total is a $1.000.00.00.00, and he cannot afford to pay you the total amount. And this man comes to you and says “Joelma, I only have a dime to give, because there’s no way I can pay you the amount I owned”. However, you Joelma, you want the full price to be paid and you know you can not afford to let go of his debt, because of your immense lost. But just imagine this for a moment… you are furious, and you want his debt to be pay immediately, you want justice! And than, comes Jesus, with a sac full of money, with the exact amount that needs to be paid for, and he offers it to you with one condition “Here is the money for this man’s debit. Now my daughter, only one thing I asked of you, whatever this man has owned, he wont own you anymore, now whatever blame or demand that you may hold against this man, you may ask of me now, because his debt is now paid. And now, me being his debtor, he will have to deal with me for anything that may own against any of my children. If you would like to accuse him, accuse me.” Joelma, with tears in her eyes asked me “how can I accuse him Cris? Jesus has not done anything to offend me.” I look at her and said “that’s the reason why he died for all of us.” That’s what forgiveness it’s all about. It does not mean that you have to accept the wrong that has been done, but it means to let Jesus Christ’ sacrifice work into heart… to let the healing begin. Then she said “but what if I am not ready to accept his offer?” I told her that Jesus Chris will never force anyone to accept anything, that’s why He whiling volunteer to give his own life in offer as a sacrifice to redeem man kind from their sins. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;And for those who are ready to accept, He’s there ready to give you the “money” to pay for your debit. As much as He will step in and pay for someone offenses against us, so will He pay for us to somebody who we have offended.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;In The name of Jesus Christ,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;Amen.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1176391980513443599-6617366966055908368?l=wilberglife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wilberglife.blogspot.com/feeds/6617366966055908368/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://wilberglife.blogspot.com/2011/04/my-dads-killer-got-out.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1176391980513443599/posts/default/6617366966055908368'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1176391980513443599/posts/default/6617366966055908368'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wilberglife.blogspot.com/2011/04/my-dads-killer-got-out.html' title='My dad&apos;s killer got out'/><author><name>Cristina Wilberg &amp;amp; Angela Cloward</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01767567047191010993</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oS24pbuJyZQ/TFmoP5WxznI/AAAAAAAAAmY/e4a0YRobARQ/S220/DSCN1925.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1176391980513443599.post-6999868893682955339</id><published>2011-03-23T01:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-23T01:14:07.589-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What Heaven Sees In You</title><content type='html'>&lt;iframe height="344" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/C8TNpZOdYA8?fs=1" frameborder="0" width="425" allowfullscreen=""&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1176391980513443599-6999868893682955339?l=wilberglife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wilberglife.blogspot.com/feeds/6999868893682955339/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://wilberglife.blogspot.com/2011/03/what-heaven-sees-in-you_23.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1176391980513443599/posts/default/6999868893682955339'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1176391980513443599/posts/default/6999868893682955339'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wilberglife.blogspot.com/2011/03/what-heaven-sees-in-you_23.html' title='What Heaven Sees In You'/><author><name>Cristina Wilberg &amp;amp; Angela Cloward</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01767567047191010993</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oS24pbuJyZQ/TFmoP5WxznI/AAAAAAAAAmY/e4a0YRobARQ/S220/DSCN1925.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://img.youtube.com/vi/C8TNpZOdYA8/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1176391980513443599.post-8572214014511636384</id><published>2010-12-28T01:16:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-28T01:16:31.835-08:00</updated><title type='text'>2010...The most important lesson</title><content type='html'>You know, I've been thinking about this year of 2010, and what have I learned from all the trials and from the good and the bad experiences. &lt;br /&gt;I'll tell you that, God has really thought me&amp;nbsp;some very important lessons about&amp;nbsp; FREE AGENCY and many other gifts. &lt;br /&gt;I learned that we do have the free will to choose.. man! Is kinda hard to talk about this for me, because, the Lord showed me in a very sacred way the value of free will. I'll just let you know this, FREE WILL it's an amazing, wonderful gift! And I'm so greateful, very greateful to have and to know how important it is. But there is a limit, there is a moment were God has to step in and make the final choice for you, and is at that point, were your free will don't really matter, you have to live with the consequence of that choice, being that choice good or bad (O be wise: what can I say?- Jacob 6-12).&lt;br /&gt;That's all I can say... be wise.&lt;br /&gt;This year I learned to loose the FEAR OF DEATH. Loosing those who I loved so dearly, and even mourning for those who lost someone that I haven't even met, help me to grow the desired in my heart to be READY when my time comes. &lt;br /&gt;To deal with so many deaths this year, has showed me that&amp;nbsp;it is real, and it does come to everybody and everyone, specially to those close to us... even me. And it can come in the most unexpected way. That's why we&amp;nbsp;have to&amp;nbsp;LIVE our lives, and not just survived.&lt;br /&gt;This year I've learned that GOD's will is more important than anything. He is the wisest of the wisest, and no matter how much we want something, His final decision is the most important... BECAUSE HE KNOWS BETTER! And I have a testimony of that.&lt;br /&gt;This year I learned that God never, never leaves us alone, He is always there, right by our side. &lt;br /&gt;This year I had to learned to reconized when He was with me, I had to learn to read His little daily love notes to me saying "Good morning child! I'm here". He helped me to&amp;nbsp;open my eyes to see Him in my husband's beautiful eyes, in my children's laugh, in a friend's smile, in a beautiful sunny day, in a very storming night (I love the rain!), in a very cloudy day, in the blowing wind, in a bird flying in the sky, in the air I breathe, in the beat of my love's heart... He show me all this by saying "you see child, I'm everywhere. Anytime you need me, I'm here. And all you need to do, is open your eyes to see Me right in front of you". He's is there even when there's nothing to see, even, if I was locked in a completely empty and&amp;nbsp;dark room, He would still be there inside me, in the beating of my heart, in every breath that I take.&lt;br /&gt;I've learned this year, that when I feel tormented, stressed or distracted, and one of my children comes to me asking for something like a glass of water, milk, or for some atention, so I got that as God saying "look at me child, I'm just reminding you, I'm right here" (Suffer the little children to come unto me, because theirs is the kingdom of God).&lt;br /&gt;I've learned this year, what great gift is to have a fisical body. But on top of that, I learned that my body don't make me who I truely Am. It's funny how i didn't really get these things before. We learned over and over again in church about the importance of your spirit well being. But then,&amp;nbsp;satan step's right in makes you forget all, by tell&amp;nbsp;you "your body makes you who you are". And today I looked at my body and thought to my self "man! no matter how hard I try to keep my self looking young, when we are&amp;nbsp;all going to have the same destiny... we are all going to die and leave this body&amp;nbsp;on the&amp;nbsp;earth for while...".&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;Look at your&amp;nbsp;hand right now, come on, look! Open and close&amp;nbsp;her. Don't you see? That's is not just your body or your brain doing it... IT'S YOUR SPIRIT! Think about it! You did not have a body before, and now, you have this wonderful gift that you can control, that you can feel, smell, speak, blink, see, taste,&amp;nbsp; breath... just feel it for a moment... relax, let your spirit enjoy this now... your true self... your celestial self... :) That's who you are... you are celestial... a&amp;nbsp;child of God. &lt;br /&gt;Please, don't look at imperfections right now, just be greateful, just live this moment, let your spirit be joyful about this wonderful gift. And to think that two of us, a Man and a Woman together they carry the ingredients that God uses to create more bodies, holy temples, houses for others spirits who will have this same privilege... it's all&amp;nbsp;a beautiful miracle! This is the perfect word to describe... BEAUTIFUL!&lt;br /&gt;Another very important lesson learned in 2010 is always BE GREATEFUL! Not just in words, but by actions too. I learned that a greatful person keeps a very positive atitude about things. And I had to learned that in a very hard way, but I did get the message ;0)&lt;br /&gt;And the final lesson (for now, because I know I have a lot a lot to learn still), TRUST IN GOD WITH ALL THY HEART MIND AND SOUL! That's a testimony I have very strong is DO NOT QUESTION, DO NOT ASK WHY, BUT WHEN GOD ALLOW SOMETHING TO HAPPEN IT'S BECAUSE HE KNOWS BETTER!!!&lt;br /&gt;I am witness of our Father in Heaven's power. I trust Him will all my heart, even when things seems so dificult and hopeless, I know is for our own good. LET THY WILL BE DONE LORD! I don't know how many times I had to do that this year, but I tell you something, everytime I did, things turned around ok, even more than ok. And there is not such a thing as "hopeless", as long as the Savior of the world lives, there will be hope, because Jesus Christ is hope in the form of a person, and He will live forever, and so will hope.&lt;br /&gt;I leave this testemony with all of you for 2010:&lt;br /&gt;God and Jesus Christ live! And their love for us is infinite! And to&amp;nbsp;trust in God is the greatest gift that someone can seek for. And gratitude can bring peace and happiness to someone's heart.&lt;br /&gt;And don't forget " You are a&amp;nbsp;spirit being having human experiences".&lt;br /&gt;In The name of Jesus Christ,&lt;br /&gt;Amen.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1176391980513443599-8572214014511636384?l=wilberglife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wilberglife.blogspot.com/feeds/8572214014511636384/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://wilberglife.blogspot.com/2010/12/2010the-most-important-lesson.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1176391980513443599/posts/default/8572214014511636384'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1176391980513443599/posts/default/8572214014511636384'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wilberglife.blogspot.com/2010/12/2010the-most-important-lesson.html' title='2010...The most important lesson'/><author><name>Cristina Wilberg &amp;amp; Angela Cloward</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01767567047191010993</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oS24pbuJyZQ/TFmoP5WxznI/AAAAAAAAAmY/e4a0YRobARQ/S220/DSCN1925.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1176391980513443599.post-7526104568928740576</id><published>2010-12-20T14:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-20T15:00:14.423-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I want a Jesus' visit for Christmas</title><content type='html'>I want to share with all of you a little Christmas story that I've heard when I was 8 years old from a teacher of my from 2nd grade.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;"I want a Jesus' visit for Christmas"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;It was Christmas eve, and the rich lady was getting ready for bed. She had all the money that someone would like to have, and a beautiful family, and a very nice home. And before she laid down to sleep, she prayed. In her prayer, she asked God "Father in Heaven, I'm very thankful for all that you have done for me, but one thing I ask of thee, please let me have Jesus come to visit me tomorrow, on Christmas day, that would make my life so worth living." And she fell asleep with tears in hear eyes. &lt;br /&gt;That night, she had a dream. In her dream Jesus came to her and said "you shall have as you wish, I'll come tomorrow to spend Christmas with you". And she woke up with her heart full of joy!&lt;br /&gt;She sent the servants to clean up the whole house, and to cook the best feast, because "on this day" she said "we are going to have a very, very special gest. I want everything to be perfect!".&lt;br /&gt;And as the day&amp;nbsp;went on, she hears a knock on the door, she runs to open and to her surprise, there it was, a homeless man baging for some food. She looks at him and says "Oh, I'm so sorry! I wish I could help you today, but I am waiting for someone very special, but if you come back tomorrow, I'll for sure feed you ok?" And the man went on his way.&lt;br /&gt;Few hours later, there was another knock at the door, "that must be Him!" she says, and when she opens, there it was a couple of hungry children baging for some food. She looks at them and says "oh my darlings! I wish I could invite you in, but I am waiting for someone really special today, come back tomorrow, and I give you something all right?" And the children went on their way too.&lt;br /&gt;The day&amp;nbsp;was near the end, and Jesus did not come, and the rich lady's heart was broken... "how could you Lord? You promised me that you would come" and feeling so sad, she deicided to go to bed. And in her dreams, Jesus came again, and she asked him "Lord, why you did not come? I had everything ready for you, but you did not come...why?" And Jesus looked in her eyes and says "My dear child, I came twice to your door and I was very hungry, and both times you send me way".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;May the true spirit of Christ will shine in your heart!&lt;br /&gt;Happy CHRISTmas!&lt;br /&gt;Feliz Natal!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oS24pbuJyZQ/TQ_aU645cbI/AAAAAAAAAuk/HDxId2GNbjY/s1600/7-woman-at-jesus-feet.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" n4="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oS24pbuJyZQ/TQ_aU645cbI/AAAAAAAAAuk/HDxId2GNbjY/s400/7-woman-at-jesus-feet.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1176391980513443599-7526104568928740576?l=wilberglife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wilberglife.blogspot.com/feeds/7526104568928740576/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://wilberglife.blogspot.com/2010/12/i-want-jesus-visit-for-christmas.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1176391980513443599/posts/default/7526104568928740576'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1176391980513443599/posts/default/7526104568928740576'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wilberglife.blogspot.com/2010/12/i-want-jesus-visit-for-christmas.html' title='I want a Jesus&apos; visit for Christmas'/><author><name>Cristina Wilberg &amp;amp; Angela Cloward</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01767567047191010993</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oS24pbuJyZQ/TFmoP5WxznI/AAAAAAAAAmY/e4a0YRobARQ/S220/DSCN1925.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oS24pbuJyZQ/TQ_aU645cbI/AAAAAAAAAuk/HDxId2GNbjY/s72-c/7-woman-at-jesus-feet.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1176391980513443599.post-2916068770265882035</id><published>2010-11-28T14:06:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-28T14:20:47.388-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Steve died...</title><content type='html'>Steve died, and went to heaven. When he arrived there, he noticed a line of people in front of a door waiting. &lt;br /&gt;So asked the person in front of him " what is going on there?" &lt;br /&gt;The person anwsers "We are all waiting to be interviewed."&lt;br /&gt;So Steve waited for his turn. And as came closer to the door, he could hear the person who was in front of him being interviewed. He heard the man asking the person "Do you know Jesus?" and the Man says "yes, I do. I know that He preached on the earth, and that He callded apostles to help him on his work". "that's very good." The interviewer says. And then he repeats the question "do you know Jesus?" and the man says "I know that he's our Savior, and that he gave up his life to save all of us." The interviewer looks down&amp;nbsp;with a dispointment&amp;nbsp;expression on his face and tells the man that he could go now, and he calls the next person in line.&lt;br /&gt;Steve enters the room, and when he looks at the interviewer's face he falls down on his knees and says "My Lord! My God! My Savior!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oS24pbuJyZQ/TPLR-yS6wyI/AAAAAAAAAuI/zwKaZsxFX1Y/s1600/thankful.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="400" ox="true" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oS24pbuJyZQ/TPLR-yS6wyI/AAAAAAAAAuI/zwKaZsxFX1Y/s400/thankful.gif" width="372" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;He Lives! My kindly heavenly friend...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;He Lives My mansion To Prepare...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;He Lives to bring me Savely there.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #cc0000; font-size: large;"&gt;Do we know Jesus?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oS24pbuJyZQ/TPLR4jGfxPI/AAAAAAAAAuE/wg_RRdA9i_Q/s1600/Jesus%252520Christ.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="400" ox="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oS24pbuJyZQ/TPLR4jGfxPI/AAAAAAAAAuE/wg_RRdA9i_Q/s400/Jesus%252520Christ.jpg" width="266" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: #cc0000; font-size: x-large;"&gt;I know that My Redeemer Lives!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1176391980513443599-2916068770265882035?l=wilberglife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wilberglife.blogspot.com/feeds/2916068770265882035/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://wilberglife.blogspot.com/2010/11/steve-died.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1176391980513443599/posts/default/2916068770265882035'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1176391980513443599/posts/default/2916068770265882035'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wilberglife.blogspot.com/2010/11/steve-died.html' title='Steve died...'/><author><name>Cristina Wilberg &amp;amp; Angela Cloward</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01767567047191010993</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oS24pbuJyZQ/TFmoP5WxznI/AAAAAAAAAmY/e4a0YRobARQ/S220/DSCN1925.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oS24pbuJyZQ/TPLR-yS6wyI/AAAAAAAAAuI/zwKaZsxFX1Y/s72-c/thankful.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1176391980513443599.post-40330050735742638</id><published>2010-11-05T09:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-11-05T09:41:13.367-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Why do I have To go to Church on Sunday?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oS24pbuJyZQ/TNQxj-0hJxI/AAAAAAAAAtk/Jjhz3ITToY8/s1600/thinking.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="190" px="true" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oS24pbuJyZQ/TNQxj-0hJxI/AAAAAAAAAtk/Jjhz3ITToY8/s400/thinking.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;I have been thinking about this for a while now, why do I have to go church every Sunday? Does it really matter if I'm there or not? Why so many of the people I know has gone inactive? Why?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;After pondering about this, something really hard striked me about our Father in Heaven.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;I've heard so many reasons of the "why" someone decided not to go church any more. But one of them that really got me was "I don't need go to church. God don't really care if I'm not there, as long as I keep worshiping from my house, that's all that really matters, because I know He loves me." You know what? There's some truth to that, the part where this person said "I know He loves me" That is true, He loves&amp;nbsp;every single person on this planet. But why would God go through so much... sooo much to have His gospel restored in these latter days, if don't really matter if we are in church or not? Would not be better if He let everything&amp;nbsp; to be the same from 200 years ago?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;You know, ingratitude is one of the number one feelings in this world today. Think of all the things God's chosen have to go through to have this gospel to be&amp;nbsp;restored to this Earth. Look at Joseph Smith, the Pioneers, the Apostles of old... look at our Savior Jesus Christ. If our Father in Heaven don't really care having us on church every sunday, why would He sacrifice His only begotten Son? Why would He allowed such kind man as Joseph Smith, to suffer so much for the church's sake?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;And that's how much it matter for all of us to be&amp;nbsp;at church on sundays. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;Do we have a testemony of these people who went through severe trials so we could all have what we have now? I do.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;It is important that we keep worshiping God from our homes, from our cars, from anywhere, as long we don't lose sight of the importance of the Restoration. This work cost the lives of many, many wonderful people so we could all enjoy the blessings of worshiping God at His house too... every sunday.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;He loves us dearly, every single one of us.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;Is unbelieveble how so many go inactive for very, very foolish reasons. The church of Christ is not a chuch of the people, but the church of God. The members will never be perfect, but God himself always will.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;One time, my Bishop asked the sunday school class this question "why are you guys here today?" after listining to all the anwsers, he said "you're all right. But the number one reason you are all here today is because God has pre-ordeained you, and you all here because of Him."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;And he is right!!! That's why I need to be there! I love my God, and not just the people.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;I'm very blessed to be part of the restored gospel... WHAT A BLESSING IT HAS BEEN IN MY LIFE!!! I'M TRUELY A HAPPY PERSON!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;I'm very blessed to be in a ward full of really wonderful people, who cares about each other, but even though, if that was not case, I would still go, because all that really matters is that matters to God that I am there every sunday.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;In the name of Jesus Christ,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;Amen.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oS24pbuJyZQ/TNQyCYk9V3I/AAAAAAAAAto/4_pAHuNz8l8/s1600/first-vision.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="400" px="true" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oS24pbuJyZQ/TNQyCYk9V3I/AAAAAAAAAto/4_pAHuNz8l8/s400/first-vision.jpg" width="306" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;It really happen... it is true!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1176391980513443599-40330050735742638?l=wilberglife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wilberglife.blogspot.com/feeds/40330050735742638/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://wilberglife.blogspot.com/2010/11/why-do-i-have-to-go-to-church-on-sunday.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1176391980513443599/posts/default/40330050735742638'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1176391980513443599/posts/default/40330050735742638'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wilberglife.blogspot.com/2010/11/why-do-i-have-to-go-to-church-on-sunday.html' title='Why do I have To go to Church on Sunday?'/><author><name>Cristina Wilberg &amp;amp; Angela Cloward</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01767567047191010993</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oS24pbuJyZQ/TFmoP5WxznI/AAAAAAAAAmY/e4a0YRobARQ/S220/DSCN1925.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oS24pbuJyZQ/TNQxj-0hJxI/AAAAAAAAAtk/Jjhz3ITToY8/s72-c/thinking.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1176391980513443599.post-9026161287383091020</id><published>2010-10-18T01:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-18T01:28:53.479-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I Need You Because I love You...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: large;"&gt;"I Need You Because I love You! I don't love You because I need you."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oS24pbuJyZQ/TLv2LM5_v1I/AAAAAAAAAtU/eHh8KHoeM1k/s1600/girls-holding-hands-bw.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" ex="true" height="400" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oS24pbuJyZQ/TLv2LM5_v1I/AAAAAAAAAtU/eHh8KHoeM1k/s400/girls-holding-hands-bw.jpg" width="258" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;Few weeks ago, I watched a special show on PBS about "LOVE".&amp;nbsp;It was there&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;where I heard the phrase I posted on the top. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;It was a very interesting show to watch, it really opened my eyes and mind to alot things. That phrase, got me deep into my soul, and had me wondering about those that I truely&amp;nbsp;love for who they are and&amp;nbsp;not because I need them.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;The world today is full of those who loves someone because they have a need of them. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;Many claim to love someone, but all they are looking for is to benefit from that "love".&amp;nbsp; And I took a good&amp;nbsp;look at my self and asked&amp;nbsp;"Do I love them because I need something from them?" And a&amp;nbsp;bunch of people came to my mind, and every single one of them I need in my life because I love them dearly. And&amp;nbsp;those who makes me not feel like myself around them, it just does not work for me. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;But what hurts the most, is when we try to show to someone saying "look, I'm here because I love you" and then you relized that they don't love you in the same way, and you feel like your heart is going to brake in a thousand pieces... I know is never easy to go throught something like that but,&amp;nbsp;even to wait to have them love you back&amp;nbsp;is not true love because that's waiting for something in return.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;I am very, very greateful for having so many people who chosen to love me for who I am and not even ever question or made fun of my beliefs, my personality or whatever.&amp;nbsp;But they treat me, full of kindness and love and they are always willing to talk and listen. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;People of whom on a monthly,weekly even on a daily&amp;nbsp;basis leaves little notes, e-mails, phone calls to let me know that they are there... oh, how I love them! And How I need them because of that!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;It will always be hard to love those who don't love you the same way... but you know what? When they are ready, I will be here, because I love them.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;One very special man waited for me for 19 years, and to think he loved so deeply even thouhg I couldn't care less about him. But he was patient and loved me anyway and waited until I was ready to turn to him.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;Thank you Jesus! Thank you so much for loving me so patiently. Because in the end, when the whole world&amp;nbsp;has turn their back at you, He is going to be the only one with an open arms ready to hug you and to look deep in your eyes and say &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;"I LOVE YOU!" &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;All because He is the only one who will be perfect, when everybody else will have failded you.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_oS24pbuJyZQ/TLv_j2pTrQI/AAAAAAAAAtY/ZlPZKMjDPUQ/s1600/jesus-saves.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" ex="true" height="287" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_oS24pbuJyZQ/TLv_j2pTrQI/AAAAAAAAAtY/ZlPZKMjDPUQ/s400/jesus-saves.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1176391980513443599-9026161287383091020?l=wilberglife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wilberglife.blogspot.com/feeds/9026161287383091020/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://wilberglife.blogspot.com/2010/10/i-need-you-because-i-love-you.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1176391980513443599/posts/default/9026161287383091020'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1176391980513443599/posts/default/9026161287383091020'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wilberglife.blogspot.com/2010/10/i-need-you-because-i-love-you.html' title='I Need You Because I love You...'/><author><name>Cristina Wilberg &amp;amp; Angela Cloward</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01767567047191010993</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oS24pbuJyZQ/TFmoP5WxznI/AAAAAAAAAmY/e4a0YRobARQ/S220/DSCN1925.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oS24pbuJyZQ/TLv2LM5_v1I/AAAAAAAAAtU/eHh8KHoeM1k/s72-c/girls-holding-hands-bw.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1176391980513443599.post-154202001033433110</id><published>2010-08-28T13:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-28T13:42:29.303-07:00</updated><title type='text'>man.... what a busy week!</title><content type='html'>This has been a very crazy week! Today is our ward party, and this will be the first party&amp;nbsp;that my hubby and I are organizing for the church. 'Til now, things are running pretty smooth, we got a lot done and lots of fun planned for the party. But what was really cute (as I was getting the chicken ready to marinnete&amp;nbsp;last night), was to watch my hubby helping our little girl to make a poster about her self for school. It was soooo cute to see how involded he was, and how much wants&amp;nbsp;for the&amp;nbsp;poster to look good. That was my&amp;nbsp;*sight* moment of the day.&lt;br /&gt;Now, let's freaking finish organizing everything and take to the park!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1176391980513443599-154202001033433110?l=wilberglife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wilberglife.blogspot.com/feeds/154202001033433110/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://wilberglife.blogspot.com/2010/08/man-what-busy-week.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1176391980513443599/posts/default/154202001033433110'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1176391980513443599/posts/default/154202001033433110'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wilberglife.blogspot.com/2010/08/man-what-busy-week.html' title='man.... what a busy week!'/><author><name>Cristina Wilberg &amp;amp; Angela Cloward</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01767567047191010993</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oS24pbuJyZQ/TFmoP5WxznI/AAAAAAAAAmY/e4a0YRobARQ/S220/DSCN1925.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1176391980513443599.post-9123120619037961271</id><published>2010-07-16T18:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-16T18:03:46.695-07:00</updated><title type='text'>hum...</title><content type='html'>I don't know how to start, has been while since the last time&amp;nbsp;I've posted anything on&amp;nbsp; my "diarie" blog. But I got tell you this, the month of june was pretty hard for me... not the whole month of june, but just the sad, sad news that I heard from Brazil... I just can't believe that another dear friend has crossed the veil in the blooming youth of her life :'( I was still trying to recover my self from Brent's grandmother loss,&lt;em&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/em&gt;I don't think anyone knows how much was still hurting, but I still&amp;nbsp;do have a hard time thinking that grandma is no longer here, and to make things tough, my friend&amp;nbsp;Camila, went to the otherside to be reuinited with her sister Carine of whom I loved so dearly. I just can't believe that now, they are both gone :'(&lt;br /&gt;I know that Heavenly Father knows better, I know his plan is always, always perfect, and that everything happens for a reason. I do know that, and I do have a testimony about that too. But you know what? I'm human, and it's ok to hurt and to mourn the loss of someone dear to you. &lt;br /&gt;And then, another sad news hit me, a friend of my from Provo, lost her 5 month old baby... I cried for her loss, because I could only imagine what she was going through. I cried with the hope that if I mourn for her baby too, would bring her some relief to her sorrowfull heart. But you know what? I'm not&amp;nbsp;Christ. He is the only one who can do that for everyone, and I got to hold onto his hands, and let him hug me, and let him tell me "don't worry, everything is going to be ok, just trust me. You wont hurt very long, not either will them."&lt;br /&gt;I got to have faith! I got trust my Savior, my Creator. I got be strong!&lt;br /&gt;Life is precious, so so precious! I want to be ready when my time comes. I want to have the courage and the faith to know that whatever happens, that things will be all right. &lt;br /&gt;We all got to live life at it's fullest, don't waste your time with stupid things or complaining too much, because is not worth it. Tomorrow don't belong to us. Live today like there is no tomorrow, and life will be a lot better if we live IT and not just survive.&lt;br /&gt;"I'm the master of my fate, and the captain of my soul."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1176391980513443599-9123120619037961271?l=wilberglife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wilberglife.blogspot.com/feeds/9123120619037961271/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://wilberglife.blogspot.com/2010/07/hum.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1176391980513443599/posts/default/9123120619037961271'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1176391980513443599/posts/default/9123120619037961271'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wilberglife.blogspot.com/2010/07/hum.html' title='hum...'/><author><name>Cristina Wilberg &amp;amp; Angela Cloward</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01767567047191010993</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oS24pbuJyZQ/TFmoP5WxznI/AAAAAAAAAmY/e4a0YRobARQ/S220/DSCN1925.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1176391980513443599.post-8658954597073126242</id><published>2010-05-27T12:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-27T13:14:26.572-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I hate off days!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;In less than 24 hours I lost count of how many times I've hurt my self on accident. You know... off days were it seems like everything you do causes you get hurt, drop something because your hands feels like very slippery... I &lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;HATE OFF DAYS LIKE THAT!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oS24pbuJyZQ/S_7Hif5IgPI/AAAAAAAAAe4/FOlrRZdbaNA/s1600/12.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" gu="true" height="400" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oS24pbuJyZQ/S_7Hif5IgPI/AAAAAAAAAe4/FOlrRZdbaNA/s400/12.jpg" width="366" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;Here is a clue of what happen to me in less than 24 hours:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: blue;"&gt;1- I poked my finger under the nail on a pushing pin&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: blue;"&gt;2- I bumped my head on the pointing corner on my dvd player in the car&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: blue;"&gt;3- I poked my finger for the second time on another pushing pin... under another nail AGAIN!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: blue;"&gt;4- I bumped my arm pretty hard&amp;nbsp;on the corner of my bedroom door&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: blue;"&gt;5- I triped over one of my kid's toy and hurt my toe&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: blue;"&gt;6- I got a very bad cut on my leg when I was shaving&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: blue;"&gt;7- I cut my finger when I was opening a can of sienna sausages&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: blue;"&gt;8- I burned my self trying to get the food out of the oven&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: blue;"&gt;9- I bit my tongue because my baby bumped his head into my chin&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: blue;"&gt;10-I triped&amp;nbsp;going up stairs and I hurt my toe&amp;nbsp;AGAIN!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: blue;"&gt;11-I scratched my finger on the ciment trying to lift a couch into inside off the ground... man! that one hurt a lot!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color: blue;"&gt;12-I hurt my rist on a nail&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;All that, in just 24 hours! Are you kidding me???? Good thing nothing was so bad that I have to be sent to hospital or anything.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;&lt;div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"&gt;But I'm pretty sure we all have those &lt;span style="color: red;"&gt;OFF DAYS&lt;/span&gt; that we all hate.&amp;nbsp;&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/1176391980513443599-8658954597073126242?l=wilberglife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wilberglife.blogspot.com/feeds/8658954597073126242/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://wilberglife.blogspot.com/2010/05/i-hate-off-days.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1176391980513443599/posts/default/8658954597073126242'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1176391980513443599/posts/default/8658954597073126242'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wilberglife.blogspot.com/2010/05/i-hate-off-days.html' title='I hate off days!'/><author><name>Cristina Wilberg &amp;amp; Angela Cloward</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01767567047191010993</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oS24pbuJyZQ/TFmoP5WxznI/AAAAAAAAAmY/e4a0YRobARQ/S220/DSCN1925.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oS24pbuJyZQ/S_7Hif5IgPI/AAAAAAAAAe4/FOlrRZdbaNA/s72-c/12.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1176391980513443599.post-245698993960094221</id><published>2010-05-04T13:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-04T13:28:02.495-07:00</updated><title type='text'>True Love Song</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;embed align="middle" flashvars="cy=bb&amp;amp;il=1&amp;amp;channel=2810246167512915887&amp;amp;site=widget-af.slide.com" name="flashticker" quality="high" salign="l" scale="noscale" src="http://widget-af.slide.com/widgets/slideticker.swf" style="height: 320px; width: 400px;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left; width: 400px;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.slide.com/pivot?cy=bb&amp;amp;at=un&amp;amp;id=2810246167512915887&amp;amp;map=1" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img border="0" ismap="ismap" src="http://widget-af.slide.com/p1/2810246167512915887/bb_t011_v000_s0un_f00/images/xslide1.gif" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.slide.com/pivot?cy=bb&amp;amp;at=un&amp;amp;id=2810246167512915887&amp;amp;map=2" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img border="0" ismap="ismap" src="http://widget-af.slide.com/p2/2810246167512915887/bb_t011_v000_s0un_f00/images/xslide2.gif" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.slide.com/pivot?cy=bb&amp;amp;at=un&amp;amp;id=2810246167512915887&amp;amp;map=F" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img border="0" ismap="ismap" src="http://widget-af.slide.com/p4/2810246167512915887/bb_t011_v000_s0un_f00/images/xslide42.gif" /&gt;&lt;/a&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/1176391980513443599-245698993960094221?l=wilberglife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wilberglife.blogspot.com/feeds/245698993960094221/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://wilberglife.blogspot.com/2010/05/true-love-song.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1176391980513443599/posts/default/245698993960094221'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1176391980513443599/posts/default/245698993960094221'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wilberglife.blogspot.com/2010/05/true-love-song.html' title='True Love Song'/><author><name>Cristina Wilberg &amp;amp; Angela Cloward</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01767567047191010993</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oS24pbuJyZQ/TFmoP5WxznI/AAAAAAAAAmY/e4a0YRobARQ/S220/DSCN1925.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1176391980513443599.post-1355089027681212967</id><published>2010-04-06T13:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-06T13:45:07.290-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Favorite Lines...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_oS24pbuJyZQ/S7uVj1v8PsI/AAAAAAAAATg/svM-7U_dNFI/s1600/cinema.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5457119816445607618" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_oS24pbuJyZQ/S7uVj1v8PsI/AAAAAAAAATg/svM-7U_dNFI/s400/cinema.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I love movies and music.&lt;br /&gt;Here are some of my favorites lines:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;"the Wife- I wan to work at the factory.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;the Husband- Factory is no place for a woman!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;Wife- And to be on your butt all day is no place for a man either"&lt;br /&gt;(Angela Ashes)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;"Have you ever looked fear in the face and said -I just don't care"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;(Pink)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993300;"&gt;"You're my new master now, and I love you... SQUIRELL!!!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#993300;"&gt;(UP)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;"By marrying me, you just kissed yourself a princess"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;( The Princess and the Frog)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;"I rather hurt than feel nothing at all"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3333ff;"&gt;(Lady and tabellum)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;"Fool! don't you know that no man can't kill me?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Eowyn- I'm no man, I'm a woman!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;(The Lord of the rings)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc00;"&gt;"I'm sweating like a sinner in church"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ffcc00;"&gt;(The princess and the frog)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#00cccc;"&gt;"the problem in doing the right thing is that sometimes you're got stand all by yourself"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#00cccc;"&gt;(Alladin)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;"I rather die tomorrow because I met you, than live 100 years without knowing you"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#660000;"&gt;(Pocahontas)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;"He is no mosnter Gaston, you are!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;(Beauty and the Beast)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Patrick- did you see my underwear?&lt;br /&gt;Mermaid- No!&lt;br /&gt;Patrick- would you like to?"&lt;br /&gt;(Sponge Bob Movie)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are so many, I wish I could remember all of them.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1176391980513443599-1355089027681212967?l=wilberglife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wilberglife.blogspot.com/feeds/1355089027681212967/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://wilberglife.blogspot.com/2010/04/favorite-lines.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1176391980513443599/posts/default/1355089027681212967'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1176391980513443599/posts/default/1355089027681212967'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wilberglife.blogspot.com/2010/04/favorite-lines.html' title='Favorite Lines...'/><author><name>Cristina Wilberg &amp;amp; Angela Cloward</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01767567047191010993</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oS24pbuJyZQ/TFmoP5WxznI/AAAAAAAAAmY/e4a0YRobARQ/S220/DSCN1925.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_oS24pbuJyZQ/S7uVj1v8PsI/AAAAAAAAATg/svM-7U_dNFI/s72-c/cinema.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1176391980513443599.post-2844648858501076792</id><published>2010-03-15T14:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-15T15:31:57.828-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Can't keep my eyes off of you...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5448990998132623058" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_oS24pbuJyZQ/S560cVv_BtI/AAAAAAAAATQ/YAHsOm_4eRs/s400/68e593b5.jpg" /&gt;What day is it? And in what month?&lt;br /&gt;This clock never seemed so alive&lt;br /&gt;I can't keep up and I can't back down&lt;br /&gt;I've been losing so much time&lt;br /&gt;Cause it's you and me and all of the people&lt;br /&gt;with nothing to do, nothing to lose&lt;br /&gt;And it's you and me and all of the people and &lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;I don't know why I can't keep my eyes off of you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All of the things that I want to say&lt;br /&gt;Just don't coming out right&lt;br /&gt;I'm tripping on words,&lt;br /&gt;you got my head spinning&lt;br /&gt;I don't know where to go from here&lt;br /&gt;Cause it's you and me and all of the people&lt;br /&gt;with nothing to do, nothing to lose&lt;br /&gt;And it's you and me and all of the people and&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;I don't know why I can't keep my eyes off of you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 307px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5448988290342909074" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_oS24pbuJyZQ/S56x-ucm9JI/AAAAAAAAATI/H5bE59cIOks/s400/f_mangasetsumm_cafdb78.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#999900;"&gt;There's something about you now&lt;br /&gt;I can't quite figure out&lt;br /&gt;Everything he does is beautiful&lt;br /&gt;Everything he does is right&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Cause it's you and me and all of the people&lt;br /&gt;with nothing to do, nothing to lose&lt;br /&gt;And it's you and me and all of the people and&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;I don't know why I can't keep my eyes off of&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;You and me and all of the people&lt;br /&gt;with nothing to do, nothing to prove&lt;br /&gt;And it's you and me and all of the people and&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;I don't know why I can't keep my eyes off of you &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5448988285531413586" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oS24pbuJyZQ/S56x-chdXFI/AAAAAAAAATA/bW2M2HVTyc0/s400/AnimeCouples15.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;What day is it?&lt;br /&gt;And in what month?&lt;br /&gt;This clock never seemed so alive... &lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 247px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5448988276641311570" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_oS24pbuJyZQ/S56x97Z5K1I/AAAAAAAAAS4/xyj06I-ld4s/s400/1294f41cd3cb60_full.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/div&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/1176391980513443599-2844648858501076792?l=wilberglife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wilberglife.blogspot.com/feeds/2844648858501076792/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://wilberglife.blogspot.com/2010/03/cant-keep-my-eyes-off-of-you.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1176391980513443599/posts/default/2844648858501076792'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1176391980513443599/posts/default/2844648858501076792'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wilberglife.blogspot.com/2010/03/cant-keep-my-eyes-off-of-you.html' title='Can&apos;t keep my eyes off of you...'/><author><name>Cristina Wilberg &amp;amp; Angela Cloward</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01767567047191010993</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oS24pbuJyZQ/TFmoP5WxznI/AAAAAAAAAmY/e4a0YRobARQ/S220/DSCN1925.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_oS24pbuJyZQ/S560cVv_BtI/AAAAAAAAATQ/YAHsOm_4eRs/s72-c/68e593b5.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1176391980513443599.post-1362433074709873266</id><published>2010-03-15T14:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-15T14:51:22.172-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dUi2gbhP_mU'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1176391980513443599-1362433074709873266?l=wilberglife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wilberglife.blogspot.com/feeds/1362433074709873266/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://wilberglife.blogspot.com/2010/03/blog-post.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1176391980513443599/posts/default/1362433074709873266'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1176391980513443599/posts/default/1362433074709873266'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wilberglife.blogspot.com/2010/03/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>Cristina Wilberg &amp;amp; Angela Cloward</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01767567047191010993</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oS24pbuJyZQ/TFmoP5WxznI/AAAAAAAAAmY/e4a0YRobARQ/S220/DSCN1925.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1176391980513443599.post-214953911016994828</id><published>2010-03-09T14:44:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-15T14:50:52.407-07:00</updated><title type='text'>...Tired</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oS24pbuJyZQ/S5bPmzdiIqI/AAAAAAAAASo/CLDry6bX6HA/s1600-h/ant-parade-by-kei-acedera-bobby-chiu.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 221px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5446769064907252386" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oS24pbuJyZQ/S5bPmzdiIqI/AAAAAAAAASo/CLDry6bX6HA/s400/ant-parade-by-kei-acedera-bobby-chiu.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Tired??? Good! That means you made your day worth living.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;And that is awsome!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1176391980513443599-214953911016994828?l=wilberglife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wilberglife.blogspot.com/feeds/214953911016994828/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://wilberglife.blogspot.com/2010/03/tired.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1176391980513443599/posts/default/214953911016994828'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1176391980513443599/posts/default/214953911016994828'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wilberglife.blogspot.com/2010/03/tired.html' title='...Tired'/><author><name>Cristina Wilberg &amp;amp; Angela Cloward</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01767567047191010993</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oS24pbuJyZQ/TFmoP5WxznI/AAAAAAAAAmY/e4a0YRobARQ/S220/DSCN1925.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oS24pbuJyZQ/S5bPmzdiIqI/AAAAAAAAASo/CLDry6bX6HA/s72-c/ant-parade-by-kei-acedera-bobby-chiu.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1176391980513443599.post-5872002338890625198</id><published>2010-03-06T12:01:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-08T10:44:27.872-08:00</updated><title type='text'>saudades... missing...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oS24pbuJyZQ/S5VEfjO6yVI/AAAAAAAAASg/lnZpvw5eedw/s1600-h/DSCN0005.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5446334633198930258" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oS24pbuJyZQ/S5VEfjO6yVI/AAAAAAAAASg/lnZpvw5eedw/s400/DSCN0005.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oS24pbuJyZQ/S5K0zhYLqTI/AAAAAAAAASY/9Gdnnzv7sqc/s1600-h/DSCN0005.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Missing... someone who is gone...&lt;br /&gt;Missing someone who is still the same...&lt;br /&gt;Missing someone who has change so much...&lt;br /&gt;Out of the three, I'll keep the one who's gone and the one who's still the same.&lt;br /&gt;The one who changed so much, I no longer know you...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saudades... de alguem que ja se foi...&lt;br /&gt;Saudades de alguem que continua a ser a mesma pessoa...&lt;br /&gt;Saudades de alguem que mudou demais...&lt;br /&gt;Das tres, prefiro guardar a que se foi e a que e' a mesma&lt;br /&gt;A que mudou demais, para mim, ja nao conheco mais.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1176391980513443599-5872002338890625198?l=wilberglife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wilberglife.blogspot.com/feeds/5872002338890625198/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://wilberglife.blogspot.com/2010/03/saudades.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1176391980513443599/posts/default/5872002338890625198'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1176391980513443599/posts/default/5872002338890625198'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wilberglife.blogspot.com/2010/03/saudades.html' title='saudades... missing...'/><author><name>Cristina Wilberg &amp;amp; Angela Cloward</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01767567047191010993</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oS24pbuJyZQ/TFmoP5WxznI/AAAAAAAAAmY/e4a0YRobARQ/S220/DSCN1925.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oS24pbuJyZQ/S5VEfjO6yVI/AAAAAAAAASg/lnZpvw5eedw/s72-c/DSCN0005.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1176391980513443599.post-2819321999691920315</id><published>2010-03-04T10:23:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-04T10:42:03.899-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Spring</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oS24pbuJyZQ/S4_-8C7MBNI/AAAAAAAAASQ/7IS7l7k4jdU/s1600-h/2the_fairies_vale.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 246px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5444850782044947666" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oS24pbuJyZQ/S4_-8C7MBNI/AAAAAAAAASQ/7IS7l7k4jdU/s320/2the_fairies_vale.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oS24pbuJyZQ/S4_62bhkrjI/AAAAAAAAASA/K9XpkEypy50/s1600-h/2the_fairies_vale.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;It wont be too long now, and she will be here as beautiful a she always have been....&lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;Spring&lt;/span&gt;! And with her comes the beauty of blooming flowers, and with them comes the beauty and life of&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt; WOMEN&lt;/span&gt; wearing beautiful colorful dresses, delicate sandals, flowers on their hair and smiles like sunshine. The beauty of a feminine being is soft and gentle as a butterfly... no wonder why so many of us ladies are so in love with them. Our Father in Heaven is all about beauty. Look around you, am I right? Look how He has dressed this earth so we could live in it and be happy... be beautiful. And we, ladies just give that little touch to this heaven work of art to enhance the beauty he created for us, and all we can do is just smile a little more, be happy to be alive and be feminine that way Father in Heaven have meant for you to be. You are a WOMAN! And be very proud of that.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5444850270821450562" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oS24pbuJyZQ/S4_-eSeAg0I/AAAAAAAAASI/IaLr_D1YXVw/s320/2shaiya_light-bf-by-kjun.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&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/1176391980513443599-2819321999691920315?l=wilberglife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wilberglife.blogspot.com/feeds/2819321999691920315/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://wilberglife.blogspot.com/2010/03/spring.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1176391980513443599/posts/default/2819321999691920315'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1176391980513443599/posts/default/2819321999691920315'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wilberglife.blogspot.com/2010/03/spring.html' title='Spring'/><author><name>Cristina Wilberg &amp;amp; Angela Cloward</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01767567047191010993</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oS24pbuJyZQ/TFmoP5WxznI/AAAAAAAAAmY/e4a0YRobARQ/S220/DSCN1925.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oS24pbuJyZQ/S4_-8C7MBNI/AAAAAAAAASQ/7IS7l7k4jdU/s72-c/2the_fairies_vale.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1176391980513443599.post-2276916009987949386</id><published>2010-02-28T18:33:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-28T18:56:18.361-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Fairies...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oS24pbuJyZQ/S4socbtP4EI/AAAAAAAAAR4/I_lTTcwYXpg/s1600-h/2fairy_portrait_by_chris10.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5443489043546366018" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oS24pbuJyZQ/S4socbtP4EI/AAAAAAAAAR4/I_lTTcwYXpg/s320/2fairy_portrait_by_chris10.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt; Did you ever wondered about&lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt; Fairies&lt;/span&gt;? I have. Not the way you're thinking right now. I wonder on why they were created by the human mind?&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 226px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5443488524605124258" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oS24pbuJyZQ/S4sn-OgA7qI/AAAAAAAAARw/zAaFDX0R5NU/s320/4snowflake_fairy_by_ironshod.jpg" /&gt;I bet you they weren't created by a &lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;guy &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;(I may be wrong)...&lt;/span&gt; but by a&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt; woman's mind&lt;/span&gt;. When I look at a picture of fairy, all I see is what is in the woman's heart. Look at her... &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;she's beautiful, gracious, delicate and so lovely, like a feminine being is supose to be.&lt;/span&gt; But one wonderful thing about fairies is that they can grant you wishes... How many of us ladies, don't wish to have that power huh? We do have a little, but how wonderful it would be to have &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;ALL&lt;/span&gt; our wishes granted, it doesn't hurt to dream. :)&lt;br /&gt;And like a fairy, woman is a perfect work of art, the crown of the Lord's creations, did you ever thought about that? We, women, were like the last stroke of paint in a work of art, when our Lord created Eve, He looked at the creation and said " that's perfect! Don't touch it! Now is perfect and beautiful".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;Never forget that, you are beautiful for who you are, all because you've been born a woman, a precious, lovely and delicate daughter of God.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1176391980513443599-2276916009987949386?l=wilberglife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wilberglife.blogspot.com/feeds/2276916009987949386/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://wilberglife.blogspot.com/2010/02/fairies.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1176391980513443599/posts/default/2276916009987949386'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1176391980513443599/posts/default/2276916009987949386'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wilberglife.blogspot.com/2010/02/fairies.html' title='Fairies...'/><author><name>Cristina Wilberg &amp;amp; Angela Cloward</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01767567047191010993</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oS24pbuJyZQ/TFmoP5WxznI/AAAAAAAAAmY/e4a0YRobARQ/S220/DSCN1925.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oS24pbuJyZQ/S4socbtP4EI/AAAAAAAAAR4/I_lTTcwYXpg/s72-c/2fairy_portrait_by_chris10.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1176391980513443599.post-4879043090350366080</id><published>2010-02-27T09:37:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-27T10:10:33.791-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Bad...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oS24pbuJyZQ/S4laWsq5BNI/AAAAAAAAARo/-7NOGOZNHFw/s1600-h/malvada.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 286px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5442980970648634578" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oS24pbuJyZQ/S4laWsq5BNI/AAAAAAAAARo/-7NOGOZNHFw/s320/malvada.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;In one of those moods...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Is really worth to write anything in here?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;You know what? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I need to do it for me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Screw the world missy!!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1176391980513443599-4879043090350366080?l=wilberglife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wilberglife.blogspot.com/feeds/4879043090350366080/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://wilberglife.blogspot.com/2010/02/bad.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1176391980513443599/posts/default/4879043090350366080'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1176391980513443599/posts/default/4879043090350366080'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wilberglife.blogspot.com/2010/02/bad.html' title='Bad...'/><author><name>Cristina Wilberg &amp;amp; Angela Cloward</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01767567047191010993</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oS24pbuJyZQ/TFmoP5WxznI/AAAAAAAAAmY/e4a0YRobARQ/S220/DSCN1925.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oS24pbuJyZQ/S4laWsq5BNI/AAAAAAAAARo/-7NOGOZNHFw/s72-c/malvada.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1176391980513443599.post-1312546320280366362</id><published>2010-02-26T09:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-26T09:56:25.232-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Forgiveness...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oS24pbuJyZQ/S4gDSQmrBqI/AAAAAAAAARg/0jxQyEpdDzY/s1600-h/Hug-1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 215px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5442603761906943650" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oS24pbuJyZQ/S4gDSQmrBqI/AAAAAAAAARg/0jxQyEpdDzY/s320/Hug-1.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oS24pbuJyZQ/S4gDE8e5fqI/AAAAAAAAARQ/96idGyBrnqo/s1600-h/hug.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 254px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5442603533167328930" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oS24pbuJyZQ/S4gDE8e5fqI/AAAAAAAAARQ/96idGyBrnqo/s320/hug.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; WOW! That's tough...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Leting go painful memories of the past is not easy at all. Sometimes they just come out of the blue because they been treager by something someone said or something someone did. Your heart fills with fears and doubts that things will ever gone be ok. Some of us has been called " you're fat!" "you're so ugly!" "you're a loser!" "you're dumb!". Some of us been called of these things from people we really loved and who were close to us. And some of us don't want anything to do with those people anymore. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Some of the people who hurt me in the past, happily they don't have that power on me no longer. But all depends on how much will I allowed the memories to hurt me, how much will I let them control my life. That's why the Savior is there, with his open piercided hands asking me "please, let me have those memories Cristina, let me take them way from you, so they wont hurt you anymore." And as soon I do that, I feel so happy and much better. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It's war out there. Painful memories of the past are made constatly. That's why we live the present so we may have a past.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;There will be mean, selfish, unconsiderant people out there, people who may be really close to you who will keep doing and saying stupid things that may hurt you. But the Savior will never leave until you give to him all the pain and bad feelings that bothers you.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Is not easy to think of something positive about someone like that huh? But if you can't think, leave it alone, is just better not think about at all for a moment.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have to remind my self over and over again "I got the control here! Will not let that ruin my day!"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Smile! you got the power and the free will to do anything you want!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"He got the power to bruise your heel, but you got the power to crush his head"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&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/1176391980513443599-1312546320280366362?l=wilberglife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wilberglife.blogspot.com/feeds/1312546320280366362/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://wilberglife.blogspot.com/2010/02/forgiveness.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1176391980513443599/posts/default/1312546320280366362'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1176391980513443599/posts/default/1312546320280366362'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wilberglife.blogspot.com/2010/02/forgiveness.html' title='Forgiveness...'/><author><name>Cristina Wilberg &amp;amp; Angela Cloward</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01767567047191010993</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oS24pbuJyZQ/TFmoP5WxznI/AAAAAAAAAmY/e4a0YRobARQ/S220/DSCN1925.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oS24pbuJyZQ/S4gDSQmrBqI/AAAAAAAAARg/0jxQyEpdDzY/s72-c/Hug-1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1176391980513443599.post-4965170891057569961</id><published>2010-02-24T11:20:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-24T11:51:56.288-08:00</updated><title type='text'>grown up?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oS24pbuJyZQ/S4V9J047WYI/AAAAAAAAAQw/va2WOXFqKEA/s1600-h/futuro.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 273px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5441893332516821378" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oS24pbuJyZQ/S4V9J047WYI/AAAAAAAAAQw/va2WOXFqKEA/s320/futuro.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I was watching a Bruce Willy's movie called "The Kid", and that movie really touch me and made me wonder about my self kid. We all have one inside us, wether you want or not. We all were a kid one time in our lives, and some of us never lost the little kid. I didn't.&lt;br /&gt;But that movie really got me to think, if I could go back in time as a adult to meet my self as a little girl, what would I tell her? What would I do? When would I like to come back? Because that would be very important to think of a specific situation that I would like to protect her from, you know? This is hard... because my little girl went throught soooo many heart aches...so many... And the poor thing did grow up believing she was never pretty enough, she was so hurt... she felt alone several times, she felt that no one loved her, that she would grow up to be a loser...&lt;br /&gt;But wait a minute! I can go back there! Of course I can!!! I'll go there and give her a real big hug. I'll look deep in her yes and tell her "don't cry pretty girl, this suffering and pain wont last for very long. One day you will know the most wondeful feeling of love that is out there. You will meet a very, very special guy, the prince of your dreams. Oh my gosh! He will be so sweet and kind to you, he will love you no matter what! And he let you know how beautiful you really are, and how proud he is to have you in his life, and because of him you will be no loser at all, but a winner!" I can already see, she looking at me and wondering with a smile "who is he? Can you tell me?" And I'll smile back at her and say "He's really wonderful, and he will love you with all the strength of his heart, he will love the way talk, the way you laugh, he will always be ready to listen to you when you need someone to talk to. He will make your dreams come true, and his name is Jesus Christ". And then, I'll give her a real big hug and tell her how much I love her and that I'm very proud of her and that she wont hurt for very long anymore, all because her perfect guy will help her heal from all the pain and suffering that she went through. I'll thank her too and let her know that if wasn't for her, I would not be who I'm today. I'll tell her goodbye with a hug a and a kiss, let her be sure that she will find true happiness someday, and that's why I was there to let her know that.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1176391980513443599-4965170891057569961?l=wilberglife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wilberglife.blogspot.com/feeds/4965170891057569961/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://wilberglife.blogspot.com/2010/02/grown-up.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1176391980513443599/posts/default/4965170891057569961'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1176391980513443599/posts/default/4965170891057569961'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wilberglife.blogspot.com/2010/02/grown-up.html' title='grown up?'/><author><name>Cristina Wilberg &amp;amp; Angela Cloward</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01767567047191010993</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oS24pbuJyZQ/TFmoP5WxznI/AAAAAAAAAmY/e4a0YRobARQ/S220/DSCN1925.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oS24pbuJyZQ/S4V9J047WYI/AAAAAAAAAQw/va2WOXFqKEA/s72-c/futuro.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1176391980513443599.post-8663827638949222888</id><published>2010-02-20T06:10:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-20T06:29:06.058-08:00</updated><title type='text'>If I could be...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oS24pbuJyZQ/S3_vFpnS58I/AAAAAAAAAQo/Kgh8z8tUG30/s1600-h/3fe8d73fff696e2a4c84872d1b1ab5b5314456ff.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5440329755235903426" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oS24pbuJyZQ/S3_vFpnS58I/AAAAAAAAAQo/Kgh8z8tUG30/s320/3fe8d73fff696e2a4c84872d1b1ab5b5314456ff.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; *If I could be a pet... I would like to be a kitty&lt;br /&gt;*If I could be a juice... I would like to be passion fruit&lt;br /&gt;*If I could be a day... I would like to be the sunset&lt;br /&gt;*If I could be a toy... I would like to be a Barbie :)&lt;br /&gt;*If I could be an object... I would like to be a very expensive furniture&lt;br /&gt;*If I could be a song... I would like to be all the love songs out there&lt;br /&gt;*If I could be a food... I would not like to be fat free.&lt;br /&gt;*If I could be a country... I would be Brazil of course, you knew that huh?&lt;br /&gt;*If I could be a word... I would like to be "gratitude"&lt;br /&gt;*If I could be me... I would like to be fearless.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1176391980513443599-8663827638949222888?l=wilberglife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wilberglife.blogspot.com/feeds/8663827638949222888/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://wilberglife.blogspot.com/2010/02/if-i-could-be.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1176391980513443599/posts/default/8663827638949222888'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1176391980513443599/posts/default/8663827638949222888'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wilberglife.blogspot.com/2010/02/if-i-could-be.html' title='If I could be...'/><author><name>Cristina Wilberg &amp;amp; Angela Cloward</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01767567047191010993</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oS24pbuJyZQ/TFmoP5WxznI/AAAAAAAAAmY/e4a0YRobARQ/S220/DSCN1925.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oS24pbuJyZQ/S3_vFpnS58I/AAAAAAAAAQo/Kgh8z8tUG30/s72-c/3fe8d73fff696e2a4c84872d1b1ab5b5314456ff.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1176391980513443599.post-5447767705486643449</id><published>2010-01-18T13:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-18T14:49:42.011-08:00</updated><title type='text'>sound track...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oS24pbuJyZQ/S1Tcv_nauOI/AAAAAAAAAQg/I_zPrtehXlM/s1600-h/DSCN072.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5428206167977015522" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oS24pbuJyZQ/S1Tcv_nauOI/AAAAAAAAAQg/I_zPrtehXlM/s320/DSCN072.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I love music. Through music I can express my feelings very well. Fellings like:Happiness, angry, frustrations, hard day, love, sorry, feelling hot, feelling "I'll show you!", felling foolish, depressed, excited, etc...&lt;br /&gt;Here are some of my total favorites:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;My Frustration song&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;My eyes are open wide&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And by the way, I made througt the day&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Tell my mother, tell my father I've done the best I can&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;To make them realize, this is my life, I hope they'll understand&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm not angry, I'm just saying.... sometimes goodbye is a socond chance(Second Chance by &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Shinedown&lt;/span&gt;)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;My "I'll show you!" song&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;So, so what I'm still a rock star&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I got my rock moves and don't need you&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And guess what &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm having more fun&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;now that we're done&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm going to show you tonight&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm alright, I'm fine and you're a tool&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So, so what I'm a rock star&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I got my rock moves and I don't want you!!!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;(So What by &lt;/span&gt;Pink&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#990000;"&gt;My feelling foolish song&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;But I can't help if I'm just a fool&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Always having my heart set on you&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;'Til the time you start chaging the rules&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'll keep chansing the sole of your shoes...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;aahhhh fool!!!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;(Fool by &lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;Shakira&lt;/span&gt;)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#009900;"&gt;My feelling sorry song&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;I forgot to say at loud&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;How beautiful you really are to me...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;(Don't leave me by &lt;span style="color:#ff6666;"&gt;Pink&lt;/span&gt;)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;My I'm in love with Brent song&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;So I find the reason to shave my legs&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Each single morning&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So I count on someone on fridays nights&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;To take me dacing again&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;To church on saundays&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;To plant more trees&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And someday think of kids&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Or maybe just to save a little money&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;You're the one I need&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The way back home is always long&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But if you close to me I'm holding on&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;You're the one I need&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My real life has just begun&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Because there is nothing like your smile made of sun...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;(The One by &lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;Shakira&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;and now&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff6600;"&gt;My HOT Husband song&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Lucky you were born that farway &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;So we can both make fun of distance&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Lucky that I love a foreing land for&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;The lucky fact of your existence&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Baby, I would climb the Andes lonely&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;To count the freckles on your body&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Never could imagine there were only&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Ten million ways to love somebody...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;Can't you see...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;I am at you feet!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;(by &lt;span style="color:#6600cc;"&gt;Shakira&lt;/span&gt;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1176391980513443599-5447767705486643449?l=wilberglife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wilberglife.blogspot.com/feeds/5447767705486643449/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://wilberglife.blogspot.com/2010/01/sound-track.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1176391980513443599/posts/default/5447767705486643449'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1176391980513443599/posts/default/5447767705486643449'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wilberglife.blogspot.com/2010/01/sound-track.html' title='sound track...'/><author><name>Cristina Wilberg &amp;amp; Angela Cloward</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01767567047191010993</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oS24pbuJyZQ/TFmoP5WxznI/AAAAAAAAAmY/e4a0YRobARQ/S220/DSCN1925.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oS24pbuJyZQ/S1Tcv_nauOI/AAAAAAAAAQg/I_zPrtehXlM/s72-c/DSCN072.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1176391980513443599.post-5804668622646637452</id><published>2009-12-22T12:06:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-22T12:35:35.580-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Dear Santa...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oS24pbuJyZQ/SzEo-Wxnt8I/AAAAAAAAAQY/rtVJ1WJp_2c/s1600-h/DSCN0331.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5418156878434121666" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oS24pbuJyZQ/SzEo-Wxnt8I/AAAAAAAAAQY/rtVJ1WJp_2c/s320/DSCN0331.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_oS24pbuJyZQ/SzEnFiY3ReI/AAAAAAAAAQQ/lo8aQeV8Rtk/s1600-h/DSCN0331.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Hi Santa! How are you? My mother thaugt me that is always polite to start a letter by asking the person how they are doing. You see, that's a good girl thing.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This was a very good year, I try really hard to be a good girl, but another bad girl call the police on me, I hope that don't ruine things for me and please... don't send me to the naughty list because of that :( &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;With this letter I'm sending you a picture of my christmas tree, my children decide that the tree had not enough ornaments, so they put some extra effort to make our tree really stand out. Did you like it? :)&lt;/div&gt;Well, I would like to say that you have been very kind to me for the pass few years, you gave me my fairy tale prince like always dreamed of... but my goodness Santa, he is so handsome! I never get tired to look at those beautiful blue eyes of his, and his smile oh boy! Very, very nice santa. But beacuse you gave a such great gift, I got very jelous, I don't like to share him with anybody, and if anyone, specially girls, try to even look at my gift, things can get really ugly. I know that's not nice, but I WONT SHARE! It's my!!! And thank so much for sending him all the way down to Brazil, It's amazing that you found me there santa.&lt;br /&gt;Ok, I am really grateful for the wonderful gifts you  gave me on the passing 5 years. I loveeeee every single one of them! I don't know if you can do this, but if could, can you keep them at this age? I don't want them to ever, ever grow up, it's a very scary world out there, I would like to be able to protect them forever... I know this is a hard wish, but please, would you try? I love them too much to have them hurt by this cruel, cruel world full of mean people.&lt;br /&gt;Just few more things, now that I have everything I ever wanted, there just silly things that i would like for christmas this year, I want to sound selfish but please could you take a look over my little list and see each one of this gifts can you afford?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;yamaha guitar&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;calvin klein "secret obssession" perfume&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;$20&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;a pro Nikon Camera&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;photography class&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;p&gt;Thanks santa!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Merry christmas to you!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Love,&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Cris Wilberg&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1176391980513443599-5804668622646637452?l=wilberglife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wilberglife.blogspot.com/feeds/5804668622646637452/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://wilberglife.blogspot.com/2009/12/dear-santa.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1176391980513443599/posts/default/5804668622646637452'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1176391980513443599/posts/default/5804668622646637452'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wilberglife.blogspot.com/2009/12/dear-santa.html' title='Dear Santa...'/><author><name>Cristina Wilberg &amp;amp; Angela Cloward</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01767567047191010993</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oS24pbuJyZQ/TFmoP5WxznI/AAAAAAAAAmY/e4a0YRobARQ/S220/DSCN1925.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oS24pbuJyZQ/SzEo-Wxnt8I/AAAAAAAAAQY/rtVJ1WJp_2c/s72-c/DSCN0331.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1176391980513443599.post-3864162497503726148</id><published>2009-12-16T13:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-16T14:12:47.900-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I like and don't like...</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oS24pbuJyZQ/SylVVY8S84I/AAAAAAAAAQI/td4vF_o5fII/s1600-h/DSCN0319.JPG"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5415953852850697090" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 239px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oS24pbuJyZQ/SylVVY8S84I/AAAAAAAAAQI/td4vF_o5fII/s320/DSCN0319.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I like to sleep at the sound of rain falling on my roof :)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I don't like frogs, spiders, snakes... :(&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#00cccc;"&gt;I like butterflies :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#000000;"&gt;I don't like satan&gt;:(&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ff6666;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I like my husband's smell :)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I don't like red lip stick :(&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffcc66;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I like when my mom spoils me :)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I don't like rudeness... I HATE THAT! :(&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I like good food :)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I don't like to look ugly :(&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I like a very clean house :)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I don't like desorganization :(&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I like to sleep on my hubby's chest :)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I don't like having people yelling at me, if they do, they are going to get it!!! :(&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I like to play games :)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I don't like people mistreating my children or anyone I love :(&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#993399;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I like my in-laws :)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I don't like cold weather :(&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffcc33;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I like paiting...I LOVE PAITING :)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I don't like avocado :(&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I like blogging :)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I don't like staying at hospitals :(&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#660000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I like going out with family and friends :)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I don't like the dark :(&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ffcc00;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I like weekends :)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I don't like mondays :(&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#33cc00;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I like the smell of my country, Brazil :)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I don't like feeling bored :(&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#cc33cc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I like driving my car :)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I don't like grumpy people :(&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#6666cc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I like to talk... a lot! :)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I don't like being late :(&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;color:#ff6600;"&gt;I like my children's smiles :D&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;I don't like when they get sick&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;color:#ff6666;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I like what I like :) :0)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I don't like what I don't like &gt;:(&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1176391980513443599-3864162497503726148?l=wilberglife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wilberglife.blogspot.com/feeds/3864162497503726148/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://wilberglife.blogspot.com/2009/12/i-like-and-dont-like.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1176391980513443599/posts/default/3864162497503726148'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1176391980513443599/posts/default/3864162497503726148'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wilberglife.blogspot.com/2009/12/i-like-and-dont-like.html' title='I like and don&apos;t like...'/><author><name>Cristina Wilberg &amp;amp; Angela Cloward</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01767567047191010993</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oS24pbuJyZQ/TFmoP5WxznI/AAAAAAAAAmY/e4a0YRobARQ/S220/DSCN1925.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oS24pbuJyZQ/SylVVY8S84I/AAAAAAAAAQI/td4vF_o5fII/s72-c/DSCN0319.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1176391980513443599.post-611291539998761068</id><published>2009-12-15T11:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-16T10:31:32.650-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Losing track...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oS24pbuJyZQ/SyfiNZFlf8I/AAAAAAAAAQA/g3YUn_SEEv0/s1600-h/SD535206.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5415545796636803010" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oS24pbuJyZQ/SyfiNZFlf8I/AAAAAAAAAQA/g3YUn_SEEv0/s320/SD535206.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt; Is funny how easy is for me to lose track of my thoughts, specially when I am driving alone.&lt;br /&gt;Here is an exemple:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:130%;color:#ff6666;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I can't forget to buy more tape, wrapping paper, and... 35 miles per hour, go your idiot! This is 40 miles per hour road!!!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I need to start my laudry, I'm almost out of... Ghost Wispper is tonight!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:130%;color:#ff6666;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Seriously, I really need to stop... payless is having a sale? Cool! I am going... that is one cute dog.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;That movie was so funny specially that part were... is very cold today. I am so glad I have my coat on.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:130%;color:#ff6666;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Those christmas light are so pretty, I love this time of... crap! I forgot to buy more diepers!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;biomat... biomat... were is that building? The GPS shows I am almost... umm, I need lip stick.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:130%;color:#ff6666;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Look at my hands, they are so dry and... What should I make for dinner tonight?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;And that how it goes every day, every time... What can I do? I am only human just like you.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1176391980513443599-611291539998761068?l=wilberglife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wilberglife.blogspot.com/feeds/611291539998761068/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://wilberglife.blogspot.com/2009/12/losing-track.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1176391980513443599/posts/default/611291539998761068'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1176391980513443599/posts/default/611291539998761068'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wilberglife.blogspot.com/2009/12/losing-track.html' title='Losing track...'/><author><name>Cristina Wilberg &amp;amp; Angela Cloward</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01767567047191010993</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oS24pbuJyZQ/TFmoP5WxznI/AAAAAAAAAmY/e4a0YRobARQ/S220/DSCN1925.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oS24pbuJyZQ/SyfiNZFlf8I/AAAAAAAAAQA/g3YUn_SEEv0/s72-c/SD535206.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1176391980513443599.post-5111295234144615145</id><published>2009-12-10T13:27:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-10T14:21:38.032-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I love...</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5413722686691619810" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oS24pbuJyZQ/SyFoGbS6M-I/AAAAAAAAAP4/apISBCjBTEU/s320/DSCN0322.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;I love hugs and kisses&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I love hot cocoa on a cold day&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I love playing guitar... oh how I love playing that instrument... &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I love taking pitures of what it seens to me to be a perfect moment&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I love creating those moments&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I love being artistic, I've been like this since I was a little girl&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I love my mother, she has always suportted my silly dreams&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I love my children, I wish they never grow up...&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I love my Handsome husband... He is really hot! :)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I love my friends... I am so blessed to have so many&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I love making new friends&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I love my religion, I know is true, the only true one on the earth&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I love being the only me, I don't think it would be good to have two "me" on the planet&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I love feeling loved&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I love having siblings&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I love to read good book&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I love the Relief Society&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I love my country Brazil&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I love being brazilian, I am so proud of it!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I love my Savior&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I love shopping!!!!!!!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I love shoessss&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I love to look nice, even if I am not going anywere&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I love feeling like a little girl sometimes&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I love photography, I think that's very obvious&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I love to love someone&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I love chating with people&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I love to sing even if I am not good as Shakira is&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I love Shakira LOL&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I love rock music!!!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I love Guitar Hero!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I love video games&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I love playing with my children&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I love being silly&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I love to make people laugh&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I love being responsible, I know I am not always that way, but that's why I love when I am&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I love my self&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I love navegating the internet&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I love Orkut&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I love hand bags&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I love my brazilian family&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I love my ward&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I love my neighborhood&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I love Facebook&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I love LOL very much&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I love birds&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I love nature&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I love pets, specially cats...so cute!!!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I love people who respect each other feelings&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I love my new coat&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I love my new hair cut&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I love more than anything, to live one day at the time...&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1176391980513443599-5111295234144615145?l=wilberglife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wilberglife.blogspot.com/feeds/5111295234144615145/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://wilberglife.blogspot.com/2009/12/i-love.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1176391980513443599/posts/default/5111295234144615145'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1176391980513443599/posts/default/5111295234144615145'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wilberglife.blogspot.com/2009/12/i-love.html' title='I love...'/><author><name>Cristina Wilberg &amp;amp; Angela Cloward</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01767567047191010993</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oS24pbuJyZQ/TFmoP5WxznI/AAAAAAAAAmY/e4a0YRobARQ/S220/DSCN1925.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oS24pbuJyZQ/SyFoGbS6M-I/AAAAAAAAAP4/apISBCjBTEU/s72-c/DSCN0322.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1176391980513443599.post-238850211348140486</id><published>2009-12-05T09:10:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-05T09:12:52.310-08:00</updated><title type='text'>my photo art</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_oS24pbuJyZQ/SxqUeJYQiVI/AAAAAAAAAPw/5eloNLNsMgg/s1600-h/DSCN0239.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5411801147873724754" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_oS24pbuJyZQ/SxqUeJYQiVI/AAAAAAAAAPw/5eloNLNsMgg/s320/DSCN0239.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_oS24pbuJyZQ/SxqUd9nxt8I/AAAAAAAAAPo/hW_h-8eiqKs/s1600-h/DSCN0277.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5411801144717588418" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_oS24pbuJyZQ/SxqUd9nxt8I/AAAAAAAAAPo/hW_h-8eiqKs/s320/DSCN0277.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oS24pbuJyZQ/SxqUdisp38I/AAAAAAAAAPg/aRF54WhclbA/s1600-h/DSCN0275.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5411801137490288578" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oS24pbuJyZQ/SxqUdisp38I/AAAAAAAAAPg/aRF54WhclbA/s320/DSCN0275.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oS24pbuJyZQ/SxqUdJjdFnI/AAAAAAAAAPY/Dt6Z6lX4GQk/s1600-h/DSCN0271.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5411801130740815474" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 244px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oS24pbuJyZQ/SxqUdJjdFnI/AAAAAAAAAPY/Dt6Z6lX4GQk/s320/DSCN0271.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oS24pbuJyZQ/SxqUc6l3HUI/AAAAAAAAAPQ/MurKo-m97eg/s1600-h/DSCN0246.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5411801126724377922" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oS24pbuJyZQ/SxqUc6l3HUI/AAAAAAAAAPQ/MurKo-m97eg/s320/DSCN0246.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; photos by &lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;Cristina Wilberg&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&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/1176391980513443599-238850211348140486?l=wilberglife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wilberglife.blogspot.com/feeds/238850211348140486/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://wilberglife.blogspot.com/2009/12/my-photo-art.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1176391980513443599/posts/default/238850211348140486'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1176391980513443599/posts/default/238850211348140486'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wilberglife.blogspot.com/2009/12/my-photo-art.html' title='my photo art'/><author><name>Cristina Wilberg &amp;amp; Angela Cloward</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01767567047191010993</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oS24pbuJyZQ/TFmoP5WxznI/AAAAAAAAAmY/e4a0YRobARQ/S220/DSCN1925.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_oS24pbuJyZQ/SxqUeJYQiVI/AAAAAAAAAPw/5eloNLNsMgg/s72-c/DSCN0239.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1176391980513443599.post-1250030115186841775</id><published>2009-11-24T14:37:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-24T14:43:09.213-08:00</updated><title type='text'>simply... being me</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#666666;"&gt;A woman's beauty glows from the inside out when she is loved for who she is and not for what the world is trying to get her to be.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_oS24pbuJyZQ/SwxgVZAtCiI/AAAAAAAAAPA/pqDMYQxmxhM/s1600/SD535207.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5407803173172480546" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_oS24pbuJyZQ/SwxgVZAtCiI/AAAAAAAAAPA/pqDMYQxmxhM/s320/SD535207.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1176391980513443599-1250030115186841775?l=wilberglife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wilberglife.blogspot.com/feeds/1250030115186841775/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://wilberglife.blogspot.com/2009/11/simply-being-me.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1176391980513443599/posts/default/1250030115186841775'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1176391980513443599/posts/default/1250030115186841775'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wilberglife.blogspot.com/2009/11/simply-being-me.html' title='simply... being me'/><author><name>Cristina Wilberg &amp;amp; Angela Cloward</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01767567047191010993</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oS24pbuJyZQ/TFmoP5WxznI/AAAAAAAAAmY/e4a0YRobARQ/S220/DSCN1925.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_oS24pbuJyZQ/SwxgVZAtCiI/AAAAAAAAAPA/pqDMYQxmxhM/s72-c/SD535207.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1176391980513443599.post-7317630121939851830</id><published>2009-11-21T11:24:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-21T11:42:15.954-08:00</updated><title type='text'>He will not fail thee...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;Ask, and shall be given unto you...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_oS24pbuJyZQ/Swg-2a5N5BI/AAAAAAAAAO4/R4PbWsy9aa4/s1600/Will_Not_Fail_Thee.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5406640457311446034" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 246px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_oS24pbuJyZQ/Swg-2a5N5BI/AAAAAAAAAO4/R4PbWsy9aa4/s320/Will_Not_Fail_Thee.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I felt so close to him as I was going through my struggle. No matter how much I try to explain to some people, but no one will have the power of understanding that he does. I've learned my lesson, I got what he wants me to get it. And I love him even more deeply for it. I told him how important was for me to find the little things that for some people does not seem like a big deal, but he does not really care, all he cares is how you truely feel and what can he do to make you feel better. So I asked him to help me find my little things... and he did. I found my photo camera, my favorite pants, and my hubby got a bonus at work that made possible for us to have the money from the tickets I'd bought, I even found something elese that I was not looking for, the remote for car's dvd player. I haven't found my video cam yet, but I know I will.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I'm feeling amazing and very happy! I know other trials will come, and all got to remember were I need to go to get the right awnsers, to hear what I need to hear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1176391980513443599-7317630121939851830?l=wilberglife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wilberglife.blogspot.com/feeds/7317630121939851830/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://wilberglife.blogspot.com/2009/11/he-will-not-fail-thee.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1176391980513443599/posts/default/7317630121939851830'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1176391980513443599/posts/default/7317630121939851830'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wilberglife.blogspot.com/2009/11/he-will-not-fail-thee.html' title='He will not fail thee...'/><author><name>Cristina Wilberg &amp;amp; Angela Cloward</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01767567047191010993</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oS24pbuJyZQ/TFmoP5WxznI/AAAAAAAAAmY/e4a0YRobARQ/S220/DSCN1925.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_oS24pbuJyZQ/Swg-2a5N5BI/AAAAAAAAAO4/R4PbWsy9aa4/s72-c/Will_Not_Fail_Thee.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1176391980513443599.post-4178659096334695401</id><published>2009-11-19T12:11:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-19T12:17:57.105-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I wish...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oS24pbuJyZQ/SwWmeU3n44I/AAAAAAAAAOw/Dq0oyf-g6i0/s1600/screaming-phone.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5405909967656444802" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 224px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oS24pbuJyZQ/SwWmeU3n44I/AAAAAAAAAOw/Dq0oyf-g6i0/s320/screaming-phone.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;I wish I never said what I said...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;I wish I never believed your complaints&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;I wish I didn't care so much to the point were I got hurt too&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;I wish I had a better judgment&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;I wish I never got so involved&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;I wish I never had chosen to be involved&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;I wish I had the guts to tell you "SHUT UP!"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;And all that I wish... Is that I was worthy to be there...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1176391980513443599-4178659096334695401?l=wilberglife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wilberglife.blogspot.com/feeds/4178659096334695401/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://wilberglife.blogspot.com/2009/11/i-wish.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1176391980513443599/posts/default/4178659096334695401'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1176391980513443599/posts/default/4178659096334695401'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wilberglife.blogspot.com/2009/11/i-wish.html' title='I wish...'/><author><name>Cristina Wilberg &amp;amp; Angela Cloward</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01767567047191010993</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oS24pbuJyZQ/TFmoP5WxznI/AAAAAAAAAmY/e4a0YRobARQ/S220/DSCN1925.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oS24pbuJyZQ/SwWmeU3n44I/AAAAAAAAAOw/Dq0oyf-g6i0/s72-c/screaming-phone.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1176391980513443599.post-2817172084137026035</id><published>2009-11-19T10:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-19T10:29:03.545-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Into thy hands I give you my sorrows...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_oS24pbuJyZQ/SwWOQbmsxKI/AAAAAAAAAOo/esAdBNApV4U/s1600/SD533642.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5405883340667274402" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 283px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_oS24pbuJyZQ/SwWOQbmsxKI/AAAAAAAAAOo/esAdBNApV4U/s320/SD533642.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;...so I can be made free&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#009900;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Paint by Cristina Wilberg&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1176391980513443599-2817172084137026035?l=wilberglife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wilberglife.blogspot.com/feeds/2817172084137026035/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://wilberglife.blogspot.com/2009/11/into-thy-hands-i-give-you-my-sorrows.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1176391980513443599/posts/default/2817172084137026035'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1176391980513443599/posts/default/2817172084137026035'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wilberglife.blogspot.com/2009/11/into-thy-hands-i-give-you-my-sorrows.html' title='Into thy hands I give you my sorrows...'/><author><name>Cristina Wilberg &amp;amp; Angela Cloward</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01767567047191010993</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oS24pbuJyZQ/TFmoP5WxznI/AAAAAAAAAmY/e4a0YRobARQ/S220/DSCN1925.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_oS24pbuJyZQ/SwWOQbmsxKI/AAAAAAAAAOo/esAdBNApV4U/s72-c/SD533642.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1176391980513443599.post-9037262980530859392</id><published>2009-11-18T13:28:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-18T14:05:50.941-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Ironic, just yesterday I try to tell myself that I was loved</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oS24pbuJyZQ/SwRp84cZLDI/AAAAAAAAAOQ/tZ9uP-esgUQ/s1600/_96771_children_sad_300.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5405561947415981106" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 304px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oS24pbuJyZQ/SwRp84cZLDI/AAAAAAAAAOQ/tZ9uP-esgUQ/s320/_96771_children_sad_300.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have been fighting all week this feeling of being punished... and today, I can't help it any longer. The little girl inside my heart is really receiving the message "yes, you are a bad girl that's why you are being punished!" Since the bad event last thursday, my heart has been aching pretty bad. Not only that, but a list of few little weird things going on all around me lately has become a real big deal, like I lost my favorie pair of pants, I lost my video and photo camera, the mouse on the computer broke, I lost my cell phone, I had to cancel my trip to washignton to see my childhood friends because of a very stupid mistake I made when I bought the tickets.... I was supose to be there tomorrow!!!!! I'm so jelous of my other two friends, they are together right now and happy and laughing together... I was supose to be there...there with them too... I just feel like... everything is going wrong around me. And I know I can't blame no one but me. I feel I deserve everything that has happen, and if there is more to come, I deserve that too! I am sooo sad... I wish I could find my favorite pants, or my cameras, or something... at least something. I dont know. I saw that my friends try to call me several times today to let me know that L. arrived safe over there from her trip. I don't feel like talking... not at all.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have no idea what is the purpose behind all of this, all I feel is that I deserve it. And I probally do, I am not innocent.&lt;/div&gt;&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/1176391980513443599-9037262980530859392?l=wilberglife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wilberglife.blogspot.com/feeds/9037262980530859392/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://wilberglife.blogspot.com/2009/11/ironic-just-yesterday-i-try-to-tell.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1176391980513443599/posts/default/9037262980530859392'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1176391980513443599/posts/default/9037262980530859392'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wilberglife.blogspot.com/2009/11/ironic-just-yesterday-i-try-to-tell.html' title='Ironic, just yesterday I try to tell myself that I was loved'/><author><name>Cristina Wilberg &amp;amp; Angela Cloward</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01767567047191010993</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oS24pbuJyZQ/TFmoP5WxznI/AAAAAAAAAmY/e4a0YRobARQ/S220/DSCN1925.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_oS24pbuJyZQ/SwRp84cZLDI/AAAAAAAAAOQ/tZ9uP-esgUQ/s72-c/_96771_children_sad_300.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1176391980513443599.post-619663103106468434</id><published>2009-11-17T12:24:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-18T14:12:09.223-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Feeling Loved</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_oS24pbuJyZQ/SwMK1BKfpHI/AAAAAAAAAOI/44pEO6fcgNg/s1600/Disney%2520Birds-2.gif"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5405175883736523890" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 203px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 160px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_oS24pbuJyZQ/SwMK1BKfpHI/AAAAAAAAAOI/44pEO6fcgNg/s400/Disney%2520Birds-2.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"&gt;I don't know if you know this about me already, but I love&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt; birds&lt;/span&gt; and &lt;span style="color:#cc66cc;"&gt;butterflies&lt;/span&gt;! I love all Havenly Father's creations...except for &lt;span style="color:#33cc00;"&gt;frogs&lt;/span&gt;. They are just so ugly! Some people find them pretty fascinating, but I see them as fascinatingly ugly! urgh!&lt;/span&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#3366ff;"&gt;Birds&lt;/span&gt; and &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;butterflies&lt;/span&gt; have a very special place in my heart. I love them.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;"&gt;Now that we are on winter season, the butterflies are gone, but the birds are still around. Right in front of my kitchen's sink, there's a window, were I look through it every morning to see the sun light and the birds flying in the back yard. Havenly Father knows how much I love them, and when I get to see one, I take that as an "I love you" from the Lord to me, because I know in my heart that's his way to send his love note, because seeing something you love so much it does not just happen, the Lord does on purpose, because he meanted, because he wants us to know how much he loves us. And All that I can say is... "I love you too" in return of his kindness.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1176391980513443599-619663103106468434?l=wilberglife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wilberglife.blogspot.com/feeds/619663103106468434/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://wilberglife.blogspot.com/2009/11/feeling-loved.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1176391980513443599/posts/default/619663103106468434'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1176391980513443599/posts/default/619663103106468434'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wilberglife.blogspot.com/2009/11/feeling-loved.html' title='Feeling Loved'/><author><name>Cristina Wilberg &amp;amp; Angela Cloward</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01767567047191010993</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oS24pbuJyZQ/TFmoP5WxznI/AAAAAAAAAmY/e4a0YRobARQ/S220/DSCN1925.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_oS24pbuJyZQ/SwMK1BKfpHI/AAAAAAAAAOI/44pEO6fcgNg/s72-c/Disney%2520Birds-2.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1176391980513443599.post-5968281499818172638</id><published>2009-11-14T20:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-14T20:55:15.985-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Well said...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oS24pbuJyZQ/Sv-JEadT_qI/AAAAAAAAANg/A2Dphb540u0/s1600-h/butterfly047.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5404188786782633634" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 317px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oS24pbuJyZQ/Sv-JEadT_qI/AAAAAAAAANg/A2Dphb540u0/s400/butterfly047.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="color:#33ccff;"&gt; &lt;strong&gt;Very well said..&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1176391980513443599-5968281499818172638?l=wilberglife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wilberglife.blogspot.com/feeds/5968281499818172638/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://wilberglife.blogspot.com/2009/11/well-said.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1176391980513443599/posts/default/5968281499818172638'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1176391980513443599/posts/default/5968281499818172638'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wilberglife.blogspot.com/2009/11/well-said.html' title='Well said...'/><author><name>Cristina Wilberg &amp;amp; Angela Cloward</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01767567047191010993</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oS24pbuJyZQ/TFmoP5WxznI/AAAAAAAAAmY/e4a0YRobARQ/S220/DSCN1925.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oS24pbuJyZQ/Sv-JEadT_qI/AAAAAAAAANg/A2Dphb540u0/s72-c/butterfly047.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1176391980513443599.post-2808533893061405583</id><published>2009-11-12T14:29:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-12T17:30:01.562-08:00</updated><title type='text'>and I just cried and cried...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oS24pbuJyZQ/SvyPPE0996I/AAAAAAAAAMA/M2jwLq6VYOI/s1600-h/woman_crying.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5403351142094469026" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 268px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oS24pbuJyZQ/SvyPPE0996I/AAAAAAAAAMA/M2jwLq6VYOI/s400/woman_crying.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Yep! Because I felt like the most horrible mother on the earth today... Man! I'm sooo greatful for the gift of the Holy Ghost, he really saved my life today as I was stuck at the supermarket parking in lot with a car that would not freaking shut off the alarm system, and with four kids in the car hungry and tired and three of them were just &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;CRYING&lt;/span&gt; their heads out because they all want to go home!!! &lt;div&gt;And everything started as I was at the store, for a few minutes, and a lady on the car next to my decide to call the police when I showed up and told them about my unattend children... I just couldn't believe that was happening to me... I just cried and cried... why? Because I couldn't start the car, I couldn't get the stupid alarm to shut it off because we never had the locker!!! (I'm so angry!!) and to make it worst, when the police officer arrived, the idiot lady stood there starring at me like I was the worst mother on the planet! That does it! She really got what she wanted from me and that is to make feel like a was not a good mom... and I felt like that... I am still feeling that I am a horrible mother!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff99ff;"&gt;AWWW!!!&lt;/span&gt; How sweet what just happen to me right now, my dear daughter just gave me a kiss and a hug... she probally felt I was in need of some love. Her kiss and hug I'll take as a testemony from her that I'm not a bad mom... thanks a lot darling!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;How the Holy Ghost saved me? Well, as I sat in the car crying and praying, a very soft voice spoke to me and said how I could stop the alarm for going off. He told me to lock the car from the inside and to give tha car key to the police officer to open the door from the outside, and guess what? It work!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;What A afternoon! Thank goodness I wont take that as &lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;MY WHOLE DAY&lt;/span&gt; was ruinned, but just as an &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;AFTERNOON...&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="color:#cc33cc;"&gt;that will do just fine.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1176391980513443599-2808533893061405583?l=wilberglife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wilberglife.blogspot.com/feeds/2808533893061405583/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://wilberglife.blogspot.com/2009/11/and-i-just-cried-and-cried.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1176391980513443599/posts/default/2808533893061405583'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1176391980513443599/posts/default/2808533893061405583'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wilberglife.blogspot.com/2009/11/and-i-just-cried-and-cried.html' title='and I just cried and cried...'/><author><name>Cristina Wilberg &amp;amp; Angela Cloward</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01767567047191010993</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oS24pbuJyZQ/TFmoP5WxznI/AAAAAAAAAmY/e4a0YRobARQ/S220/DSCN1925.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oS24pbuJyZQ/SvyPPE0996I/AAAAAAAAAMA/M2jwLq6VYOI/s72-c/woman_crying.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1176391980513443599.post-3831617824357843584</id><published>2009-11-12T11:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-12T11:48:05.397-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Yes...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oS24pbuJyZQ/SvxluIgfxZI/AAAAAAAAAL4/vPOiaR3oAY0/s1600-h/SweaterPurpleW.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5403305496169923986" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 246px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oS24pbuJyZQ/SvxluIgfxZI/AAAAAAAAAL4/vPOiaR3oAY0/s320/SweaterPurpleW.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Is pretty cold, and I would love to have a cup of hot cocoa... but there are so many things that I would love to have. One of them is that I would love to get rid of this &lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;ugly purple&lt;/span&gt; sweater I'm wearing right now, it makes me look like an old lady! I wish I'd had never bought this sweater... frustrading huh? It's ok, at least the sweater serves it's purpose in keep me warm, he is not completely useless, but if it was, it would make the situation a lot worst, so I have to be greatful for that. How funny! Look how I'm so focus on this stupid sweater, I dind't even know how much it bother me 'til now... hum... &lt;span style="color:#993399;"&gt;Life is weird&lt;/span&gt;... and I love every single minute of it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;p.s. that is not the sweater, my is too ulgy to post a picture.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1176391980513443599-3831617824357843584?l=wilberglife.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wilberglife.blogspot.com/feeds/3831617824357843584/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://wilberglife.blogspot.com/2009/11/yes.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1176391980513443599/posts/default/3831617824357843584'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1176391980513443599/posts/default/3831617824357843584'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wilberglife.blogspot.com/2009/11/yes.html' title='Yes...'/><author><name>Cristina Wilberg &amp;amp; Angela Cloward</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/01767567047191010993</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_oS24pbuJyZQ/TFmoP5WxznI/AAAAAAAAAmY/e4a0YRobARQ/S220/DSCN1925.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_oS24pbuJyZQ/SvxluIgfxZI/AAAAAAAAAL4/vPOiaR3oAY0/s72-c/SweaterPurpleW.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
