<?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-5029626</id><updated>2011-04-21T15:04:35.631-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Captains' Blog</title><subtitle type='html'>web logs for Christian encouragement posted by Captains Danielle Strickland and Stephen Court</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://armybarmy.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5029626/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://armybarmy.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>armybarmy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03915061523927037567</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>1</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5029626.post-88735177</id><published>2003-02-07T17:32:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2003-02-07T18:00:23.000-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Greetings in Jesus’ name, friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I heard that this week from another new father who learned a lesson that I have now learned vicariously.  He just disciplined his son for something and was praying about it.  He sensed God surprise him with this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;”I didn’t give you your son to make him more like you.  I gave you your son to make you more like him.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I will remember that as my 8 month-old son Zion and I hang out together in the months to come.  God wants me to become like Zion.  And, unlike my inclination to figure that this means cute, adorable, and a JOY (with a sensational hyper-ventilating laugh), I think that God means I am to recognize that I am totally unable, entirely needy, utterly dependent on God.  I bring nothing to the table.  I cannot do anything useful.  I am pretty well useless.  I need God.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Posted by Stephen Court, &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5029626-88735177?l=armybarmy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5029626/posts/default/88735177'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5029626/posts/default/88735177'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://armybarmy.blogspot.com/2003_02_02_archive.html#88735177' title=''/><author><name>armybarmy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03915061523927037567</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry></feed>
