After going back through my mother's old blog posts, I found some interesting sets of questions that I wanted to try for myself. I tag my sister to do this next on her blog.
1. How much writing do you do on average?
As a English major finishing her sophomore year? A lot. A whole lot of papers.
2. What's the last thing you wrote?
A two paged short story about a man-eating sunbeam. Dedicated to one of our cats.
3. Is it any good?
Nope. It still needs a lot of work.
4. What's the first thing you ever wrote that you still have?
The first few chapters of a manuscript I started when I was twelve.
5. Favorite genre of writing?
Descriptive Fiction. I have too much fun describing things and trying not to use the same adjective on any given page.
6. How often do you get writer's block?
Did I ever get out of it?
7. How do you fix it?
Music, midnight walks around campus and sometimes junk food.
8. Do you save everything you write?
Yep, still have high school essays on my laptop.
9. How do you feel about revision?
Honestly, I think I spend more time revising and editing than I do actually writing.
10. What's your favorite thing that you've written?
"The Library and the Candle" Took me three years, but I am extremely proud of it.
11. What's everyone else's favorite thing that you've written?
I'm not sure, no one has ever told me. "Hide and Seek" was pretty popular, but not a lot of people read my stuff.
12. What writing projects are you working on right now?
A play over two assassins who adopt their teenage sister after their father dies in a questionable bomb explosion. Final draft is due next Friday. In another class I'm working on a short story that could go fantasy or sci-fi, I haven't quite figured out which.
13. What's one genre you have never written, and probably never will?
Well, I have to write in several genres for classes, but outside of class? Poetry. I detest writing poems. I don't mind reading them, but writing poems has never been my thing.
Showing posts with label Writing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Writing. Show all posts
Friday, April 25, 2014
Tuesday, March 11, 2014
Into the Night
It is hard for me to write when I am in the middle of a battle. I pour my soul into my stories. My fears, my short comings, my shadows. When I am in the middle of a struggle with the Dark, my writing often gets pushed back. Held off until I'm in the light again. "You can't write know, you can barely make it through classes/work without tears. Writing would tear you apart. Besides writing while in a highly emotional state impairs your work." I tell myself. "Focus on college, you don't know how to write yet."
I need to break the cycle. After college it will be "You're too busy at work to write. Writing drains you." Yes, writing does drain me. I get shaky and need to sleep after a solid day of writing. But what is it draining me of? All the strife and struggles; the darkness is finally laid out on paper for the world to see.
There are a lot of Christian books that were written in the light, about nothing but the light. That is all well and good, but Christianity is not about light alone. It is about leaving the darkness. It is learning to fight back. It is about diving into the dark to be a light. A light only shines when it is in the dark. I need to write about the dark. How it talks to me, caresses me and beckons me to follow. Only then will I be able to help others turn down that offer. There is no point in a lighting a candle at high noon. To defeat the shadows, we must first enter them. Yes, it is hard to write when the Dark is at my shoulder, but that is where the Light is needed. We chose to be bearers of light, to carry it into the shadows. It is time to plunge into the night.
I need to break the cycle. After college it will be "You're too busy at work to write. Writing drains you." Yes, writing does drain me. I get shaky and need to sleep after a solid day of writing. But what is it draining me of? All the strife and struggles; the darkness is finally laid out on paper for the world to see.
There are a lot of Christian books that were written in the light, about nothing but the light. That is all well and good, but Christianity is not about light alone. It is about leaving the darkness. It is learning to fight back. It is about diving into the dark to be a light. A light only shines when it is in the dark. I need to write about the dark. How it talks to me, caresses me and beckons me to follow. Only then will I be able to help others turn down that offer. There is no point in a lighting a candle at high noon. To defeat the shadows, we must first enter them. Yes, it is hard to write when the Dark is at my shoulder, but that is where the Light is needed. We chose to be bearers of light, to carry it into the shadows. It is time to plunge into the night.
Wednesday, May 30, 2012
Bedtime Thoughts: Brothers and Memories
It's late, my parents and sister have already gone to bed. I lay in my bed, the warm light from my lamp casts light across my room. This light, so much smaller than my bedroom light, still manages to light up the entire room. My light may not be as strong as Father's, but it still shines. Be it science or faith, light and dark cannot co-exist.
The fan blows my still damp hair in my face, I brush it back as I stare at the ceiling. The cardboard dragon model above my bed spins in the breeze created by the fan. It's blue and white scales make it as a frost dragon. It's long shadow spreads across the ceiling, looking for a place to land but doomed to fly forever. I give a snort of laughter as I recall how this past December Tristin and Ayden had told in about the monstrous frost dragons they had fought in their computer/video games. They had been so excited and eager to tell me of their conquests and of the magical creatures that hold all three of us in awe.
I pause for a minute, listening to the music coming through my mp3 player. Again I hold back my laughter, thinking of the look on Ayden's face when he introduced me to TobyMac. He had thought I didn't like it, yet today I've listened to this album three or four times. I'll probably have it memorized by tommorrow.
My eyes move from the dragon to the tall white bookshelf at the foot of my bed. Tales of the Kingdom, The Lord of the Rings, The Chronicles of Narnia, and The Circle. I smile, Tristin Ayden and Aric all pushed me to read that last series. I finally gave in and ordered a set after Christmas. Those books have helped me understand love in a way had never though possible. Yet another thing I have to thank my brothers for.
At the foot of the bookshelf is a small wooden treasure box. Letters from Mexico, a rosary, a candle, a photo and a blue chopstick reside inside it. All of them are from Aric, my gifts from a close friend and brother. Sometimes I pull the letters out and read them. Laughing at his adventures on the missionary trip, and fingering the wooden rosary he brought back for me. I play the chopstick, wondering is Aric still has the matching one.I look at the picture of the two of us at prom, thinking of how excited we where to dance in a castle, despite not knowing how to dance.The candle fills my nose with the sent of lemongrass, my favorite. I can remember when he went to the store he bought it at on our one evening out. Next to the chest, on the bottom shelf are two binders. One is filled with my first and only completed manuscript, the other is Aric's. The creative fantasy worlds that we helped each other create. On rainy days I flip through them, amazed by how much we have grown with our imaginations and a pen.
Next to the white bookshelf is a small brown one, under my window. There, on the bottom left shelf is a pitiful collection of CD's. Red, Manic Drive, Skillet and Newsboys. Ayden introduced me to Red, and even gave me one of the two CD's that I have by that group. I giggle, then stop, not wanting to wake my sister or Dad in the adjoining rooms. Ayden took me to my first concert, I've only been to one concert without him, actually. He was with me when we heard Manic Drive for the first time. This past year he has helped me grow in my faith by using music, or lectures where Aric used his pen.My fondest memories of my last year in the Asylum were of the weekend long concert I spent with Ayden and the rest of the youth group. Sometimes I play his favorite Red, Skillet or TobyMac songs and try to figure out why he likes them so much, and why I agree or disagree with him. Like writing, music has a flow a plus that can affect the lives of people around the world. The pen and music is what gave me my faith back.
On my west wall, next to my mirror is a picture, Tristin gave it to me on my birthday. He spent over a month drawing this detailed picture of the library we both dreamed of yet never had. I grin at the way he had complained about how long it took to draw every single tiny book on the endless shelves. I love it, at least once a week I go up to it and look at his signature in the bottom right corner. It's a friendly little wave that reminds me that he really did draw that medieval underground armed library just for me.I looked at the back of the picture once. Tristin's favorite smiley face, the head of a dismayed man (he may have been in pain, I couldn't tell) a half erased celtic knot that beat any that I could have drawn and the phrase "It's equal." Whether that is just his doodles or something meant for me, it brings a smile to me face.
These gifts, given in passing are tokens of the love that resides between siblings. I've never told Tristin how much I love it when he calls me "sis"; it makes me glow on the inside. The way I can't stop smiling when Ayden runs to give me a hug when he sees me at church. The feeling of trust when Aric tells me of his problems and how he has fixed other issues. I belong when they give me these small gestures. I strive to impress them, to live up to their expectations as much as my parents'.I want them to know I listened to what they told me and that I love them too. A few times I've had bad dreams about letting them down, though as of yet I haven't done anything too major. Aric still want to know what I am writing and always offers his help and thoughts.Tristin told me he was proud of me several times on my graduation day and kept apologizing for not being there. Ayden did the same, and continues to tell me about how much I am going to love being at college this fall.
My eyes move back to the lamp and to the new Bible laying next to it. If these boys see me as their little sister, how much more so my Savior, Jesus? I may not have any letters, music or pictures from Him, but His love for me is stronger than any shared by two mortals. In my ear, TobyMac continues to sing "this ain't no ordinary love." He's right, this is a special love, one that needs no gifts or tokens, yet Jesus still gave me one. His gift for me is in my heart. I can feel his arms around me when I close my eyes. This brother gave his life for mine, Tristin's, Ayden's and Aric's. I don't know if he'll call me '"sis", but the love of a brother is unique and I have learned to recognize it, thanks to Tristin, Ayden and Aric. I only hope and pray that the love of a little sister is enough for all four of them and that I don't abandon my eldest brother.
The song changes, taking my thoughts with it. I roll over, glancing around my room once more. Before long this won't be my room, I'll be gone to college. What will I take? What will I leave? The letters, the music, the picture? The stories we all told and listened to? Will I leave them behind and start anew, like so many of my classmates are doing? Will do the opposite and take the past into the future? I stretch, my fingers brushing the smooth, cool cover of my Bible. Is it the past, the memories that defines who I am, or is it what I do with my past? I turn off the lamp and take out my earbuds, the player goes to sleep as the last song ends. My Bible, letters, music and picture will come with me; to remind me to stay in touch with all four of my brothers and make new memories with them. A new beginning does not mean an end to the laughter of the past, and I want to have their friendship and support for the rest of my life. I flip my phone over to find a text from Ayden: G nite sis. Sleep well n God bless. Love ya. Yawning, I save the text and send him a similar one back before pulling the sheet up to my ears. Some nights, like tonight, I can feel Jesus sitting on the foot of my bed. He's watching over me with the love and wisdom of a brother as I drift into the dreams he wants to share with me. I hazily wonder what he has in store for me, Tristin, Ayden, and Aric.
The fan blows my still damp hair in my face, I brush it back as I stare at the ceiling. The cardboard dragon model above my bed spins in the breeze created by the fan. It's blue and white scales make it as a frost dragon. It's long shadow spreads across the ceiling, looking for a place to land but doomed to fly forever. I give a snort of laughter as I recall how this past December Tristin and Ayden had told in about the monstrous frost dragons they had fought in their computer/video games. They had been so excited and eager to tell me of their conquests and of the magical creatures that hold all three of us in awe.
I pause for a minute, listening to the music coming through my mp3 player. Again I hold back my laughter, thinking of the look on Ayden's face when he introduced me to TobyMac. He had thought I didn't like it, yet today I've listened to this album three or four times. I'll probably have it memorized by tommorrow.
My eyes move from the dragon to the tall white bookshelf at the foot of my bed. Tales of the Kingdom, The Lord of the Rings, The Chronicles of Narnia, and The Circle. I smile, Tristin Ayden and Aric all pushed me to read that last series. I finally gave in and ordered a set after Christmas. Those books have helped me understand love in a way had never though possible. Yet another thing I have to thank my brothers for.
At the foot of the bookshelf is a small wooden treasure box. Letters from Mexico, a rosary, a candle, a photo and a blue chopstick reside inside it. All of them are from Aric, my gifts from a close friend and brother. Sometimes I pull the letters out and read them. Laughing at his adventures on the missionary trip, and fingering the wooden rosary he brought back for me. I play the chopstick, wondering is Aric still has the matching one.I look at the picture of the two of us at prom, thinking of how excited we where to dance in a castle, despite not knowing how to dance.The candle fills my nose with the sent of lemongrass, my favorite. I can remember when he went to the store he bought it at on our one evening out. Next to the chest, on the bottom shelf are two binders. One is filled with my first and only completed manuscript, the other is Aric's. The creative fantasy worlds that we helped each other create. On rainy days I flip through them, amazed by how much we have grown with our imaginations and a pen.
Next to the white bookshelf is a small brown one, under my window. There, on the bottom left shelf is a pitiful collection of CD's. Red, Manic Drive, Skillet and Newsboys. Ayden introduced me to Red, and even gave me one of the two CD's that I have by that group. I giggle, then stop, not wanting to wake my sister or Dad in the adjoining rooms. Ayden took me to my first concert, I've only been to one concert without him, actually. He was with me when we heard Manic Drive for the first time. This past year he has helped me grow in my faith by using music, or lectures where Aric used his pen.My fondest memories of my last year in the Asylum were of the weekend long concert I spent with Ayden and the rest of the youth group. Sometimes I play his favorite Red, Skillet or TobyMac songs and try to figure out why he likes them so much, and why I agree or disagree with him. Like writing, music has a flow a plus that can affect the lives of people around the world. The pen and music is what gave me my faith back.
On my west wall, next to my mirror is a picture, Tristin gave it to me on my birthday. He spent over a month drawing this detailed picture of the library we both dreamed of yet never had. I grin at the way he had complained about how long it took to draw every single tiny book on the endless shelves. I love it, at least once a week I go up to it and look at his signature in the bottom right corner. It's a friendly little wave that reminds me that he really did draw that medieval underground armed library just for me.I looked at the back of the picture once. Tristin's favorite smiley face, the head of a dismayed man (he may have been in pain, I couldn't tell) a half erased celtic knot that beat any that I could have drawn and the phrase "It's equal." Whether that is just his doodles or something meant for me, it brings a smile to me face.
These gifts, given in passing are tokens of the love that resides between siblings. I've never told Tristin how much I love it when he calls me "sis"; it makes me glow on the inside. The way I can't stop smiling when Ayden runs to give me a hug when he sees me at church. The feeling of trust when Aric tells me of his problems and how he has fixed other issues. I belong when they give me these small gestures. I strive to impress them, to live up to their expectations as much as my parents'.I want them to know I listened to what they told me and that I love them too. A few times I've had bad dreams about letting them down, though as of yet I haven't done anything too major. Aric still want to know what I am writing and always offers his help and thoughts.Tristin told me he was proud of me several times on my graduation day and kept apologizing for not being there. Ayden did the same, and continues to tell me about how much I am going to love being at college this fall.
My eyes move back to the lamp and to the new Bible laying next to it. If these boys see me as their little sister, how much more so my Savior, Jesus? I may not have any letters, music or pictures from Him, but His love for me is stronger than any shared by two mortals. In my ear, TobyMac continues to sing "this ain't no ordinary love." He's right, this is a special love, one that needs no gifts or tokens, yet Jesus still gave me one. His gift for me is in my heart. I can feel his arms around me when I close my eyes. This brother gave his life for mine, Tristin's, Ayden's and Aric's. I don't know if he'll call me '"sis", but the love of a brother is unique and I have learned to recognize it, thanks to Tristin, Ayden and Aric. I only hope and pray that the love of a little sister is enough for all four of them and that I don't abandon my eldest brother.
The song changes, taking my thoughts with it. I roll over, glancing around my room once more. Before long this won't be my room, I'll be gone to college. What will I take? What will I leave? The letters, the music, the picture? The stories we all told and listened to? Will I leave them behind and start anew, like so many of my classmates are doing? Will do the opposite and take the past into the future? I stretch, my fingers brushing the smooth, cool cover of my Bible. Is it the past, the memories that defines who I am, or is it what I do with my past? I turn off the lamp and take out my earbuds, the player goes to sleep as the last song ends. My Bible, letters, music and picture will come with me; to remind me to stay in touch with all four of my brothers and make new memories with them. A new beginning does not mean an end to the laughter of the past, and I want to have their friendship and support for the rest of my life. I flip my phone over to find a text from Ayden: G nite sis. Sleep well n God bless. Love ya. Yawning, I save the text and send him a similar one back before pulling the sheet up to my ears. Some nights, like tonight, I can feel Jesus sitting on the foot of my bed. He's watching over me with the love and wisdom of a brother as I drift into the dreams he wants to share with me. I hazily wonder what he has in store for me, Tristin, Ayden, and Aric.
Monday, January 30, 2012
Sacrifice of Love
Recently my church began to do a twenty-one day fast. My youth class decided to give up one or more of our hobbies and habits. Honorary older brother, Ayden, gave up his video games. My dear companion at school, Mae, gave up facebook and texting. I gave up restricted myself to read only the Bible and to do no writing besides what was needed for school. I started on the first day of second semester and went on from there. When my classmates found out about it, they all stared.
"Now Lizzy, be serious." One senior tried to reason with me. He has been my friend since we were ten. He knows that I read to escape, to draw strength from the characters; to learn how to be a better writer and to gain more understanding of how the world around me works. This boy understands that writing my fiction stories is how I process what happens in my life and that it kept me sane during my rough time away from God.
"I am serious." I meant it. What better place to gain strength and understanding than from God? How would I be able to hear what he said if I had my ears stuffed with wax?
"Wow, Lizzy, you're crazy." A dark haired girl points her finger at me eyeing me carefully. I used to play house with her on the playground. We've never been very close, but to her I'm the daughter of two teachers who has had her nose in a book since second grade. There's a look in her eyes that startles me. Yes, she really thinks I've gone round the bend. However, the way she looks at me holds more. She's in awe that I'd be willing to even try this fast, I can see that she respects me.
"I'd never be able to do that." Another girl I grew up with shakes her head. It startles me. I've never really been part of the group. I sit with them at lunch, but for the most part I do my own thing. We don't hang out outside of school and the clubs we participate in are different as well. Her grades are above mine and I've always felt shabby in my old black jeans and red Wal-Mart blouse compared to her outfits. Sometimes I felt she looked down on me because of my eagerness in English and Viking-like hair. Yet here she was, giving me a look of pride and respect.
I shrug, not sure what to say. "Anything is possible with God." All three of them widen their eyes further, anymore and the eyeballs may fall out. "Plus it's just books and a pen." The eyes shrink a tad, but I can still feel them watching me as I go back to the video I'm making for class.
A week passed. I had no problem with not touching the shelves of fiction that reside in my room...until the books I ordered over break came in. A leather bound edition of The Chronicles of Narnia by C.S. Lewis and Ted Dekker's The Circle Series. I was tempted, but as soon as they were out of the packaging they were on my book shelf next to The Lord of the Rings.
By the second week I noticed changes in my behavior. I had more energy, physically I felt the same as always. Spiritually I was jumping up and down like a toddler on soda. I had a few free classes. While the others were playing games I opted to read my Bible. I studied First Samuel, Esther, Ruth, most of Daniel, and parts of Job, James, and Genesis in those classes. It was a very good learning experience. To top that off, I gained more patience with the classmates that I normally have the urge to strangle. I saw them differently and grew to love them. My love for God seemed to explode and I swear I could feel his hand on my shoulder when I walked down the hallway (no, it wasn't my backpack).
During my last week, I had a surprise. Part of what I had been praying for was that my classmates would become closer to God. Suddenly the friends I mentioned above were praying and discussing Bible verses on Facebook. They still said that I was crazy, but every time they ask if I was still fasting, I could sense their excitement and the pride when they explained to the teacher why I wasn't reading my favorite authors in my spare time (I tried to tell the teachers, but they beat me to it). To top it off, one of the girls walked up to me with a huge grin and a glow of joy. She told me she was fasting by giving up Facebook for a week. I wanted to hug her and cry for joy (unfortunately even a hug breaks the PDA rules and can land you in ISD).
I gave up my books, paper and pen for God. In that time I began to understand just how much he loves me. Jesus gave up his life for me, why can't I show my love for him by sacrificing my other loves? Even now that the fast is over, I'm still learning about the Father's love. The Circle Series continues to open my eyes and heart. I can feel my mind turning over these new ideas and comparing them with parts of the Bible to make sure Ted Dekker's words match. They do, and a few issues I have always been confused on are starting to make sense. That doesn't mean that I can't continue to to my part in what Dekker calls "The Great Romance" and turn over what I have (pen, tongue, heart and mind) to my Lord.
Thursday, March 3, 2011
Unexpected Plan
There's a joke that has an important message. How do you make God laugh? Tell him your plans.
So far in my life, my plans and God's have matched. I want to be a writer, and as my brother told me recently, I seem to be pretty good at it. I want to go to one college so badly that I pray every day for an acceptance letter almost to the point of tears. Friday, part of God's plan became obvious to me and I was completely thrown by surprise.
I am doing an online Bible Study with a group of kids around my age and young adults. We come from different states and some of us live in Canada. We all met through our favorite band, Manic Drive. The band members are administrators of the study along with a young mother who made friends with the band and started our Bible Study, Prayer Group, and friend group (for us to just chat). After the first few days, I was the only one commenting and saying my thoughts and views on the daily readings our teacher, Jodi, was posting for us to learn from. Jodi contacted me, she told me that this was the first Bible Study that she had taught and that my comments were very encouraging to her and that I was catching stuff that she was missing. I expressed how much I was enjoying our Bible Study. A few hours later I was staring at her reply, unsure if I should cry or scream. " If you'd like you can do one of the chapters studies for the day :) just let me know if you'd want to."
Me teach a lesson? I just got my faith back roughly two years ago! I don't know the books of the Bible and I have no Bible verses memorized. I've never been to church camp and only one concert. How the heck could I teach about a whole chapter of Proverbs to people I've never met? I just looked at the computer screen, part of me really, really wanted to do it. I love our online lessons, tearing apart the verses for any secrets God hid within for me to find. I loved posting my findings for my teacher and friends to read and tear apart for themselves. I even liked it when they proved me wrong on certain issues, but could I really teach a lesson myself?
Unsure of what to do, I reached for my phone and texted my brother at college, Ayden the son of my pastor. "Well, I think God is asking you to do something for him that would also help you as well." He replied within minutes. "I wouldn't pass it up. What are you nervous about?"
I told him my fears and doubts, but even then I knew I would take up Jodi's offer. God wouldn't have put this before me if he didn't think I could do it. I had no cause to be nervous. Still the back of my head tittered back and forth. At least until Ayden texted me again. "I'm going to tell you what my dad told me. It's not you who's speaking or even influencing them. It's God who's doing the talking. The disciples didn't know their scripture either, but God spoke through them." That did it, I typed a reply to Jodi immediately saying I would be interested in taking one of the lessons if she would like me to. Ayden continued to talk to me, saying that I couldn't be that surprised by Jodi's offer. "I'm just saying you've got a way with words." He added, which gave me more strength. If I was actually meeting these people, chances are I would fall over from stage fright, normally I have no problems with talking in front of others, but this will be the first time I've done it over the Bible. All I have to do is type my thoughts over the chapter and post them for the rest of the class to see. As Ayden put it, it was "a good starting point."Although, I did start to panic a bit when I read that text. Starting point? Oh boy.
Jodi messaged me back and we agreed that I would take over the lesson for Proverbs chapter 20 when we reached it (we're going through the whole book, one chapter a day). My pastor had a huge grin on his face when I told him this morning at church. I still can't believe that I'm actually going to teach a lesson. My stomach has been fluttering since last night, though that may be due to the Girl Scout Cookies and peanut butter cups.
While I'm very nervous, I can't wait to reach chapter 20. Teaching a Bible Study lesson was never in my plans, but it was in God's and I'm sure he was laughing when I opened that message from Jodi. I can't help but laugh at my reaction with him. Was I really stupid enough to think that I knew what all was going to happen? This was completely unexpected, but it's still part of God's plan.
So far in my life, my plans and God's have matched. I want to be a writer, and as my brother told me recently, I seem to be pretty good at it. I want to go to one college so badly that I pray every day for an acceptance letter almost to the point of tears. Friday, part of God's plan became obvious to me and I was completely thrown by surprise.
I am doing an online Bible Study with a group of kids around my age and young adults. We come from different states and some of us live in Canada. We all met through our favorite band, Manic Drive. The band members are administrators of the study along with a young mother who made friends with the band and started our Bible Study, Prayer Group, and friend group (for us to just chat). After the first few days, I was the only one commenting and saying my thoughts and views on the daily readings our teacher, Jodi, was posting for us to learn from. Jodi contacted me, she told me that this was the first Bible Study that she had taught and that my comments were very encouraging to her and that I was catching stuff that she was missing. I expressed how much I was enjoying our Bible Study. A few hours later I was staring at her reply, unsure if I should cry or scream. " If you'd like you can do one of the chapters studies for the day :) just let me know if you'd want to."
Me teach a lesson? I just got my faith back roughly two years ago! I don't know the books of the Bible and I have no Bible verses memorized. I've never been to church camp and only one concert. How the heck could I teach about a whole chapter of Proverbs to people I've never met? I just looked at the computer screen, part of me really, really wanted to do it. I love our online lessons, tearing apart the verses for any secrets God hid within for me to find. I loved posting my findings for my teacher and friends to read and tear apart for themselves. I even liked it when they proved me wrong on certain issues, but could I really teach a lesson myself?
Unsure of what to do, I reached for my phone and texted my brother at college, Ayden the son of my pastor. "Well, I think God is asking you to do something for him that would also help you as well." He replied within minutes. "I wouldn't pass it up. What are you nervous about?"
I told him my fears and doubts, but even then I knew I would take up Jodi's offer. God wouldn't have put this before me if he didn't think I could do it. I had no cause to be nervous. Still the back of my head tittered back and forth. At least until Ayden texted me again. "I'm going to tell you what my dad told me. It's not you who's speaking or even influencing them. It's God who's doing the talking. The disciples didn't know their scripture either, but God spoke through them." That did it, I typed a reply to Jodi immediately saying I would be interested in taking one of the lessons if she would like me to. Ayden continued to talk to me, saying that I couldn't be that surprised by Jodi's offer. "I'm just saying you've got a way with words." He added, which gave me more strength. If I was actually meeting these people, chances are I would fall over from stage fright, normally I have no problems with talking in front of others, but this will be the first time I've done it over the Bible. All I have to do is type my thoughts over the chapter and post them for the rest of the class to see. As Ayden put it, it was "a good starting point."Although, I did start to panic a bit when I read that text. Starting point? Oh boy.
Jodi messaged me back and we agreed that I would take over the lesson for Proverbs chapter 20 when we reached it (we're going through the whole book, one chapter a day). My pastor had a huge grin on his face when I told him this morning at church. I still can't believe that I'm actually going to teach a lesson. My stomach has been fluttering since last night, though that may be due to the Girl Scout Cookies and peanut butter cups.
While I'm very nervous, I can't wait to reach chapter 20. Teaching a Bible Study lesson was never in my plans, but it was in God's and I'm sure he was laughing when I opened that message from Jodi. I can't help but laugh at my reaction with him. Was I really stupid enough to think that I knew what all was going to happen? This was completely unexpected, but it's still part of God's plan.
Tuesday, February 1, 2011
Snow Days
School had to close for today and tomorrow. It appears the current weather makes it unable for our medications to be delivered. I have enjoyed peace and quite instead of screams and yells. My cell has been cleaned and I am being allowed to bake a little tonight.
Hopefully, we will have even more snow and I will be able to go sledding with Tristin. Aric has told me his college campus has closed as well and we are both rather excited that we will get to talk to each other more over the glorious internet.
As I watch the snow fall I keep thinking of stories to write, problem is I have so many I don't know where to start. Sometimes I wonder if that is part of the flip side to writing. Either way, I would not stop writing for all the world. Nothing is completely bad or fully good. All things have a little of both.
Hopefully, we will have even more snow and I will be able to go sledding with Tristin. Aric has told me his college campus has closed as well and we are both rather excited that we will get to talk to each other more over the glorious internet.
As I watch the snow fall I keep thinking of stories to write, problem is I have so many I don't know where to start. Sometimes I wonder if that is part of the flip side to writing. Either way, I would not stop writing for all the world. Nothing is completely bad or fully good. All things have a little of both.
Monday, November 1, 2010
Catch Up
Sorry for the lack of writing, the light in the darkness was flickering for a time and needed some help to get it's strength back. Thank you Tristin and Aric for your help, Father knows I needed it for a while.
I got a great deal of work on my book done, rough draft of the 2nd one is done. It needs a lot of work before I can really do anything with it, though. I am proud that I got it written down at last. It took me long enough. :P
I spent Halloween night at home watching the new Sherlock on PBS. The night before was the town night for trick or treating. I went to Tristin's for that. We had him hanging from a gallows by a harness hidden under his shirt and Aric was a head in the "candy" container. I was the witch that killed them both. I told the kids that were old enough to be scared that the candy was in the container that had Aric's head in it (there was a hole at the bottom and in the table too, so Aric could stick his head in there while he sat in a tight position under the table). Aric would do an evil laugh and scare them. Then I would give them the candy, but for the ones that were really tiny, I just gave them the candy. Tristin would pretend to be a dummy and then say "How's it hanging?" (or something along those lines) when they walked past. A few people thought I was a statue as they went for the doorbell. We had a lot of fun, and had a lot of laughs. At the end, Tristin could not walk straight from hanging in the harness for several hours and his back was killing him. Aric's knees and neck were hurting from being cramped under the table, but we both think Tristin had it the worst. After I was out of the witch costume and Tristin and Aric had nursed their wounds, we went to my house and watched Ironman 2. We had a lot of fun and I wish Tristin would be back next year so we could do it again.
I got a great deal of work on my book done, rough draft of the 2nd one is done. It needs a lot of work before I can really do anything with it, though. I am proud that I got it written down at last. It took me long enough. :P
I spent Halloween night at home watching the new Sherlock on PBS. The night before was the town night for trick or treating. I went to Tristin's for that. We had him hanging from a gallows by a harness hidden under his shirt and Aric was a head in the "candy" container. I was the witch that killed them both. I told the kids that were old enough to be scared that the candy was in the container that had Aric's head in it (there was a hole at the bottom and in the table too, so Aric could stick his head in there while he sat in a tight position under the table). Aric would do an evil laugh and scare them. Then I would give them the candy, but for the ones that were really tiny, I just gave them the candy. Tristin would pretend to be a dummy and then say "How's it hanging?" (or something along those lines) when they walked past. A few people thought I was a statue as they went for the doorbell. We had a lot of fun, and had a lot of laughs. At the end, Tristin could not walk straight from hanging in the harness for several hours and his back was killing him. Aric's knees and neck were hurting from being cramped under the table, but we both think Tristin had it the worst. After I was out of the witch costume and Tristin and Aric had nursed their wounds, we went to my house and watched Ironman 2. We had a lot of fun and I wish Tristin would be back next year so we could do it again.
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