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Speeding Ticket

2011-06-19T22:42:00.004-04:00

I got my first ever speeding ticket. I was going 83 MPH when I should have been going 70. Bad idea. Here's what I've learned:

A while back a wise man, Mr. L was talking with me about how we view the image of Christ. He was explaining how he didn't think it was inappropriate to raise his voice when needed, such as, "HEY, don't DO that! That's STUPID! Someone could get HURT!!!" He did, however, think it was always inappropriate to use swear words or curse words when upset about something.

He then told me how other men believe that you should never raise your voice. From their point of view, you should always keep calm and peaceful. On the other hand, yet other men see it as very appropriate to use curse words at certain times, such as, "@#$%! What are you *$%@ DOING?! @#%!"

Each of the men are doing what they think is right and decent. Each are going as far to express their concern as they consider right. They are all acting as they see Christ would act. Their actions are based off how they view the image of Christ.

The swearing man's problem is that he has the wrong image of Christ. If he thought Jesus would NEVER use profane language and that swearing would be inexcusable for Jesus, he very likely wouldn't do it.

That's why I was speeding. I knew full well I was over the limit. I saw how plenty of other people did it. I didn't think my dad cared much (he does). I thought it was fine to do as long as I wasn't reckless. I could easily picture a modern day Jesus speeding. I didn't think Jesus would really care if I sped or not, no biggie.

But this speeding ticket has really made me think. I now realize now that police do care, it can be more dangerous, it does cost money, we are suppose to obey the government according to the Bible, and, very important, it is a blot against my Christian testimony. This shows me that I had the wrong image of Christ.

In reality, unless in extreme emergency, Jesus would NEVER speed, and for me to go over the limit is inexcusable. It's not a neutral point and He does care.

That's what I learned. Thanks for reading

P.S. Realizing this has made it a lot easier to go the speed limit. I don't even want to go faster. I'm just like, "Ha hah! I'm going the speed limit, move out of the way, slowpoke underachiever."

Guacamole!

2011-03-24T21:54:00.003-04:00

On Feb. 23 my rascally brother El and I went on a trip to Guacamole. When people ask how it was down there, I usually say, "It was a blast!" or "It was epic" or "It was really neat. We did so much." But that doesn't suffice. I have to go on. So here's my going on experience:

Here's a dumb map, but it sorta tells you where we were.

(You can skip this part if you want.)

This is a cool map. It shows our travels. Our plane landed in Guatemala City, and we drove all the way to Canilla (pronounced Caun-e-yah). You have to pass through Chichi to get to Canilla. This is the place that our friends called their second home, they had been there a lot and it was a really neat place. Kid's would come over to play every day. After about 5 days we went to Chichi, to do our main work, and then after 5 days we went back to Canilla. After about 5 more days in Canilla we left for Guatemala City to come back to the states.

Me and Joe put new boards on this merry-go-round at the place we were staying in Canilla. It used to be a orphanage. Some kid had had his foot go through the old rotten boards, apparently he wasn't too cool with that.

It was really fun how the little boys and girls all tried to help us put bolts on sort hardware and be with us. Really fun.

Hey, here's Joe again! We were playing soccer. As you prob know, they're big into soccer there.
Here's when we had the boards off the merry-go-round. Cerhio, the little boy pushing was my buddy, he was always asking to be jumped.
It was a lot of fun playing with the kids, but the language barrier made it frustrating some times. On the other hand, it was fun having them push you out onto the baseball field when it was your turn and motion what to do.
Me, Martin, Seth, and Joe waiting. I don't remember why we were waiting. That motorcycle right there had a big graphic of spiderman on the seat. Cartoons, Disney, and spiderman are childish up here, but down there: wicked awesome!
Esther, Joe, Deborah, Seth, Erik, and Marty. To the right of this picture were some women doing the laundry in the river.
Some friends.
You can look a couple pictures down to see the house we built, but this is aftewards. Bill the guy who sorta supervised the work in Chichi used the chain saw, pieces of wood, nails, and bottle caps to make little trucks and cell phones for the kids. They really like it!!!
Everything was done with the chain saw: plaining the boards, cutting the angles, even hammering. Just kidding about hammering.

We split our team of twelve into two groups and each built a house for a widow. We had a couple natives and Bill to help also. The house took about a half day to build since the concrete floor and the main posts had already been done. We built the house for the lady in pink and her four children (the shy little girl ran away).

That was a really cool experience. You walk into the little clan of four or so houses, just adobe mud shacks basically. Trash around, clothes hanging in the trees, sheep caged in little bamboo huts. We greet the widow, she has a little girl in her arms, the girl is a little dirty be she's playing with a cell phone. Poverty and technology, what a mix.
Market day is pretty amazing, people come from all over and transform the streets into a colorful maze of vendors.
In Canilla we were nearly the only whites and since their soooo short, I had to constantly duck under their tarps.
You could pay this guy one Quetzal (13 cents) to weigh yourself.
Market in Chichi, much more tourist minded.

Right here is a cool colorful picture of market that I accidently deleted.

Here's a repeat picture. See if you can remember the names and where the laundry women are.
Here's the buses we rode on when we weren't cramped in the little tiny 12 passenger "van" we rented.
They were really exciting buses. They drove really fast.
This is in Canilla in the kitchen playing a game.
That older guy there cut us a stick of sugar cane and sliced it into sticks for us. I really liked it.

I'm realizing that this is a pretty bad summary of the trip. I was just sorta going with the pictures. Here's some other highlights:

Sunday school. The sisters and brother that live and take care of the place were staying in Canilla have Sunday school for the children. About 70 kids come from the mountains and nearby villages. We sang fun songs, did skits, played games, read from the Bible, and the first Sunday all the kids got in a circle and each of us got to go around and pray for each of them. It was amazingly beautiful. I loved being able to go around and personally pray for each of the little kids.
Painting. We did a lot of that. I never really got any pictures because were painting. In Canilla we painted some rooms for the people there. Over in Chichi we painted a lot in a large house they were building for abused girls.
Car rides. It was always exciting. Whether in a our little Mitsubishi van where we occasionally had to get out an push it a ways up the mountain or clinging to the bed of a pickup sitting on the sides as we zoomed around hair-pin turns with huge drop-offs in the mountains. That was a long sentence.
Candy. Everybody loved it down there. You'd see old men and grandmas sucking on suckers. A whole lot of people ran little stores out of their houses where they'd sell candy and little bags of chips. On the ride back to the airport (it was about six hours or so), I found I could throw people candy into their window while were moving. It was epic. I'd throw it in bus windows, to people on the sidewalk, to a guy in a pickup bed, to some guys in the back of a cube truck. Woohoo!
Church. I can't forget church. Imagine a fairly large brightly painted building with a few rows of lawn chairs. On either side of the stage are two huge stacks of speakers turned on full volume. The lead singer has is eyes closed as is singing away. There's an middle aged guy playing the bass and sing in a microphone also. Another boy has a electric guitar and sorta hides behind the long-curly haired drummer. Two guys on the piano take about 5 to 10 minutes finding their place in the song because the speakers (which are REALLY LOUD) are out in front of them and they probably can't hear what they're playing. Oh, and did I tell you? The drummer took us possum hunting the other night.

There's so much more. If someone comments, I could write some more and maybe snag some picture from other people in the group.

The Guys-Only Camping Trip

2010-10-28T07:50:00.007-04:00

This is a guest post that my friend JJ wrote for me. I doubt he realized that this was going to be a guest post, I just needed to do a small commentary on it.

The Guys-Only Camping Trip

A bunch of us guys went camping! It was SO much fun. (See how I did that? Somehow making it uppercase changes everything.) I have lots of pictures, and I'll do my best to add miscellaneous stories in between. Last names are disguised.

It's actually been more than two weeks since the trip. Every day I've looked at my half-written post with dismay. If you're reading this, it means it's been finished! :P

Thursday
We arrived at the Coops on Thursday night, a day before the camping trip began. After playing a game, Ryan, Andrew and I went on a two-hour walk in the middle of the night. We arrived back at a reasonable hour, though: 2:30am.

Here's my first BIG MISTAKE of the camping trip. Andrew bought a bunch of snacks for the trip, and I was really hungry when we got back from the walk. I went out to the car and stuffed my pocket FULL of orange candy slices and Pringles. (FULL.) Ryan and I talked for the next three hours, and I had them sitting in my picket the entire time... waiting to eat them... they slowly spilled out of my pocket into the sleeping bag.

Friday
On Friday, we set up the tents while waiting for other people to arrive. In the late afternoon, when there was a good amount of us together, we shot skeet! I thought it would be nearly impossible, but I shot 5 of them out of the air!

Watching the skeet shooters: (Notice how everyone's squinting at the flying skeet shrapnel, I just turn away.)

The militia:

Levi: (It took me forever to figure out what I was doing when I saw this picture. I guessed that I was planning on inner-tubing with a very small inner-tube. I realized in the next picture what I was hugging.)

Jacob: (See! It was earmuffs. I repeat: I had earmuffs on my midsection.)

Ryan: (These are some really awesome pictures. The lighting and angle is really cool. See how Zack and William are leaning to the right, but Ryan is leaning to the left, looks posed. In fact, don't believe this picture guys. It's too good to be true.)

Swinging on the swings:

Now for the most memorable night of the trip. It was Friday night, nearing midnight. Jacob and I weren't sure what to do. Eventually we decided to go for a walk up the trail. We reached the area where cars were parked and noticed a blanket lying on the ground.

Naturally, we walked over to investigate. It was lying right next to a white car. As we reached down to pick it up, then car lights turned on! Unnerved, we turned around and walked away (figuring someone in the car was simply startled).

However, more of the car's lights turned on and the car began moving! We dashed away and jumped off the main vehicle driving area. You'd like the car would give us a break, right? We're just two scared kids who don't like the idea of getting run over.

The car started full-speed at us. (Okay, it was only like 5mph, but it seemed fast when you're a few yards away.) We stood up and faced our fear. As it turns out, Levi, Andrew and Mr. Coop had been sitting in the car talking! We joined the conversation. (Hah! Yeah right. More like interrupted and started your own. Believe me, we weren't talking about fried vs. roasted Amish chicken before you came.)

One thing led to another, and we all decided to go to a beautiful pier on Lake Huron (and yes, it's like 1am). After fetching Ryan C., we headed off! The lake is beautiful at night. I talked with Jacob, while Andrew/Ryan paired up and Levi/Mr. Coop conversed as well.

I found out later that the latter aforementioned group (are you still following me here? lol) was searched by the police! We left our car door open, there was a knife on the seat, loads of ammunition and guns in the vehicle, etc. No big deal. ;) (Mr. Coops and I hit off real well with the guy. Especially after I figured he was yelling at Mr. Coops and me about taking our hands out of our pockets and stepping towards the front of the squad car. And after I finally corrected myself and informed him that my pistol was indeed not loaded (I don't know how I mis-heard him so many times).)

We took this photo (among like 20 similar shots) on the pier:

We decided to head to Wal-Mart (Save Money. Live Better.(That was a good joke JJ. I like the Walmart slogan being added there.)) to get some football socks. Going shopping at 3'o'clock in the morning for sports footwear? Right. ;) We thought about going to Denny's, but Mr. Coop desired to get a few hours of sleep in before morning. (JJ failed to mention that Mr. Coops bought us Snickers which we heartily enjoyed)

Seeing if Wal-Mart had any good hats:

Epic guys photo: (I could really draw attention to something that's taking up a large portion of the foreground, but I won't.)

It did not end well.

Five guys. Four o'clock. Three hours until morning. What to do? Firstly, we decided to visit McDonalds. Upon arriving, we found out they don't open until 5:30. We had an hour to kill. Down the street was a 24/7 car wash, so we hung out there for a while, playing games, taking photos, etc.

Hanging out at the car-wash:

We FINALLY made it to McDonalds.

Saturday
When you're pulling an all-nighter, you think, "Hey guys this will be fun! Let's do it!!!!1!!!" In the morning, though, you feel awful and all you want is sleep. :P

On this morning, however, we went to Steven's football game! It was a great time. (And his team won.) I slept on the way to the game and on the way back. (Since JJ was sleeping he wasn't able to relate the memories of the little kids in the back seat repeating Tim Hawkins' Youtube lines.)

Steven is #19, the third player on the right: (His team went on to win the tournament.)

Oftentimes the most fun times of trips just happens to be the time that no cameras are around. ;) We played several incredible games of tackle-football on Friday night and Saturday. Tackle football is SO much fun... but we were all as sore as can be.

Shooting the air-soft gun: (I doubt anybody realizes how epic this shot is. It looks like I was just shooting at a dumb tree, but you can't see the leaf that I was really trying to hit.)

Some guys at our camp site: (All the little kids had sort of banded together and made their tallest to be the leader over them (red shirt) )

On Saturday night, at around 9pm, Jacob and I went into our tent and crashed. Have you ever felt pain in your sleep? Well, somehow, I got this incredibly painful headache while sleeping that wouldn't go away. I dreamed of frantically trying to go up to the Coops' house, but I'd just wake up before getting there.

Waking up on Sunday after 12 hours of this nightmare was awesome.

Sunday

Ryan and Mr. Coop boffering: (I didn't see this happening, so no comment.)

Me with their new cat, Milo. :)

Again, watching the skeet shooters:

Again, the militia:

That's what I said.

We went to the Heys in the afternoon! Playing volleyball:

"DO NOT take my picture..." - I'm sorry Manda. ;)

The guys' group picture:

We spent the night at the Cargs, (JJ failed to mention that we got pizza and candy at the Cargars which we ate while playing the xbox 360 Mr. Cargar rented for us. By going to the Cargar's JJ passed up having bean dip and watching a musical at the Heys.) and left for home in the morning. The End.

(Thanks for the post JJ! It's great!)

Dangerously long blog post!

2010-02-12T21:29:00.010-05:00

So here I sit, on my chair with my knee leaned against the desk, eating Cheetos, while being surrounded by an incredibly messy room (I'm also wiping Cheeto cheese dust on my pants before typing). To start things off we are going to have a few rules about reading this (hopefully) dangerously long blog post:

No skipping through to just look at the pictures unless you're eating Cheetos.
Concentrate on the spiritual points without distracting yourself by music, IMing, etc.
Brush your teeth after eating the Cheetos.
Leave a comment only if your nice.
Rebrush your teeth after rinsing your toothbrush because there's going to be cheese dust left on it.
Since this post is super long, you can read a little bit now and then come back to it later. Like when you read a large book or eat a foot-long sub.

This blog post should contain various highlights between the time that I last posted and now along with other things.

Amity!!!

My sister-in-law, Amanda, had her baby! And what a great baby I am. The implications of this cute, little baby Amity have changed the course of history. Because not only am I an uncle, but my parents are now grandparents, my grandparents are now great-grandparents, my great-grandparents are now great-great-grandparents, etc. I think you get the point.

It was so wonderful on the day she was born, December 23rd. (which, incidentally, is her birthday). Earlier in the day we had some of the Bid's and the A's over to our house and we were playing monopoly. Down the stairs came my dad to tell us the news that Amanda had finally had the baby. Before I even heard if it was a boy or a girl, I had jumped over the back of the couch, ran up the stairs, kicked my shoes on, and ran over to Bear and Manda's apartment without so much as a coat on. I got there several minutes before everyone else arrived in the car. I was the first boy to hold and see her besides her father (which is what I had planned many months in advance.) Enough of the blah, blah blah. Here she is!

Some nerdy human holding Amity.

Amity during her Australian jujitsu class.

Aurora!

My brother Jeriah got engaged to Aurora Gifford on Jan. 30th.. This is really great because Jeriah's been needing to get married and Aurora struck me and a really nice, sweet, fun, loving, happy, godly girl. And you can't really go wrong with a really nice, sweet, fun, loving, happy, godly girl. She lives in northern New York and that is where the wedding is suppose to be, but they'll be living here. She's the type you can make friends with easily and fun to be around. And of course, they are both very excited! Here's a picture of the happy couple:

(Hidden message.) Jeriah got a Valentine's card from Aurora [Author leaves to grab brownie and kiss Amity, Author returns.] Ok, about this letter Jeriah got from Aurora, on the return address it said, "Aurora Gifford (Bendixen)" iiiiieeeee! And then tonight, Jeriah said that she had received his Valentine's gift, and she told him, "It's a good thing I live in New York. If I was closer I'd come and hug you!" Ho ho ho!

Christian club!

Last school year I was able to attend a Christian club at the local high school. The girl that lead it last year wasn't able to this year, so for quite a while I'd been trying to start it without success. Finally with lots of God's help and after being able to get in contact with a certain boy that attended last year, it was able to be started again! Praise God! It's amazing what word-of-mouth can do!

At the first meeting there were about five or six people that came; things were a bit awkward since it was the first one, but at the second meeting it was a lot more natural and less awkward; only two people came, but I think that's because we changed the day. Overall, I'm really excited God's allowed me to take part in His work at the school!

Holy ambition!

[Author leaves to hear Bear play his new "song" which is really a dramatized recitation. Author holds Amity for a while then hands her to his brother upon which author now hears Amity's crying.]

Recently I listened to the following sermon: http://www.sermonaudio.com/sermoninfo.asp?SID=7200761145

It was so good that felt it was worth getting on a CD and buying batteries for a player and playing it on the way up to a ski trip with a van load of people. I'll try to summarize it here:

Scripture first!

Rom 15: 18-24

18 For I will not dare to speak of any of those things which Christ hath not wrought by me, to make the Gentiles obedient, by word and deed,

19 Through mighty signs and wonders, by the power of the Spirit of God; so that from Jerusalem, and round about unto Illyricum, I have fully preached the gospel of Christ.

20 Yea, so have I strived to preach the gospel, not where Christ was named, lest I should build upon another man's foundation:

21 But as it is written, To whom he was not spoken of, they shall see: and they that have not heard shall understand.

22 For which cause also I have been much hindered from coming to you.

23 But now having no more place in these parts, and having a great desire these many years to come unto you;

24 Whensoever I take my journey into Spain, I will come to you: for I trust to see you in my journey, and to be brought on my way thitherward by you, if first I be somewhat filled with your company.

For many years Paul wanted to go to see the believers in Rome (vs. 23). Paul was the type of guy that could accomplish what he wanted to do. I mean look at him, he traveled all over the known world. If he wanted to go to Rome, he could. But he couldn't. Why not? Because he had an ambition, a purpose, a driving force greater than his mere desires that controlled his way of life (vs. 22).

His holy, God-given ambition was to preach the gospel to people that had never heard it (vs.20). From Jerusalem to Illyricum, it was Paul's ambition to preach the gospel. But now that was done (vs.23). Now he could go to Rome. He had fulfilled God's purpose.

So now he was saying that he would be coming to Rome. He hoped to see the believers there and be helped by them on his way to Spain by them (vs.24). He was done with his work in these parts and it was time for him to move to his next mission.

In the same way, WE NEED TO HAVE A HOLY AMBITION. (From God, not from man and our own ideas and wishes.) We need to have a powerful God-given force and purpose that drives us to do that which we don't wish to do and not do what we want.

How do we get it? Same way Paul did. Searching the scriptures and praying for what God wishes. He had a verse from Isaiah that stood as an emblem for his holy ambition (vs. 21). Your ambition may be found in the Psalms, or Phillipians, or Jeremiah. I don't know know what it is. BUT IT'S YOUR JOB TO FIND IT. It may take months, or years, but to find a holy ambition from God, is to find God's will for your life.

As for myself, I think I've glimpsed hints of what God wishes for me. I've had fleeting thoughts of being a traveling fisher. Reaching lost people in the slums of large cities somehow seems very right to me. What about you???

Maiden China

I've been working quite a lot with Photoshop on a design I'm hoping to submit to a t-shirt company for voting. For a long while I've had the thought of a pun on the words "Made in China". I had originally pictured a Asian face on the Statue of Liberty, but when that idea fell out I drew this design:

It suppose to look like a fairly traditional Asian picture in the center portion, but then you start to see it's fake around the edges. Andyman thought it looked pretty cluttered, so then I made this:

It'll probably take several more drawings before, I submit something. Any ideas people?

Matthew Whitney

For a couple weeks now we've had a twelve year old boy from Canadia staying at our house. His mom and pop went on a trip to see relatives in the Bahamas so he came to stay with us. Come to think of it we've been having a lot of people staying at our house. The Bid's around Christmas time, my brothers (but they're always here), the Homes's (they're a family with seven children from New York that needed a place to stay before moving into their new house, great time with them; I should almost do a section on them.), Aurora, and now Matthew Whitney. [Author wonders if he should change title of section from "Matthew Whitney" to "Group Home"]

Yesterday and today Matt and I have been digging a tunnel through a snow bank in the Walgreen's parking lot with shovels and stuff. Great fun. I could say more, but I'll say less.

Ending

I'm not thinking of whole lot more to say other than, "God's really awesome and he deserves to be praised!"

Oh! Maybe I could put a few different lines from some songs that I've been thinking about:

Satisfied

Poor I was , and sought for riches,

Something that would satisfy,

But the dust I gathered round me,

Only mocked my soul's sad cry.

Halelujah! I have found Him,

Whom my soul so long has craved!

Jesus satisfies my longings,

Through His blood I now am saved.

When this Passing World is Done

When this passing world is done,

When has sunk yon glaring sun,

When we stand with Christ in glory,

Looking o'er life's finished story,

Then, Lord, shall I fully know-

Not till then- how much I owe!

That's all for now!

Something big is coming soon!

2009-06-10T00:45:00.001-04:00

(Get overly excited!)

The Altar.

2009-06-02T07:18:00.002-04:00

For the first time in my remembered history, I went forward in a church to the altar today; something I never really thought I'd do. Because we were in the second row and most of my family had already gone forward, it wasn't anything extreme or hard. But I was again convicted that I wasn't giving my ALL to God. Earlier in the day I had been convicted by God in home church and had confessed my reluctance to obey God, but this going forward was more of a "I'm going to change and obey next time He calls." type response.

This morning in home church my dad talked about the verse, Col 1:28 "Whom we preach, warning every man, and teaching every man in all wisdom; that we may present every man perfect in Christ Jesus:" When we see sin, we NEED to lovingly preach and warn the sinners. It may sound harsh, but telling someone the truth may be the most loving thing you can do. When someone has a naughty picture on the wall ask them, "Do you know what that reminds me of?"

They look at the picture, "No. What?"

"It reminds me of how the Bible says that whoever looks at a woman to lust after her hascommitted adultery with her in his heart." Then be silent. Be gentle, but bold. And yes, the verse did say to preach to every man. This same idea can be applied to all sorts of situations: people using God's name in vain, those drinking alcohol, or wrong jokes.

While my dad and the other father's were discussing this, I was agreeing and mournfully thinking how I hadn't talked to some people earlier in the week that I knew I should have. On Thursday I had been mowing at my one lawn mowing job. Down the street, I watched as a large group of teens all converged on a driveway and hung out. God wanted me to talk to them. They were, in all likelihood, going to hell when they died- and I didn't say ANYTHING. Of course I had a million and one reasons. They probably wouldn't accept me. It would be humiliating. It would be easier if it was just one or two teens, not twelve. I needed to get home before it started raining. I can just pray for them. And I even thought, "It'll be easier to just confess it later."AHHH! The wicked sin! During communion I confessed my disobedience to God, leaving it at that.

For years my dad has talked about his old friend and evangelist, Tim Lee, who pastored a church my dad attended thirty something years ago. My dad was a teacher at the church's adjoining school, and was very inspired by Mr. Lee. Lee's a different sort, in the way that he's missing both his legs. In Vietnam a 60 lb. mine blew off his legs and gangrene invaded; he barely has stumps left.

Tonight, we went to a Baptist church for to hear my dad's old friend, Tim Lee. He spoke from Hosea. Now I don't know about you, but I haven't heard a lot from Hosea. And can you believe it? I've been reading through the Bible, and this morning I read one of the chapters he spoke from! In Hosea four we read about the sin Israel was committing. Horrible wickedness. But when you look at it, you see that America IS doing the same things; "swearing, and lying, and killing, and stealing, and committing adultery"

He told several stories of the sin in America. He had been preaching at a church and a man invited him for breakfast the next morning. The man was the son of the owners of the hotel that Tim was staying at. Tim accepted, went back to the hotel, and got ready for bed. Suddenly he heard a loud knock at the door. He put his clothes back on and opened the door. A policeman was pulling a man away from the door, a man with blood streaming out of his back! It was the man who had invited Tim for breakfast. A thirteen year old had shot him. A gang of three boys had robbed the hotel and shot the woman that had checked Tim in a couple days earlier. The horror! No, America isn't far different from that sinful Israel.

And the wickedness in our country isn't caused by bad politicians or government leaders. We haven't ended up with a sinful nation because our president made it that way. Our nation is wicked because the salt has lost it's savour! Christians have thrown down their arms, become "tolerant", and let the enemy wreck havoc in people's souls. Getting new political leaders isn't going to save America; Christian's showing the gospel and revealing the sin will.

God's judgement is upon us. Not only is He judging with hurricane's, forest fires, terrorist destruction, and other physical disasters (that aren't occurring to a lot of other countries, such as Canada), but He's judging America by giving people the wicked desires of their hearts. Televangelists have sweet messages of love, but they deceive people and don't share the important truth. False prophets sound great, but their fruit is bad. Televangelists are God's curse. They aren't helping, they're hurting.

How do we change this wickedness? Hosea 10:12 "Sow to yourselves in righteousness, reap in mercy; break up your fallow ground: for it is time to seek the LORD, till he come and rain righteousness upon you." Where have YOU not obeyed God? He is telling YOU to break up YOUR fallow ground. Have you loved your entertainment more than God? Sacrifice your desires, your pride, your wishes. Don't fear man, fear God. Break up your fallow ground, that hard heart that doesn't obey willingly.

Tim Lee, preaching from his wheelchair, pleaded with us to break up our fallow ground. Let God take control and repent of our sin and unbelief. Tim asked for those that needed to repent to raise their hands. I didn't. I was thinking about all the things I had obeyed God. I was comparing myself to others instead of God's wishes. In a short while Tim Lee asked for those who had raised their hands to come to the altar. Most of my family went. I sat there. But when I remembered my disobedience towards God when I didn't share the gospel with those teenagers, I was struck with grief. Yes I had confessed my sin to God, but I hadn't decided to change. I hadn't purposed to obey God in what He called next.

Getting out of my seat, I walked to the front. Lord help me to Change! Lord don't let me stay in the same rut of refusing You when things get too scary! I repent.

And I plan to carry it out with God's help me; it's only through His grace that I can do any righteousness. Lord willing, I shall obey. (Now I've got to figure out how to approach a big group of teenagers next time He calls, AHH!)

Though in a wheelchair, Tim Lee wasn't at all incapable (you'll notice he's holding his Bible under his leg part.) He can drive, dress, and get around great. My dad talks about how he was the choice player when picking basketball teams. He was able to get off the church pew and into the wheelchair quick as a snap.

So remember: Boldly and kindly convict people of their sin. Break up your fallow ground and obey God.

IF YOU'RE AT THE BOTTOM OF THIS POST AND YOU DIDN'T GET ANYTHING FROM GOD, GO BACK AND READ IT AGAIN INTENTLY.

New digital camera!!!

2009-05-23T01:37:00.007-04:00

[If you're new here, there's more substantial, spiritual posts below (saving my hide.)]

I stopped by a garage sale and lo and behold, there was a digital camera! Not your average digital camera either, this was a FOUR mega pixel camera. One of the good old ones, not any of this new-fangled ten mega pixel junk. It had a little, round sticker that said $15. I, being the old Scrooge, asked the lady if she would take $12 for it. She told her little boy to run up stairs and ask his sister (while I nonchalantly looked at the cookbooks) . He dutifully came back and said his sister would take $12. Handing the money to the lady and saying "thank you", I picked up the camera. She handed the money to her son and told him to take it to his sister, "She'll be happy to get that." And I happily went on my way biking down the streets with a marvelous, 3X zoom camera (with in-camera red-eye fix). I spent the rest of the day experiencing new-digital-camera-overly-taking-picture syndrome.

Here's a pic. of my pop (used with permission).

A few good din-din shots.

My lovely grandma (notice the clock pendulum is out of place).

A good, well-earned yawn (notice the shirt from me.)

This is me taking a picture of Ele taking a picture of Mr. Bala taking a late picture of Barak blowing out his birday candle.

Cake!

Num Num!

I got a little of the red frosting on my lips (you prob. can't see it for the blue.)

A pose with a rose.

A normal picture of normal Barak sitting normally on a normal chair.

Here's my gift to him (notice the bows stuck to the inside of the bag to make it look like I didn't just through it all in there because I didn't bag the presents early enough.)

He politely read some cards.

Then rushed to open my present!

He looked with glee upon the gift! (Don't notice that he's holding a card.)

He found my gift! We all cheered and applauded, maybe.

And that's what happened with my camera. I'd like to show you all what the camera looks like, but I had a really hard time taking a picture of my new camera using my new camera. The lens doesn't flex too much, so I couldn't twist it back on itself.

God bless your day (or night as the case may be).

P.S. Barak turned twenty nine today.

Where?

2009-03-08T21:39:00.002-04:00

Driver's seat. Passenger seat. Back seat. In the trunk. Where is God in your life? No really, think about it. How much of your life do you let God control? Is he in the driver's seat controlling every move of yours as you make small requests of Him by prayer? Or is He making the requests to you the driver as He sits calmly in the passenger seat? Is He in the back seat occaisionaly making comments or telling directions only when your drastically going the wrong direction? Or maybe he's crammed in the trunk; only there because you know you need His salvation, but you don't really want to let him take the wheel.
Now I know in my life, it's easy to think to myself that God is in the passenger seat, or maybe the driver's seat. But here's what you and I need to think about: what do we do with our free time? Is it controlled by God? Do you or I have fun and do something to entertain ourselves, or is our first and controlling thought, What does HE want?. What about these blogs? Why do I have a blog. Is it so I can show off with witty stories and entertain myself and others, or is it to spend my time EXACTLY as God would want me to? How about our thoughts? Stop reading these words right now and think about your common thoughts. What have you been thinking about recently? Is it about God? Is He the driver, the controller, the attention-getter of your thoughts? What about your reading? Am I reading ONLY what God would want me to? This is SUPER convicting for me. What time am I reading for entertainment that I could be reading of God's choice? This is hard for me to write because I know I'm not doing it right myself. There are so many things I think about doing just so that I can get attention or be entertained.
God help us!

Here is some lyrics to a song. They are so good.

Jesus calls us over the tumult of our life’s wild, restless, sea;
Day by day His sweet voice soundeth, Saying, “Christian, follow Me!”

As of old Saint Andrew heard it by the Galilean lake,
Turned from home and toil and kindred, Leaving all for Jesus’ sake.

Jesus calls us from the worship of the vain world’s golden store,
From each idol that would keep us, Saying, “Christian, love Me more!”

In our joys and in our sorrows, days of toil and hours of ease,
Still He calls, in cares and pleasures, “Christian, love Me more than these!”

Jesus calls us! By Thy mercies, Savior may we hear Thy call,
Give our hearts to Thine obedience, Serve and love Thee best of all."

Think about this people! Where is God in our life? Passenger seat? Back seat? If you truly are letting Jesus "drive" your life, it will look like it. If you are controlled by God, people won't see a every-day "good" person in you, they will see a spirit filled person that is truly loving God. There are a lot of decent unsaved people out there, they do good things for others, they love other people, they have a type of peace in their hearts, they give to charities, they take joy in the good things of life. Are YOU any different than those decent, unsaved people that are going to hell? What image of God are you showing if YOU don't look any different. Of course there's the inner beauty thing that we have "true" peace and that we are saved from hell. But does your life show it? How are unsaved people going to know that you have the better way if you don't LOOK like it? Am I giving God a good image?

"For as the body without the spirit is dead, so faith without works is dead also." (James 2:26)

If any of you read this, I'd like you to ask yourself two questions: Is God driving controlling every aspect of my life? Could it be seen by anyone else that God is driving my life? After you ask yourself these questions, ask yourself them again.

God bless you all!
Levi

Tada!

2009-02-24T21:09:00.002-05:00

Well, I finally went and did it. I made a salvation blog! www.levib.wordpress.com !!!! If you want to go to it you can click here, here, or here. If none of those work, click here. For quite a while I thought God wanted me to make a website so that I could personally tell people the gospel. It's like a follow-up blog for people that I witness to. God has been working in my heart to witness to people, but it's hard to find a way to follow-up with them. So I'm giving people cards with the web site name on it, and hopefully they will be lead to Jesus. I'm praying that God will use this site. Please note that's not a socializing site, but a ministry type site. I'd love to hear what you think about it, and please pray that people will listen to the gospel!

Half rant.

2009-01-30T19:34:00.007-05:00

Half lyrics.

A tune I never made, but lyrics I wrote. That's what this is. I wrote this quite a long while ago while I was riding in the car with some thoughts traveling through my head. If the words are at all offensive or convicting, that's the purpose of a rant. Have fun!

Trapped, so many are. So easy. Few know it. It sets in with fury, clenching your mind. Infection sucking. Multiplied death. Whirlwind in windmill, snapping blades; it's food destroying. Young vine of the wood. Make a chair, no. Can't support a feeble man as a cane. Burn once, not twice. Ashes of no use. Disconnected bridge. Moldy meat. Cracked cart. People bored. They want entertainment. It is supplied in full. Pit fallen in by many. Videos long. Games with sound. By the lonesome. Congregating with decades of others caught by sitting in the grip of entertainment. Alive by self. Sitting with keyboard. Standing with controller. Killing a venom. Crashing with walls. Looking at women. It's a trap. Wasting all minutes of use. Slaying rightful works. Coughing out poison. Don't know what to do. Already decided to anesthetize with music. Mind numbed by addictive rock and roll. Not enough. Want more. Need less. Indulge in iniquity through sense of boredom. Relish amusement. What's its problem? Thoughts come to self. Its better than what could be done. No problems here, right? Is this YOU? Computer, phone, portable, Internet, game system, book, portable, news, pastime, this vile wheel of misfortune. It comes in varied facets. The evil jewel of worthless entertainment. Ponder your ways. Truth seek. Are you taking part? I easily can be. What is your God? That which is thought about most. Where is your heart? Caressing your computer. Replaying favorite movies. Tapping with that music. Hooked? Trapped? Handcuffed by that fake policeman of video games. If you don't think you are, try a test. Prove yourself. I dare you. Give it up. See if you can. Refrain for a week without thinking about it. Your mom made you do it? It's fake. Do it yourself. Stop your entertainment for a month. Where your treasure is, there is your heart. Fill that week with prayer. Listen to God, not me. You would rather think about which? God, or free Internet games. Do what is right, not what fells right. Grow in fruit and works. Change. Bible. Restore. Pray. Love God fully. Start immediately. Don't cheat yourself the wonderful.

I've been thinking about this idea more recently. As a product of my thinking, I think God wants me to take a "fast" from computer. I plan to unplug my monitor tomorrow and keep it off for at least a week. Hopefully I'll be able to pray, get some books read, art done, and a few other odds and ends (please note: books, art, and other things can also be needless entertainment.) If anyone else wants to fast from some form of entertainment, please do! Pray to God. Ask him what your heart's treasure is. Then tell me about it!

Also, you can read this article I wrote/compiled on t4e. It is about the validity of the Bible. I really recommend you all reading it as it was very encouraging and interesting for me to read myself. By the way, Matt wrote the part about non-contradiction. Thanks Matt!

Please remember to think and pray about the rant. What is your god/entertainment?

My preciousss

2009-01-29T17:15:00.007-05:00

A trumpet sounded. A voice was heard. A celebration was called. The rulers of many races and kingdoms met on a dark but glorious night. Ryan of the far north, Kevin and Ryan the Elder whose province lies in the north-east, maiden Charity of the north-west, and myself sought out a place to talk. After the festivities had passed, we nobles met in the great hall to discuss the future of the western kingdom. Rumours and messages had been heard from the far west country that J.J. had discovered a powerful and intriguing force. This force had driven J.J. to seek more and more until he had the most of any kingdom.

"One ring to rule them all," he shouted to the message bearers, "and in the darkness bind them!" J.J., this young ruler from the west, had summoned tens of Followers to join him. His power had increased with each one. He could now manipulate the minds of others by posting for his Followers to eyes to see.

Meanwhile, this celebration in the south had caused many alliances kingdoms to come together and resolutely plan a strategy. Ryan of the far north stamped his foot, "He has more Followers than all of us. If this powerful ring of Followers becomes too great, it could destroy Middle Earth!"
"We must stop him." Many of the nobles said forcefully.
I then proposed an idea, "We could remove these Followers from him. If he was left destitute, he could only turn to us for help." After much careful planning, it was decided. Each kingdom would do their part to remove the ring of Followers from J.J.'s hands. None knew the reaction it would bring.
That night I told J.J.'s elder brother of the plan. I knew that I could trust Andrew to help. He knew better than anyone the true power of the ring. I made an alliance with Andrew that I would let him be the best man in my wedding if I got married in the next year if he would send messages abroad to the many Followers requesting that they relinquish the power from J.J.. The following morning each kingdom did their planned part to obliterate J.J.'s ring of power. Some sadly didn't receive the messages in time, others simply disregarded Andrew's pleas, but had been done. J.J.'s power had been reduced to less than many of the other kingdoms. Amd his reaction surprised even the most brave hearted of us:

"My preciousss! We loves you!" He cried in agony. He already felt his strength diminishing, "Oh, my Followers! Come back!" I here have a secret messaging between Andrew and me:

Andrew: Levi it worked perfectly!!! He already noticed...he is devastated...He looked at your blog and said, "Oh, no. Levi has more followers than me!" lol Then he said, "Who does Levi have that I don't!" lol..hahaha this is wonderful! Don't say anything to him. Let's see how long he will go.
Sent at 1:20 PM on Tuesday
Levi: OK!!!!! Great!!
Andrew: eheheheh
When will we tell him?
Levi: I don't know.
After he finds out I guess
You're still following him!!!!
Andrew: hhhhehehehhe
Levi: Andrew!
How could you!?
Andrew: Hey!!!!!!!!! JJ must have logged in and did that
Levi: lol
uh oh
Andrew:
That boy!
Levi:
lol
Andrew:
I logged in and stopped following him in His account
tooo lol
Levi:
lol
Andrew:
He didn't know how it happened!
I just made him stop following himself again!
lol hehehe

I now have a recorded correspondence between J.J. and his brother Andrew:

JJ: liar
Andrew: That was sarcasm
not lying
JJ: you did something
you did
you haven't tried to help me at all
you just lauh
*laugh
Andrew: Well, it is funny the way your acting over some followers. Most people don't even look at anybodies blogs through that. They usually always go straight to the blogger
Am I right?
JJ: I don't care
you did something
Andrew: How would I do something?
JJ: you removed Matt
Andrew: I don't even know who Matt is?
Levi's friend?
JJ: Andrew, please
Andrew: How could I break into Matt's account?
JJ: I don't know
stoppit
Andrew: I promise I am not making anybody stop following your blog.
But I officially have more followers than you!!!!
Yay! I won!
JJ: Andrew, why did you remove Matt, and not anymore (to make me have 11... not 12..) why haven't you done anymore?
Andrew: lol...I didn't remove Matt! lol
JJ: you did something

I suppose that I'll stop the fantasy, Lord of the Rings business now (it's too hard), but here's the scoop on what happened next. I was gone from the computer most of that day, but in the evening when I came back, I found that J.J. had fewer and few followers. Here is my chat with Andrew:

Andrew:
Oh....Levi:!....lol...JJ is sooo mad that he keeps losing more and more followers...haha. I feel bad for him!
All those people that I commented on the blogs are finally stopping...hehe. He keeps researching to find what is wrong!
Levi:
LOL
LOL
LOL
Andrew:
lol
Don't give in yet though
Levi:
That's too funny.
of course
We'll probably wait about a week
I hope
Andrew:
I want to have more then him too!
Levi:
He doesn't have a clue?
Andrew:
Well, he is pretty smart...so he has hounded me
But he thought that I might have done something that will make his followers stop following
lol
But he really doesn't know!
lol
I almost started laughing that would give it away...but I held it in!
Ahhhh...did you see his post?
Levi:
Yeah!
Andrew: lol

Through the night I continued chatting with JJ and Andrew. The best part was that Andrew only had 12 followers on his website, and JJ's followers dropped until it hit 11. This of course made him think Andrew did it, but it was simply chance (whoever of you decided to keep on following JJ: Thank you!). Several times through the evening JJ got more people to follow him which brought it up to twelve. Thankfully, they were all people on my chat list and I could quickly tell them to stop following! Here is one of the many statuses JJ had on his chat:

JJ: do you wonder why it is now down to 11 again? why did it stop? why did it start again? why did Andrew not want me to go to blogger help? why has he treated it as a joke? why did it remove you right after Andy went upstairs? I have my suspicion.

And here is a short conversation I had with him:

Levi:
JJ
really
JJ:
Levi
I wouldn't mind this
but he won't say one way or another
Levi:
oh come on
JJ:
I've spent the whole day trying to fix it
Levi:
You're still thinking about that?
JJ:
Levi
swap places
Levi:
If you spent the whole day, you wasted the whole day.
lol
JJ:
I know
and he knows it
Levi:
lol
haha
JJ:
/me doesn't feel like laughing
did you do anything, Levi?

Towards the end of it all I really felt bad, so I'm glad that JJ now doesn't mind now. I had told Andrew that I wouldn't tell JJ until Andrew gave his OK. So for quite a while I was trying to persuade Andrew to let me tell JJ. Finally we both consented to tell him:

Andrew:
hush...........
Don't telll!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
DO NOT TEll!!!
Levi:
I won't
Andrew:
What's up Levi:?
Levi:
I'm going to give JJ a hint
ok?
Andrew:
What?
NO!
WHat?
Levi:
I have to
a subtle hint
Andrew:
What is it?
Levi:
to look on the blogs of the people that were following him
I'm just about to tell him
that
ok?
Andrew:
No....Just Sign OUt!
Levi:
no
I feel too bad
Andrew:
C'mon
I will tell him
Levi:
PLEASE Andrew?
Remember it was my idea from the very start
Andrew:
I'll tell him myself
Levi:
ok
make it pretty subtle
Andrew:
Tell him everything
Levi:
really?
no
have him call me
Andrew:
What do you mean?
Levi:
and we can both tell him
I think it's gone too far
ok?
Andrew:
OK...In 3 mins when I get off the phone
Levi:
Nooooo
faster!!!!!
Andrew:
I'm on the phone with Katie
Levi:
I know!
Andrew:
So wait
Levi:
hurry

After Andrew got off the phone with his sister Katie, they called me up on Google Talk and Andrew asked JJ what he thought happened. JJ said he thought it might be that his computer or blogger was messed up. He also thought Andrew might be behind it all. Finally we told him all that had happened. At first he was still miffed that we had ruined his day, but as he started thinking more about how everyone was thinking about him all day(the main point of why he wanted the followers), he started getting more and more happy. Soon he was laughing at his own things he wrote. By the way, his site originally said, "I don't need no more friends. I need more followers."

So there you have it folks! You can read more about it at http://www.jjfortheking.blogspot.com/ and I think Andrew will be putting up some exclusive footage he took on his camera http://www.andrewbiddinger.com/makeitcount/ . Also, I did slightly edit the chats, but just a very tiny ammount.

God bless you all!

The fields

2009-01-22T22:04:00.002-05:00

Praise God. Finally got this out there. My brother and me recorded the music just tonight. I did the drawings on a marker board a few months back, and I played the music on my squashbox.

Think about the message. There are many people who have had God's seeds planted in their life. Harvest them!

This sinister...

2009-01-22T16:55:00.003-05:00

(These stories are as true as possible. I'm trying not to exaggerate.)

This is a simple diagram of my uncle and aunt's house in California. The light gray box is the garage, and below that is the driveway with cars in it. The dark grey with light grey rectangle is the Master bedroom and bed. The pink room is my cousin, Danielle's.

Me and my brother, El, we're on vacation seeing our grandpa and relatives. We had been staying at my grandpa's house fifteen minutes away, but we decided to spend a few of the nights at my Uncle's (as usual). We had a terrific idea. We would scare my cousin Danielle when she came home from school. The parents were working, so when we arrived the house was empty. Perfect. Originally we were planning on something simple, but I convinced El to go full blown. He parked the car that we had been using on the other block then walked back. Meanwhile I put all of our luggage behind the bed in the master bedroom (dark grey room). I found a red marker and wrote a sinister note on a ripped piece of scrap paper. I scrawled something like, "Be careful, we are watching" in scraggly misshapen letters. I then wrinkled it and unwrinkled it to add effect. Constantly looking out the windows we formulated our plans. At the last minute we decided that El would lay down between the wall and the bed where I had placed the luggage. I frantically shuffled our many bags into the attic where they couldn't leave clues. After barely getting a plan together, they arrived!

Not only had our cousin Danielle come, but her boyfriend Richard, and her friend Erica also came! I quickly ran out the back door and through the gate in the fence (the blue mark in the diagram.) El called me on the cell phone that I had and quietly informed me of what they were doing inside. He lay on the floor looking at them under the bed. We had carefully arranged the bed skirt so he could see down the hall and into the kitchen. He whispered that they were talking in the kitchen and then they moved into Danielle's bedroom (the pinkish room in the diagram). When he told me it was safe, I ran on the outside of the fence to the front of the house. I ducked under the windows hoping that they wouldn't see me. I then quickly rang the doorbell at the front door (red mark). Running like fire, I crouched behind the parked car in the driveway (green dot).

Danielle came to the door, "Hello?" No one was there. She looked around, but didn't see anyone. She then went back into her bedroom and told the Richard and Erica what had happened. El was whispering their movement over the cell phone. Of course they were alarmed that no one was at the door. All three came to front door. I was hoping very hard that they wouldn't see me behind the car. They called out, wondering who had rung the doorbell. As soon as they left the bedroom, El dashed into the hallway and dropped the note in front of the doorway of Danielle's room. He then ran back and hid on the floor and looked from under the bed. After talking about the mysterious ring, they returned Danielle's bedroom. If I remember correctly, they didn't even see the paper! It was only when Danielle went to get a drink that they noticed the note. El kept quietly whispering what they were doing as I waited behind the car hoping no neighbors would see me.

He listened as they walked into the kitchen. A drawer opened. They walked back to the note that I'd scrawled in red. A knife suddenly stabbed the paper. "He's got a knife!" My brother whispered. All three of the teenagers were very frightened and Richard had gotten a long kitchen knife and stabbed the paper to pick it up. Through the cell phone I could barely hear them exclaiming their alarm, "Who did this?" They all started freaking out. Richard got all manly and started shouting in each of the rooms, "Where are you? Show yourself!" He swung open the front door and stepped out. He swore. Now I was scared. El had just told me that Richard had a knife and now he was walking onto the driveway! Thankfully he turned inside before looking around the cars. El informed me that they were now looking around the house and they had opened the back door to look around the yard. I could hear the fear in their voices.

I then got up and walked inside the fence in a place they couldn't see me and opened the garage door. To my surprise Derek, my other cousin, was just walking home from school himself. I tried to dart back out of the garage, but he saw me. "Very funny. I see you." He said sarcastically. He walked inside ignoring me. Danielle, Richard, and Erica were now outside looking in the yard yelling their threats. I followed Derek in through the garage door and found El sitting at the kitchen table in plain sight. We told Derek what was happening, but he was uninterested, he didn't know how scared the others were. We then called out the door to the others and they filed inside. El and me told them that we had done it all. They were really embarrassed about falling for the prank. Richard sheepishly put the knife back in the drawer. It had worked perfect! I had thought all along that it wouldn't work out well, but it worked out better than I had imagined. They said how that when they first arrived home they had been talking about how they didn't like how horror movies were so scary. They then panicked when they saw the sinister note. Wahoo! It took a while for them to realize how funny it was, but it was great.

This scary...

My friend, Clay, had asked me to help with a work project at the Character Inn. His mom and him would then drive me home at the end of the day. So me and some other friends helped out with the project. After dropping them off, we went to pick up Clay's sister Mary, who had been helping some of her friends at a horse farm. On the car ride Clay and I had a terrific plan (guess what's coming!) He had the Narnia movie soundtrack in the car and we found the scary song where the White Witch stabs Aslan. We watched the time and found that the extreme climax at about one minute and thirty seven seconds. I then hid in the very back of the minivan. We tried to think of everything. If Mary was to put her luggage in the back, I would simply try to scare her early. We rehearsed the plan several time and kept his mom well informed so that she wouldn't ruin our plan. When we stopped to pick her up, Clay and his mom got out and talked with the friends for a while. Clay was careful to get in the front seat before Mary could, and she ended up sitting in the exact seat we wanted her to. She sat in the middle passenger seat. It was dark and raining. Couldn't be more perfect.

After chatting a bit, Mary got out a C.D. she had gotten from the friends and asked Clay to put it in. He begrudgingly put her C.D. of cheerful Christian music in. This might ruin our plans! We had to have the scary Narnia music. Clay listened to the new C.D. for about two minutes before he turned it off. "That's nice." He said unconvincingly, "OK. Now that we listened to your song, let's listen to mine." He put in the Narnia soundtrack and prefaced, "Now I want to see if you notice something different in this song." He did a great job sounding natural, "Really put yourself into the music. Try to really feel like you're there." She agreed to listen. The music slowly started out somber then growing in rhythm. I watched the seconds roll away, and when there was only about thirty left, I leaned over the very back seat directly behind her. I crouched. The music reached it's climax. I sprung. With a scream I grabbed her shoulders and suddenly squeezed. For a few terrified instants she looked back at me as she herself was frantically screaming. Their mom, who had tried very hard not to be surprised, also screamed out. It took about eight seconds for Mary to recognize me. Clay and me started laughing. Mary started laughing. We laughed a really long time; Mary said she'd never been scared so much in her life. It was very funny. We kept on laughing. I still remember Mary's look of shock and alarm as she looked back at me. It was so perfect.

This day...

Enough of the prank stories (they were extremely fun doing). Now for today. After doing school and going to the gym with my dad, I went over to the high school and some stores to witness. You can read about it here: http://teens4evangelism.wordpress.com/evangelism-experience/#comment-24 . I'm hoping that I was able to plant Christ's seeds in their lives, because I didn't get too much of a response while talking.

I was looking at some verses from Isaiah. Isa 42:19 "Who is blind, but my servant? or deaf, as my messenger that I sent? who is blind as he that is perfect, and blind as the LORD'S servant? 20 Seeing many things, but thou observest not; opening the ears, but he heareth not. " These are striking verses. Think how God must feel to have his servant be blind and his messenger deaf. I began thinking of the lost people in the world. Teenagers and adults aimlessly listening to their iPods and MP3 players. They are deaf to God's word. I thought of people mindlessly watching TV, playing video games, or watching movies. They are seeing many things, but not observing the important. I then thought, am I doing the same? What things am I blind to that God is trying to show me? I've thought of myself as God's servant, am I a deaf servant? Am I truly listening to what He wants me to do? Are you blind? Deaf? Isa 42:23 "Who among you will give ear to this? who will hearken and hear for the time to come?"

God bless your day with Christ's riches!

Paul Washer

2009-01-19T21:28:00.001-05:00

This is a really great video from Paul Washer that I found recently. The video wasn't recorded the best, but it is a really good message to all of us. The Bible says to flee from lust, not fight with it. I like how far he goes into keeping yourself pure. Godly message.

Ski trip, Alliances, and a Pendant.

2009-01-17T19:49:00.003-05:00

Hello everyone. I know it's been awhile, but I think that if we all get over our differences we could settle down for something good. We could all benefit by sitting down and reading a good old-fashioned blog post (Written by Levi). So kick back, relax, and try to not hurry because that's the way things should be.
Now I know that if I was to read the above I would quickly skim through all the words and forget about it. So, (wild radio announcer voice), You better buckle yourself in! This is going to be a high-octane blog post full of desperate twist and funky words! You won't know what hit you! You're just a heart beat away from the most exciting awesome trip of your life!
Part 1
Ski trip. We (JJ, Andrew, and I) were rudely awakened by my alarm clock at 4:30. Of course we ignored it. Finally we got up, ate some sugary Cinnamon rolls, and after a long series of events we went skiing. The fun things included: riding in the Heyworth's van, skiing, riding back in the Heyworth's van. On the way back we sang songs which was really hilarious because everyone was trying to be hilarious. I really enjoyed the day. God blessed with safety. I think I liked it a lot. Enough of that. The next day Ele, Andrew, JJ, and I went to fix the Robinson's furnace. Incidentally all we needed to do was press the red button (kinda' simple). We then had hot chocolate and cookies and talked all until, Dingaling, the cell phone rang. I had scheduled to go to Matt's house. Matt's mom is in a prayer group with my mom, so I met him from that. We eventually got over there, started a game, and then, Dingaling, the cell phone rang. We had scheduled to go to the Johnson's game night and ice skate time. I really enjoyed that. I was just sad I hadn't dressed up in my suit and tie like everyone else (not the girls, of course). Enough of that.
Part 2
I was looking at some verses in Isaiah that talked about God not wanting Israel to join in an alliance with Egypt. The Lord is saying that He is a better force to trust in. Isaiah 31:1 "Woe to them that go down to Egypt for help; and stay on horses, and trust in chariots, because they are many; and in horsemen, because they are very strong; but they look not unto the Holy One of Israel, neither seek the LORD!" The Lord is warning the Israelites and telling them not to form this alliance. Do you understand the picture? Now, as many have noted before me, Egypt represents the Flesh in the Bible. Just like the Israelites in the promised land represent Christians, Egypt represents the flesh. So it got me thinking. It's like God was telling the Christian's to not form an alliance or agreement with the flesh; even when it was for a good purpose. What ways have Christians formed an alliance to bring about a good purpose? I think of fleshly rock music that is appealing to the flesh and it also talks about Jesus. It may serve a good purpose, but it is fleshly. What way's do you, do I, agree with fleshly things to "serve a better purpose"? I hope you guys understand what I'm trying to say, if you don't, please leave a comment.
Part 3
I was thinking of writing a on-the-spot story. Something really short. Here goes!
The trees in the dark forest creaked against each other in the harsh winter wind as the moon's rays barely forced its way through a small slit in the clouds and rested upon a small boy. In his hands was a snow shovel; on his head was a thick knit hat, and in his heart was a warm memory. He stood below a tree staring through the black branches into the somber light of the moon. The snow lay on the forest floor spread out in all directions; like the flattened cloth of a beautiful dress. Giving a small sigh, the small boy gripped his large shovel and continued scooping the snow down the path. As was his lot, Soldin, was one of the many boys to chosen for the task. It was not necessarily a disliked job. The occasional traveler would often give them recompense for their service, but the lack of a home and shelter would often wear upon the small people. Soldin grunted as he lifted a large scoop of snow off the brick path. The walls of snow grew high on either side as more was heaped upon them. He looked as a silvery object fell from the load and landed on the snow in front of him. Soldin's mitten reached forward and picked up a small chain. Connected to the chain was a silver heart. Happy of his find, Soldin carefully set his shovel aside and held the pendant to his eye. He was struck with the fancy that when his breath touched the heart, it glowed. Soldin drew in a deep breath and exhaled onto the now glowing heart. Suddenly the heart exploded into a thousand shining shards cast about the ground, but in his hand, he held a creature. Soft grey fur covered the small creature's body. Its enchanted eyes looked into Soldin's. The two stared at each other as the creature began to purr. The creature's breathing grew louder and louder until it blow a cool breath into Soldin's face. He was gone. Soldin, the creature, and the pendant shards had left. The silent shovel lay against the bank of snow.

For lack of better words:

2009-01-14T10:30:00.000-05:00

Hi.

More coming soon.

The mailman.

2009-01-02T22:43:00.005-05:00

Ok. I know this post might look really big, but don't be deceived, it is. This is one of the short, short stories I wrote during the month of November. I've finally got it edited to some degree. Whoa, and I just noticed that it doesn't have tabs at the beginning of new paragraphs. I don't know, there might be tabs when I post it. Wow, this is suspenseful. I guess I'll give it a shot and if it doesn't work I won't do anything about it.
The spiritual point at the end is slightly...um...yeah. So if you think of a better message feel free to do what you think best. God bless you all!
[I also just noticed that when I did copy and paste it didn't put any of the italics in. So you can feel free to liberally apply italics wherever you think it looks best. [I just looked over it some more and noticed that I really need the italics, so I'm going to put it in.]]

A businessman walked past a newsstand. The owner, chatting with his friend, didn’t notice as the businessman reached down and hastily picked up a paper. The businessman quickly strode to his car and opened up his door. As he tried to lift his briefcase onto the passenger seat the inside section of the stolen newspaper slipped out onto the ground. Pulling out into the street and joining the traffic the businessman’s thieved newspaper section lay forgotten on the ground.
An hour later, a red car swerved to miss a j-walker, rolled across the newspaper, whipping it into the air. The sheets of paper sprayed into the traffic and were swept by the wind like a child swung by their arms in circles. Several sheets were carried by the wind towards the far sidewalk where a bum searched through the garbage can. He snatched a few pieces placing them flat under his shirt for warmth. The rest of the papers still continued to move from time to time with the wind. One flew upon the windshield of an elderly driver, scaring her. A young mailman picked up yet another, and was about to stuff it in a trashcan, when he saw the heading. It was an interesting title so he unknowingly stuffed the stolen newspaper into his pocket and moved on. His next destination was a poorer ghetto type area with many boxes.
A large tenement house with several addresses was his first stop. The urban air echoed with noise. A dog barked. A baby cried. The mailman packed his bag as two kids rode by on their bikes. After swinging his bag onto his shoulder he marched up the steps to building 450. He swung open the door and crossed over to the mailboxes. They were arraigned as a flat metal panel with locked partitions. After setting down his mail bag he took the keys from his side and opened all eight boxes. He started putting mail in as a man with a dirty white tee shirt opened up the outside door and approached him. The mailman watched him from the corner of his eye but tried to ignore the greasy man standing beside the mailbag. The mailman uneasily continued putting the mail in their respective boxes. He was about to place the mail into box 8 when the heavy man behind him spoke in a strong voice, “Give it to me.”
The mailman paused, “I’m actually supposed to put it the box.” He looked up calmly, “If you got your key…”
“Just give it to me. I don’t have time for this.” The large man took a menacing step forward.
“I’m sorry sir, but I’m not allowed to give the mail out of this box unless you’ve got the key.” The mailman stood up holding the mail for number 8, when suddenly the sweaty man grabbed him and swung him around.
“Give it to me, I said.” He shouted in the mailman’s face. “I don’t care about no key.” With a quick thrust the man grabbed the small can of pepper spray from the case on the surprised mailman’s belt and held it threateningly in front of the mailman’s face. “I know your little tricks.”
The alarmed mailman quickly thrust the mail from number 8, “Ok! Ok!” He said sourly. The large man grabbed it and shoved the mailman onto the floor, and then stormed out of the building. The stunned mailman lay there for a second then stood up. I've got to call this in. He ran to the door and looked through the small window to tell if he could see the offender. Not seeing him, the mailman quickly grabbed his cell phone and proceeded to call the local post office.
“Hey Susie, this is Paul.” He said, still shaken, “Give me Bart would you please? I just had someone threaten me and take my mail.”
“Oh Paul! Are you all right? Did they take all of it?” Susie questioned with panic.
“No, just one person’s. I’m fine.”
“Are you sure? Did they hurt you?”
“I’m fine. Is Bart there?”
“Yes, but honey, this is so scary. I never knew this job would be dangerous.”
“It’s all over. I’m fine. Can you transfer me?”
Susie was still wound up, “Oh fine.”
“Thank you.” Paul waited a few seconds.
Bart answered, “You got your mail robbed Paul? Susie thinks you’re hurt.”
“I’m fine, really. A guy came in the door of the apartment building and forced me to give him the mail for number eight. I’m at 450 Ryan St.” Paul wiped the sweat off his forehead.
“Do you want me to report it to the police?” Bart asked him.
“I don’t know. It’d be a lot of trouble and I doubt they’d be able to do anything. They’ve got better stuff to do.”
Bart sighed, “Well, be careful. I guess there’s not much else we can do about it. You want your wife back on the line?”
“Sure.” Paul waited on the line again.
Susy came back on, “Paul? Are you sure you’re not hurt?”
“I’m fine honey. Don’t worry.”
“Are you going to take the rest of the day off?”
Paul rolled his eyes, “Susy, I’m fine. Besides, you know how much I need to work. We really need the money. That’s the only reason we’ve got you working in the post office.”
“Ok, Paul. But be really, really careful.”
“I’ll try, sweetie. Bye.”
“Bye.” She said. Paul closed his cell phone and put it in his pocket. Let her not be too worried, God. He grabbed a pen from his pocket and tore off a piece of the newspaper page he’d grabbed earlier off the street. He wrote, “Sorry, someone stole the mail from me. – Your mailman.” On the shred of newspaper and dropped it in the mailbox. After locking each of the mailboxes he lugged his bag of mail back to the door. By now his senses had calmed, but he still took a careful look before he stepped outside. Walking down the small pathway he noticed his bag had been disheveled by the action. The guy’s foot must have kicked it. He stopped on the sidewalk next to the road and leaned over straightening the mail. I sure don’t like it when it jumbles up. He tried to sort out the addresses, but it was messed up more than he expected, so finally he squatted down and sorted through the papers. Paul always like everything in order, it made the job run smoother.
Suddenly, from behind, he heard a loud screeching. A car was coming straight at him! He screamed. With barely time to think, he dived flat on his stomach. The car’s tire barely missed him as the car scraped to a halt grounding out on the curb. The driver’s door immediately swung open, “Are you all right?” the woman driver yelled. He tried to move, but the car had rolled onto his jacket, barely missing his arm. A woman’s head popped into view below the bumper shrieking, “I am so sorry! Are you hurt?”
“I think I’m fine.” Paul grunted.
“I am so, so sorry! I must have dozed off, I looked up and I was driving straight at you!”
Paul struggled out of his loose jacket and started to crawl out from under the car, “You barely missed me.”
“I am so sorry.”
Paul got out and lifted himself up on the bumper as the lady tried to help him up, “I’m Ok. Don’t worry about it. Your wheel just rolled over my jacket so I couldn’t move. That’s all.” He sat on the hood of the car and caught his breath. “Whew. That was a close one.”
The middle-aged woman crossed her arms nervously, “I feel really bad. Are you sure you’re all right?”
“Yeah, accidents happen. I’m truly fine.” He said, “Oh, but do you think you could back up a bit?” He stood up looking around at the driver’s wheel, “My jacket’s still under the wheel.”
“Of course! I am so, so sorry.” She worriedly waved both her hands and ran to the vehicle.
“Hey, no problem. You can just go wherever you were going and I’ll pick it up. No need to cry over spilt milk. Really, its all right.” After she moved he picked up his jacket and dusted it off. Paul gave a big sigh and slowly wiped his face.
“Again, I’m so sorry for that.” She called out her window. He waved and then turned around so the lady would know she didn’t need to stay. I am definitely not telling my wife about this. Susie has enough to worry about already.
He picked up his mailbag and went to the next house. The mailboxes were next to the doors on this street so he had to walk up to the front door of each house. The bushes of this house were in needed trimming, but at least the lawn was mowed. Paul stepped onto the gray concrete porch and was about to put the mail in the box when, Bang! The dog slammed against the closed screen door barking ferociously. Paul dropped the mail and jumped back. The owner yelled at the dog, “Rex! Stop barking! Rex! Rex! Get back here.” The dog continued to bark. Upon noticing the door was securely closed Paul cautiously picked up the mail and placed it in the box. He heard the owner still yelling to the dog as he walked towards the sidewalk. Paul cringed as he heard the man coming and hauling the dog back shutting the wooden door.
Paul stopped for a second on the sidewalk. What in the world is happening? First a man robs my mail; second a lady accidentally barely misses running me over, and then this vicious dog. It’s crazy. He readjusted his shoulder strap and crossed the street to the next house. It was a double story building with a separate apartment rented out on the second floor. An old wooden stairs led up to the upper living quarters along the side of the lower story. He walked up to the front door: it had a small wooden sign saying “Judsen’s”. Mounted to the wall was a mailbox that he put the envelopes inside. The second mailbox was at the top of the stairs. Even though Paul had had the mail delivery job for over two weeks he still was hesitant of the wooden stairs. They always looked like they weren't too strong. Paul gingerly held onto the handrail and walked up. Reaching out to put the mail in the box he gave a sigh; they didn't break, this time. It happened. With a loud cracking, the step gave way! Paul madly reached out and held onto the step above him as he fell through. Suspended several feet from the ground he frantically grasped for the higher step. With his legs waving his hands slipped. His back scraped on the board behind him as he hit the ground and lost his balance. The sharp gravel pressed his hands. He lay there for a second. This can’t be happening. Paul took a big breath. Could things get worse? He pushed himself up and picked up his bag. I’ve got to finish my work and go home. Quickly. Paul snatched the proper mail of the ground and threw it on the broken stair. They had better understand. I’m not going to write another note of apology today.
He hurried off to their neighbor. Toys lay scattered around the yard. The normal urban house had a covered porch with a low wall around it. The bricks in the pillars were coming loose. It looked like someone had recently tried to repair the cracks with some caulk, but it was falling off. Paul looked at the dilapidated brick arch above the stairs, it had duct tape and boards strapped to it. Paul tentatively walked up the stair looking at the loose bricks above him. Wouldn’t it fit the day if one of those fell on me? Enough has happened already. He cautiously snuck past the arch still staring straight up. A skateboard lay on the top step, Paul, still looking above, didn’t see it. He stumbled, reaching out for the pillar, but the brick he grabbed on to came out of its place. Paul and the brick landed with a loud thud on the porch. Don’t let the whole thing fall! He thought wildly, squirming around to look up. Nothing moved. Paul let out his breath. A voice came from the front door, “Are you all right? Hey! I just fixed that brick.” Paul looked up to see a burly man with a large stomach staring down at him.
“I’m sorry. But I tripped on the skateboard someone left there.”
“Must have been one of the kids.” The man kicked a stuffed toy aside, “ They leave their toys everywhere. Can’t get them to pick up nothing. Spoiled kids.”
Paul got off the ground and onto his feet for the fourth time that day, “Tell them I didn’t appreciate it.” He said.
“Tell their mom.” The man commented, “She’s the one who spoils them rotten. If I ever try to get them to do something, ‘Oh no! Don’t kill my babies!’” the large man imitated moving his body around.
Giving the man his brick, Paul broodingly stepped off the porch. What is happening? He walked to the next house. How could this all be happening to me on the same day? I’ve never fallen or tripped this many times. Did I get cursed? I’m going to have to be really careful, like Susie said.
He hesitantly went from house to house putting mail in the boxes. Along with the usual mailman problems of mixing up letters, dropping envelopes, and wrinkling magazines Paul was besieged with hardships. A crazy squirrel ran straight at him and nearly bit him; of which Paul barely kicked it out of the way. An irritated woman who had been sleeping on her front porch got angry when Paul woke her from her nap. He then accidentally kicked over her flowerpot, but gave five dollars to the woman to pay for the broken pot. A low hanging tree branch hit his head. His noisy cell phone rang with a wrong number right as he was trying to be quiet near a resting baby; the little girl immediately screamed with fright. Along with stepping in numerous piles of dog waste and wet puddles, Paul had quickly become disgusted with his day.
Paul needed to fill up his mailbag again and since it was lunchtime he decided to eat the sack lunch his wife had packed him. He was about to open up the back door to put his mailbag back when he saw a big dent above the bumper. Aw man. He felt with his hand along the long deep scrape in the paint. How’d this happen? He then remembered the car that had nearly killing him. The lady’s door must have swung open and hit it. Won’t the postal company be happy about that. Paul feebly rubbed his head trying to think of what to do. Oh well. That’s that. Tough luck. He smiled with satire. Tough curse. He opened up the driver’s door to climb in, but his foot slipped; his shin hit the step.
Paul nursed his throbbing leg for a couple minutes before starting on his sandwich. He turned on the radio. Leaning back, he closed his eyes and took a hefty bite of the chicken breast sandwich. Abruptly he felt something in his throat! A chicken bone had lodged in his throat. He could feel it’s sharp point. He tried to swallow, but couldn’t! He panicked, slamming his chest against the steering wheel (which responded loudly). The bone was coughed out of his throat and he took a large breath. The pain in his throat still hurt, so he gulped down a large bottle of water. A large amount accidentally spilled on his clothes. No! He looked down at his wet lap. And today was the first day that I forgot to bring napkins. “Why is this happening to me?” He broodingly said allowed. He searched around for a napkin without success. He then remembered the newspaper that he’d stuffed in his pocket that morning and tore off the unwanted section of advertising to use as what little it could. This is a really rotten day. What next?
A bullet smacked through the windshield. Paul immediately crouched down as the front window shattered to pieces. This is eternally crazy! Paul screamed inside his head. Another bullet whizzed through the window inches from his head as it hit the dashboard sending a small shower of sparks his way. The two bullets had come from somewhere behind Paul, shooting through the open driver’s window and hitting the front dash and window. I have to get out of here! Paul grabbed his keys and threw it into gear. Keeping his head low he slammed the gas pedal. A loud bang sounded as another bullet blasted into the rear section of the mail truck. He glanced in his mirror. A ways behind him a black car turn onto the street that Paul was on. Paul floored the car and sailed around the corner into a larger street. Many shops were lining the road and he was hoping the antagonist wouldn’t shoot in public. Paul weaved in and out through the cars. Who is shooting at me? What do they want? The stoplight ahead turned red and he slowed down. They’re catching up! Paul swerved the mail truck into the parking lot of a grocery store, veering around shopping carts and their frightened pushers. “Get out of the way!” He shouted breathlessly through his broken windshield. Exiting the parking lot through the other exit he proceeded into moving traffic. He again pushed the gas pedal down, going as fast as he could. Where is the car? He strained to look back in his mirror. The black car was just behind him about to pull onto the road from the grocery store parking lot. Paul didn’t want others getting hurt, so he looked for a side street with fewer people. A small residential street with less traffic was to his right. Perfect! A semi had just pulled between him and the black car and was momentarily blocking the shooter’s view. He was just about to turn onto the side street when he saw an elderly lady pushing a shopping cart across it. No! He didn’t turn. Why’d she have to cross? In the distance he saw another road on the right, but the black car was quickly gaining. What am I going to do?
Unexpectedly, a car pulled out from a store, right in front of Paul! Since the windshield was broken Paul had a very hard time seeing; the wind harshly blew in his eyes. Paul veered into the lane beside him while the other car swiped his rear bumper. The mail truck jerked to the side as it was hit; Paul nearly lost control. Looking back in his mirror, Paul hoped the other driver wasn’t hurt. Spotting his turn, Paul yanked his steering wheel screeching onto the other road. Made it! At the last second he saw the chasing black car also turn onto the road following the destitute Paul’s truck. Paul was still driving fast, trying to think of a way to escape.
All at once his truck started sputtering. It surged forward then slowed down. Oh no! What’s happening? He looked at his gas gauge. It was below empty. I have to get out quick! Paul swerved into an empty driveway and jumped out of the car. He ran into the person’s back yard hopping a chain link fence. Paul stood in a narrow grassy ditch with small fenced in yards on either side. He looked around for a place to hide. With a loud crash he watched in shock as the black car roared up the driveway next door and smashed through the fence into the ditch. Paul ran as fast as he could in the other direction. The black car slammed into reverse and drove straight at him. Oh man! What am I going to do? God if you there, please help! Paul saw a split in the fences. He turned the corner and ran. It was a dead end! No! The fences on either side were too tall to climb over. He ran towards the buildings ahead. The black car was too close behind for him to try to turn around. Paul wildly looked around for somewhere to hide. The black car would be there in seconds. Ah! He ran behind a short evergreen hedge and fell to the ground. The car came to a halt. The engine shut off. God please help! He heard the door open and close. Paul’s heart was pounding violently. The click of the gun sounded sharply in his ears.
“You’re a dead man.” The words echoed around the brick walls of the alley.
Paul cringed. The air stiffened with silence. He waited. What should I do? God help. Please! He heard footsteps. They were coming near.
“Get out.” He heard the bad-tempered voice. What am I going to do? His mind screamed. Paul lay still, unsure if it was a ploy to get him to come out of hiding. The commanding voice said it again. “You, in the bush, get out!” Paul slowly turned his head. A big man stood three yards away. In his hands was a shotgun. Paul silently got up onto his feet. His mind was racing. God if you are out there. I need you now!
“Stand against the wall.” The man continued.
Paul, as if in a daze little by little turned and looked at the brick wall. He stepped towards it. He took another step. Suddenly it struck him. A thought had popped into his mind out of nowhere. The newspaper! He took another step. Why the newspaper? Another step. When did all these problems start? The answer rang through his mind. After I got the newspaper. He’d reached the wall.
“Face me.” The man said threateningly.
Paul slowly started to turn around. Paul acted as slow as he could to have more time to think. I got the newspaper. I was robbed. After I ripped the newspaper for the note, I got run over by a car. I used the newspaper as a napkin and then I got shot at. Paul looked as the man raised the gun. I’ve got to get rid of it! Paul slowly reached into his pocket. Careful. Careful. The man hastely looked down the sights and placed his finger on the trigger. NOW! Paul whipped the scrap of newspaper out of his pocket tossing it away. Everything stopped. The paper twirled in a circular path, swaying gently from side to side. It tenderly touched the ground.
“Oh, never mind.” The man lowered his gun, “I thought you were someone else. You look nearly the same.”
“Please don’t shoot me.”
“I won’t. Just a second ago I thought you were someone else. I just now saw that you weren’t the person who I thought you were.” The man stood awkwardly, “Man, I don’t know what’s a matter with me.” He swung his shotgun onto his shoulder. “Don’t tell anyone about me.” The man abruptly walked back to his car.
Paul waited for his nerves to calm. Thanks God. He watched as the black car drove way. After waiting five more minutes Paul he took one last look at the newspaper and then got to his feet and walked back to the mail truck. He asked the driver of a passing car for some gas and then finished his mail route. That night with his wife, for the first time, Paul gave thanks to God before dinner.
There can be objects in this world that cause us to struggle or bring unwanted consequences. Sometimes we don’t even know why they do it; maybe they have connotations with something bad from the past. But God knows why we are being troubled. God will lead us to the answers. I know it sounds a bit of a stretch to say that a stolen newspaper could bring misfortune. But isn’t everything in the spiritual world a bit of a stretch? That’s why it’s not the “natural” world. The Bible says how when Achan took money and riches that God forbade it brought great curses upon Israel. There have been people who have had terrible problems in their lives, their problems have continued until the individual gets rid of certain objects (objects from past wrong relationships, statues of tribal gods, etc.) Even if we take the illustration out of the supernatural there’s a point; because there are often things that somehow relate to sin: a book, a magazine, maybe a movie. Allowing those objects in our possession can affect us. They very possibly can open a door to the enemy. Be careful and listen to God. Ask him, like Paul did, what He wants you to do. Maybe, if you ask Him, he’ll tell you something you either need to add to or take away from your life. In fact I’d be pretty sure there’s something he wants different in your life. In my life.
Ask Him!

The End.

Planting seeds!

2008-12-29T19:12:00.002-05:00

Today I went for a bike ride/witness time. It was great to do. Praise God people were out so I could talk with them. You can read what happened over here. If you so desire to.

But if you don't desire to, you can read something here about my awesomest Christmasest everest. Do whatever you like. You can read one or the other, or, if you are daring, both. Feel free to spend your time how you want to. [Thinking of that. You don't know if the person you'll see in the grocery next week will live out the day. They could die in the night. Matter-of-fact YOU don't know if you'll live through the night. Don't you think it'd be a good idea to make sure that person at the grocery is going to heaven before they die before you die? It's a scary thought, and it should be. You don' t know if either of you are going to live another 24 hours. So why don't you make the best of it by spending your time wisely while making sure they're safe.] Whoa, that was quite the little blip. I wonder where that came from.

The Awesomest Christmasest Everest.
This Christmas we headed on over to my brother's new in-laws, the Biddingers. We had a great time playing games, opening presents, eating, wrestling (more details later), snacking, taking walks, doing JJ's paper route, reading the scripture, chewing gum (I didn't actually), and many other greatly fun things. We left fairly early on Thursday and and returned on Sunday night. The older children who are normally in college were there for Christmas and all. So that was a lot of fun. We ate lots of great food and enjoyed being family.
About the wrestling. It was terrible. I was horribly beaten when Andrew was holding me and crushing me and all sorts of awful stuff. My elbows still hurt from all of the painful carpet burns I got. I didn't do very good wrestling. Wait!! Excuse me. My mistake. I did awesome wrestling! I really showed Andrew who was boss. Haha! I beat him so stinkin' bad that he was forced to cling to worser things. He started pulling my hair, biting, spitting, pinching, tickling, and a bunch of other stuff. Man I beat him! Wow that was good. I can still show you the battle wounds from how fierce I was (on my elbows).
We also had church at their house. I was largely responsible for that, of course. I eloquently convinced the parents to offer the Biddenger home for church. And they fell for it! I put a lot in about how suffering is good and all great things that have happened have also had many hardships and seemingly important excuses. I told them the whole "All great triumphs have had great trials." bit. It worked out great. At first I didn't think I could pull it off, but, Praise God, they decided to have church. So some other families came and we had a great time singing praises and reading the Bible. I didn't have my accordion, so I was forced to sing the whole time (which was good).
Now I don't know, but I would presume that JJ will soon post about the Christmas time. He likes doing that kind of stuff. So you may be able to read more and see pictures.

I might also add that along with an awesome shark from Andrew and a sweet set of markers from JJ I also got a very nice Scofield study Bible and a great baseball glove (actually a softball glove, but that sounds like a softy and you know what I mean).

I hope you all had as great a Christmas as mine, but I know you didn't. So, God bless!

Every day is Christmas!

2008-12-11T20:37:00.004-05:00

Everybody wins!
Well, not everybody, of course. But I did win NaNoWriMo along with a boatload of other people. It was pretty tough getting 50,000 words into November, but it worked out in the end. I'll probably post some stories here after I edit them (which reminds me, I should probably start editing.) I wrote about five short stories dealing with my past hurts that I still have grudges about. Just kidding. They are basically about abnormal events happening to people with spiritual reasons and messages at the end.

There is a lot to be thinking about spiritually. I'll give a short synopsis on my thought-life:

Praying with out ceasing is something the Bible tells us to do (1Thes 5:17). It is not very often I get to that point. Lord help me grow closer.
"Every Christian is either a missionary or an impostor." ~Charles Spurgeon. I've been reading in One Thing You Can't Do In Heaven about evangelism. It's been awhile since I've gotten out there and witnessed; tonight I might be able to!
I read a short book, Music, Does It Make Any Difference?, it was written in 1970 and had some funny words. Instead of bands and songs it was combos and numbers. It told some interesting facts and ideas about music and how it relates to the Bible.
I've been thinking about the verse about seeing through a glass, darkly (1Cor 13:12). If we did try to understand everything in the world we could end up in a real bind. Imagine how hard some things would be to think through. That may be why God had mercy and didn't tell us everything by writing it in the Bible. Unsaved people have a very hard time explaining some things, but we have this little supernatural God box that we can put those mind-wrenching mysteries into. It brings peace.

I will try to get a story up soon. I may put it in sections. We'll see.

God bless and goodbye!

I'm back.

2008-11-08T01:13:00.002-05:00

I don't know if I'd go so far to say, "I'm back for good." but I'd definitely say "I'm back"

I'm doing a lot of stuff of late. I've been learning to witness and share my faith (some really great experiences). I've also been working with my brothers, doing school, and accordion practice. Recently (as of November) I started a month long marathon for writing a novel. There's this crazy challenge out there to write 50,000 words in the month of November. And there's these crazy people out there who actually take the challenge. And there's this crazy guy who wrote this message that took it. I've got a full plate, so to speak.
You can check out this website: www.teens4evangelism.wordpress.com Or you could go to this website: www.therebelution.com and check them out (I highly highly recommend them). Depending on which one you go to, you'll see some awesome graphics that I did. I'll let you guess which one.
If your interested in any of the things I mentioned, or anything else for that matter, drop me a message (I suppose that would include everybody if you were to be technical).

That's all for now.
God bless you with Him,
Levi

(There, I did it, now you can comment on my fantastic arrival JJ.)

Hi

2007-10-27T16:10:00.000-04:00

Just wanted to let you know I made a post.
I've been thinking lately about a few verses. Rather than writing a 27 and 1/2 point sermon that no one would read, I decided on giving you the references and it would be more interesting to look them up yourself. Eze. 15(The chapters short), Ps. 51:12-13, and 2 Cor. the last chapter verse 10. If you go to the references in order you'll see the uselessness of people who trespass then how when we have joy in our salvation we will convert those useless people, lastly we need to edify them not destroy them. It's good stuff if you pray and think about it, though I doubt anybody read through all this post.
Good bye.

2007-10-14T21:17:00.000-04:00

For the lonely person that happ'd upon my site: Hi.
For the person the regularly checks my site: Get a life.

Hello everybody! Hello everybody! Hello everybody!

I got a program off the internet to do that echo effect. Pretty sweet stuff.
Well,...Well,...Well, I had a good day today. I got to go make my bed and then get into it.

God bless, over and out.
(I was going to put some pictures on, but they be gone.) Fawn. Autobahn. Flan. Lawn. Non.

87

2007-07-29T21:25:00.002-04:00

Can you believe it?! Right here in our town this establishment which is the emblem of family, a picture of community and friendship, is now advertising Smoke for Free! What a disgrace to our hearth and home that this so called "Family restaurant" is now offering free smokes. My brother says they are doing just the opposite, but how can that be true when it says right on their own sign "Smoke Free"?
No one should ever smoke for any reason! And that's final.

I was working on a story. I was telling one of the Moms in our church that I wanted to write stories that have twists. I was saying how it's kind of hard to think of them for stories. She said I should ask God for good ideas in stories. So I did, and I believe He has given me some. Praise God! God bless all of you.

Hi, my name is 87. That’s what it says on my shoulder. I used to be 88, but 87 left. I don’t know where the old 87 went to. Every Thursday the Caretaker stamps my name on my shoulder. The Caretaker is kind; he gives me a pill before he stamps me. It makes me not to hurt so much. The kind Caretaker doesn’t like loud noises. If anybody cries he gives him a pill.
I can’t tell you what I look like. I haven’t looked in a mirror for a long time. I think I have brown hair, I can kind of tell when I’ve pulled my hair out. Sometimes I stare at the tips of my fingernails; they are a bizarre color. I am always dressed in a red suit with a gold colored zipper down the front. Attached to the zipper is a red and black tag that says 87. I don’t have shoes. Neither do the other men.
The kind Caretaker has shoes. He wears a red smock. He has other clothes on underneath. I can tell he does because I see them next to his ankles. I don’t think he knows that I can see them. He also has a red wristwatch that he looks at often. Sometimes when I have been crying and he’s given me a pill, he looks at his wristwatch until I stop crying.
I go to Class every day. The kind Caretaker teaches me and the other men. He teaches us many important things like; the Caretaker is kind because he gives me pills, red is a beautiful color, or I have strong feet so I have no need of shoes. The kind Caretaker also teaches how do things such as; being still and quiet as I watch a clock. I like watching the clock. It makes me feel peaceful. I rejoiced when we got a new clock. It has red numbers. Red is beautiful. We got the new clock after 83 got angry and broke the other one. I was scared when he did that, but the kind Caretaker gave him a pill.
The kind Caretaker also teaches me how to write about the things I imagine in my mind. The kind Caretaker says I have a superior imagination. He liked my story about a young girl in a red dress who was content all day to merely count her toes on her bare feet. Every day the kind Caretaker commands me to write my thoughts. I have many thoughts to write about. I enjoy writing my thoughts and stories.
While we were supposed to be watching the clock the old 87 used to distract me. He would talk to me by making letters with his hands.
Before the old 87 left he told me that we were in a test, a test on humans. He said that I am a human. He said that humans should not have to be tested if they don’t want to. He said most humans don’t have tests done on them. He told me that all humans outside of this structure do not have tests done on them. He told me to get out of the structure. He told me to be courageous.
One day the kind Caretaker saw him making signs.
I don’t know where the old 87 went.
The room I live in has a bed and a chair. It has red concrete block walls. With a wire I broke off the bed I scrape the cracks between the blocks every night before I sleep. The cracks I scrape are behind the bed so that the kind Caretaker doesn’t see them. The old 87 said I shouldn’t tell the kind Caretaker what I am doing because he is testing me.
I have been making the cracks larger for a long time. I can now remove two blocks, but I keep them in place so that the kind Caretaker doesn’t see. Sometimes I cry loudly because it takes so long to loosen the blocks. The kind Caretaker gives me a pill.
A few days ago I looked through the hole. I saw a dimly lit red hallway. The light would move around on the walls and floor. Someone walked past. They had shoes. I quickly slid the block back in place and lay in my bed pretending to be asleep. No one came.
The former 87 didn’t tell me how to get out of the structure, but I will try tonight. I lay in my bed and waited for a long while. Then I silently pulled out the blocks. Slowly I looked out. It was pitch dark. When I saw no one, I slipped through the crack and stuffed in the blanket behind me so no light would shine through from my room.
The concrete floor in the hall was cold and clean on my bare feet. While feeling the block wall I slowly stood up. I couldn’t see anything. I didn’t know which way to go. I picked left. I raised one arm in front of me as I touched the wall with the other. I took a small step.
Another.
Some thing cold met my hand. It was flat and hard but not a block wall. It was a concrete wall. After feeling the whole surface for a door or handle, I felt nothing. I slowly turned in the opposite direction and proceeded past my break in the wall, down the dark hall.
For a long time I walked slowly, shuffling alongside the wall I was touching. Suddenly as I stepped forward, my foot touched air. Startled, I stopped and slowly lowered my foot down feeling for a step. Nothing. I reached down with my hand. Of course I could feel the edge of the concrete upon which I as standing but nothing further.
Nothing.
I couldn’t understand it. It was just a hole.
I was vexed to escape. I thought it would be simple to leave the structure. It wasn’t simple. The person with the shoes I had seen before must have gotten in here somewhere. I felt along the walls past the edge into the hole.
On the left side my hand touched a metal pipe.
A ladder was apparently bolted to the wall. I pulled a little on it. It moved slightly, but it was still reasonably solid. I had to step over a gap from the edge to the ladder. I was fearful. With much anxiety I eventually got down the ladder. At the bottom of the hole was a door.
I swung the door open.
A bright light blinded me. I quickly spun back inside the hole and clumsily climbed a few steps of the ladder.
Upon hearing no alarms I hesitantly stepped down again. Carefully I open the door a second time and let my eyes adjust. I was standing at the end of a brightly lit red hall. Many doors led off to either side. Beside each door was a large window. From where I was standing I couldn’t see inside the windows. I took a few steps forward and looked in the nearest window.
I stood there shocked. Inside, was a man. He was wearing a suit. His suit was an exceedingly bizarre color. It was the same color as the tips of my fingernails. It was the same color as the other men’s teeth. It was the same color as around their eyes. It wasn’t red. Red is the beautiful color.
The whole room was the same color. All the walls, floor, and ceiling were the color of the tips of my fingernails. There wasn’t any other color in the room. His zipper was bizarre. The chair upon which the man was sitting was bizarre. Even his hair was bizarre. I stood dazed as I watched the bizarre sight.
The man must not have seen me. He just stared at the fingernail tip colored floor in front of him. I knocked on the glass. He slowly looked up. When he saw me he lurched forward with a crazed look on his face. It was then I saw the he had teeth colored straps holding his arms and legs to the chair. The chair was bolted to floor.
He tried all the harder to get free, writhing with convulsions. Suddenly he started loudly moaning and shrieking.
It set off the whole hall. From the rooms I could hear hysterical yells and irritable grumbling, sorrowful crying and frightened screaming. I was so afraid that I put my hands over my ears and ran back to the hole and shut the door. I sank down in the dark and quietly began to whimper myself.
Why did they have scream so loudly? Why did the man have to dress in such an ugly color? Why did he have to act that way? What were they all doing?
Then I remembered what the old 87 said. They were humans. They were in a test. Humans should not have to be tested if they don’t want to. I had to escape the structure.
With resolve I bravely opened the door and again stepped from the red hole to the red hall. As I walked down the hall towards the door at the other end I looked in the men’s rooms.
One man was strapped to a chair in a room where everything was black. Another man was strapped to the wall while massive fans on the other side of the room blew huge amounts of air on him. Another man sat strapped to a chair while he listened to a speaker which repeated the sentence “If nobody does nothing, nothing will happen to nobody.” over and over again. One man had a yellow armature attached to his waist that moved him in a circular motion.
As I walked down the hall I came to an especially peculiar and morbid one. Inside this room was a huge tank of water. In the tank was a man suspended upside-down with a tube going into his mouth. I think the tube was for air, but I don’t why he was hanging upside-down in water. I concluded that it must be a test. I looked at the sad sight of the man hanging underwater as he stared at me. Something seemed familiar about him.
Suddenly his eyes widened. He started vigorously motioning me as the other men had. Then he started making movements his hands.
Signs.
It was the old 87! I could now recognize him. How he could possibly be down here I couldn’t imagine. I studied his hands to see what he was saying.
“Help!”
He pointed to the door. I had assumed the doors were locked but maybe they weren’t. I tried the door and it opened. Inside on the wall next to the door were some dials and switches with different labels. The switches controlled different aspects of the room, water temperature, oxygen pressure, etc. One button said “Binder Off” I spontaneously pushed it. With a splash his legs fell into the water. He pulled off his mask and swam to the edge of the tank.
“Thanks man.” He said as pulled himself over the side.
He stood there, his clothes dripping.
“Man, I thought I’d never get out of there.” He combed his hand through his wet hair. “Took you long enough. What have you been doing all this time?”
I stood there looking at him with a blank stare not knowing what to say. How would I have known that he had been in that tank for so long?
“Hey man, don’t like, let it get ya’ down, at least you’re here. Let’s get out a this terrible structure.” He marched to the door and looked both ways. “We gotta’ go fast. They have security cameras everywhere.”
He ran as I followed towards the double doors at other end of the red hall. He tried the door. It was locked, but that didn’t slow him for a second. He ripped the tag off my zipper and sliced it through the crack while he turned the handle. It opened effortlessly. I looked with amazement at his quick thinking. “Hey, that was a cinch.” He grinned as he handed me my tag. I took it with obedience. He stepped through the door and then poked his head back in and said, “You know it would be a whole lot safer for me not take you with me, but I’ll take you anyways.” I didn’t know what to think about the old 87. He was just like he used to be.
I stepped through the doorway. I was shocked. It was the fingernail tip color. I looked around the expansive room at all manner of boxes and containers that had the bizarre color.
“What color is that?” I asked him as we jogged toward a suspended stairway.
“Huh? Where man?” He said as he looked around.
“There.” I pointed to one of the many support pillars.
“White? What about it?”
“I’ve never really seen it before.”
“Wow man. That’s crazy.”
He ran up the stairs, and took a left onto a suspended pathway that led us above the many rows of supplies. His wet clothes dropped water on the boxes below.
“Do you know where were going?” I questioned.
“No, but we’ll get out of this structure sooner or later.” He replied.
When we got to the end of the walkway we came to another door. Which was locked. I held up my tag, which I had been holding. “No this is a different type. It’s got a keypad.” He said pointing to a small metal box with a large red button and small white buttons. I was growing more accustom to the color. He tried poking a few of the numbers. Nothing happened. Then he pushed the red button.
Something happened. It set off an alarm through the room .
“Oh great, just what we need.” He grumbled. Some doors opened up below us and on the other side of room.
“You better run fast man.” He whispered and ran back down the walkway. I could see men down below pointing to us and yelling. The old 87 climbed onto the side off the walkway and jumped onto some tall boxes clambering down other boxes to the floor. I followed along.
“Watch out for their tranquilizers.” He warned as we weaved around pallets of equipment. “They shoot them out of guns.”
I heard a loud bang as I saw something hit the box in front of me. I dodged back and forth threw the stacks trying to keep up with the old 87. His wet feet slapped on the concrete.
“Let’s go back to red hallway.” I suggested
“No, they’d trap us. Follow me” He commanded.
A man dressed in a black vest swung around the box in front of the old 87 and pointed something at him. The old 87 dived at the other mans legs and bowled him over, stunning him. The old 87 immediately jumped and ran on. We were passing right by the door to the red hall.
“Wait,” I said, “I know a way to get out.”
“No, keep running.” He again yelled.
“No, I think we should go this way.” I persisted. Running to the door I swung it open.
“No.” He said.
I refused and ran through the door into the red hall. I heard him turn and follow after me.
“You can’t go this way, you’re gonna’ get trapped.” He shouted.
I ignored him knowing that he didn’t have any other good plans. The humans in the rooms beside me blurred past as they stared in wonder. I reached the open door that led to the hole. “Hey, you’re trapped.” The old 87 said as he ran up behind me.
“No, there’s a way out. I made it myself.” I insisted. I scrambled up a few rungs of the ladder.
The old 87 grabbed my leg and yanked me down.
“I mean it man. YOU…ARE…TRAPPED.” He said smirking at me. “It’s over. You had your little run. Now you’re done.”
I lay on the floor stunned in confusion. What was he saying? There’s still a chance of escape. We got to hurry. I tried to clamber onto the ladder but he kicked me down. ”Don’t you get it? It Is Over. You’re still in the test. Hey, I’m sorry I had to lead you on that I was your friend, but that’s my job, Ok?”
By now the other men had arrived. One of them gave the old 87 a bottle of water, which he drank gladly.
“Can one of you get me a towel, I’m soaked.” He said. One of the men jogged back towards the large room. I could hear a few whimpers from the hall. “What’s happening?” I asked staring at the strange scene before me.
The old 87 looked down at me, “Some things I told you were true, you are human, you are having tests done on you, but it’s not like it’s bad or anything. Plenty of other human’s are being tested. So don’t worry about escaping the structure. You don’t need to and it isn’t going to happen. You will just go back to the same Class with the same kind Caretaker, and all the other men.”
The End

Did you like my story? I wrote it today and yesterday. The kind Caretaker says it was very imaginative. The kind Caretaker says I have a superior imagination. I enjoy writing my thoughts. I will go watch the clock with the other men soon. To let you know, I have seen the color white before. Sometimes the clothes underneath the kind Caretaker’s red smock are white. Also, one of the other men has partially white hair. But I like red better. Red is beautiful.

help

2007-06-11T00:59:00.001-04:00

A mutated alien has broken into my house! help me! I would have called 911 but I couldn't remember the number. So I'm asking you to come save me! Please! I've barred the door with my brothers bed (remorsefully he was in it). The angry alien is flicking down the door! I have to write fast! tell my naybor tat he can ave my trophies help!!!!!!

Elvis was here!

2007-06-11T00:08:00.000-04:00

(Not really) I was informed by a trusted source that Elvis has some very interesting "coincidences". As I'm sure you all know he was very influential in the previous generation. He was maybe the most famous singer of all time. It is a known by many that he sang songs. In fact, his career reach the climax when he made his best songs. I must tell you, even though he made a huge impact on our nation and on many others there is a seemingly sinister plot behind his name. Did you know, my friend, that using the same letters as are in Elvis you can spell Evils?! I think its a sign. Did you also know that spelling Elvis backwards spells Sivle and when you add a w and switch the L and E it spells Swivel?! And when you take out the I and add a E it spells Elves?!!!
I believe it is a clue.
A mystery.
A prophecy.
It all resides on something to do with Elvis and the evil swiveling elves. Think about a for a while. (Please ignore the fact that Elvis can also spell Levi.)

On a more serious note. My mom had a friend in college that scheduled an appointment with Elvis to talk with him about his salvation in Jesus. If I remember correctly they talked for a quite a while and he said that he did believe in Jesus and had gone to church when he was younger(Elvis used to be a christian singer before he went into the world). Just an interesting thought how like famous (or infamous) people now days are actually loved by God and need him. It would probably be a good idea to pray for them.

Sorry, no story today. God bless you.

Good hello.

I've been doing stuff

2007-06-06T14:07:00.000-04:00

My throats all better. Praise God! But that was quite a while ago. As I said, I've been doing stuff. I always say there is two different kinds of things you can do:
1. Update your blog.
2. Not update your blog.
For some people there is only one thing that they can do, namely: not update your blog. Oh, the sad life of those who don't have a blog. How uninteresting. How boring. Only to have one thing to do in life. No choices and no options.
"Hey Dad, you wanna' do something?"
"Let's do something other than updating our blog son, because we don't have one."
"Ah Dad, that's what we did yesterday."
"Well I'm sorry son, but that's the only thing we can do."
"Dad, isn't there anything else we can do?"
"No son, we have to take responsibility for our actions and not update our blog."
Maybe it's not that bad. Seeing as how I don't hardly ever update my blog. But today I will make a reform! You will no longer be left with no excellent reading material! Starting today I will update my blog every day for the past three weeks!

God bless everyone of you(even those that can only not update their blogs.).

Here is a story. Sorry its taken so long in the making. Hope you enjoy!

As I have been considering the implications of my recent events and I have come to realize that they may sustain far more significance than I first anticipated. I now understand (after relating my account to several individuals) how they could possibly hold a larger interest to my readers.
The day before last I was consulting a certain colleague about a small business transaction concerning the insurance company I represent. I had met him at his own office, which was located on the south corner of Harmond St. and Leppis St. He walked me out to the door and we continued to talk on the porch. I turned around to say “good day” when I inadvertently stepped directly against a baby buggy. The young mother pushing the buggy was quite startled. I quickly apologize for my inattention and reached down for a doll that had tumbled out of the sleeping infant’s hand. To my dismay, the porcelain hand of the doll had cracked. Seeing the incident, my colleague offered to get some glue, which he had in his office. The mother declined, saying she that she truly must be on her way. Saying a parting word of compunction to her, I continued to my next matter.
I caught the next trolley and continued to Crawlin, where I had a matter of consequence to discuss with a client. Upon leaving the engagement I was surprised to note that it was lunchtime. I soon had another appointment so I consequently decided upon a small establishment across the street. I do not remember the restaurant’s name, but it looked reputable. I walked in alongside an elderly lady with (I presume) her granddaughter. I opened the door for them both. The kindly grandmother told her granddaughter to say “Thank-you”, as she had done herself. I sat down in a booth and ordered a sandwich when I glanced over at the grandmother and child who sat next to a window. I smiled as the girl gently pulled a doll out of her coat and fondled it lovingly.
I was suddenly surprised by the remarkable similarity between this doll and the other I encountered this morning. I studied it intently for the remainder of my meal. I could not be definite if it was the same doll but the clothes looked exceedingly similar. I can’t recall if the former doll’s hair was black or not.
I had finished my sandwich before I looked at the time. I was nearly late for my next appointment. I hurriedly paid and stepped out the door. Still curious, I looked in the window at the doll. It’s right hand was cracked! I was unquestionably disappointed that I did not have the time to ask them about the doll, but I had to make the meeting.
While on the trolley I wondered with great curiosity about the reappearing doll. I couldn’t possibly imagine it being two different dolls, for they were fractured in the precise same place. The young mother must have imparted the doll to the little girl. But how queer for me to see it again!
I got off at the desired station and wedged through the mass (it was overly crowded at this time). Much to my consternation a distance away I spotted a young girl holding the hand of her father endeavoring to get aboard the trolley. This typically would give me no cause for alarm, but enclosed in her arm was a doll.
With a broken right hand!
I was so taken with surprise that I immediately pressed after them. The distance between us grew larger as they neared the entry door. I hallooed to them and waved my arms, but their backs were turned to me. They presently boarded and I was still a distance away. The trolley slowly picked up speed and I was left behind.
I walked dejectedly towards the office, sorry that I didn’t get to question the owners of the inexplicable doll.
I confess that all during my business discussion I concerned myself with the present mystery. I was glad to be outdoors after the long tiresome meeting. I tried to think of a possible explanation with no avail. Tenement buildings were alongside me as I silently walked, staring at the ground. Ahead a baby started crying. I look up. A mother, sitting on her front steps, was mending clothes as her baby sat upon the ground. Trying to console him she gave him a small pat. He continued to howl. She quickly jumped up and went inside, leaving him outside. Shortly she returned with a doll.
A doll whose face and hand were dreadfully familiar. The dress was faded and torn, but it contained the same pattern. I rushed up and impetuously snatched the doll from the baby which set him crying all the louder. The indignant mother seized it herself, but I continued to hold on.
“Give that right here.” She barked.
“But I must have it.” I stammered back.
“You ‘shant have it” She said defiantly clutching on.
“You must understan…” I started, but she jerked it from me, deftly picked up her screaming child, marched inside, and slammed the door with a glare. I too tramped up the stairs, I heard the deadbolt lock as the baby sustained his bawling.
“Go away!” she said.
I was about to reiterate my needs, when I noticed several neighbors watching me intently. Instead I gave a quiet apology with an even quieter remark, and nonchalantly stepped over the neglected mending back to the sidewalk.
I tried to act aloof and indifferent as I strolled to the corner, conscious of the many eyes glaring at my back. It would necessitate an interval before I would be able to inquire about this phantom doll. This matter was too extraordinary for me to simply disregard and abandon. How this doll could possibly entertain so many hands and in such diverse places was unreservedly bizarre. I doubt as though our city has been abruptly besieged by a troop of dolls possessing exceptionally feeble thumb and forefingers.
Visiting a nearby newsstand I acquired the traditional cover of disguise and I started feeling quite accomplished when I partook in the act of pulling my hat down a modest amount. I then inconspicuously ambled back to the corner and looked about. After a few minutes the window shade shivered slightly. Presently the door cracked open and the woman snatched up her mending and returned inside after quickly looking up the street towards me. Upon which I promptly raised the newspaper.
Staring me in the face was the doll! Her picture was in the newspaper.
She was sitting with other dolls and toys apparently for some toy store. I read further to ascertain that a certain woman’s society was holding a fundraiser benefit in support of a variety of charities. They were selling many miscellaneous items including: cooking equipment, lamps, and children’s playthings. I searched the paper for where the event was to be held.
Today!
I hurriedly looked up the address and leaped onto a trolley with the paper flailing behind me.
Upon arriving at the building I was greeted by an elderly lady (a member of the woman’s society I assume). She ushered me into another room which contained the articles for retail.
There were many people milling around looking for wares. Some were placing additional merchandise on the tables for selling. I searched for the toys and moreover for my personal phantom.
I couldn’t imagine finding the doll, what with all the escaping it had already done. This strange porcelain creature had caused me much consternation and I felt it my duty to uncover it’s history.
An older lady was putting more wooden toys on the shelf as I looked around. I showed her the picture and asked if she had seen the doll.
“If I can remember correctly, there is some dolls on that shelf there.” She said pointing to a shelf.
“Well yes,” I said “ You see I was looking for a particular doll.”
“Oh.” She said “Well let me see it again.”
“Yes, this one here.” I directed, indicating the specific doll.
She adjusted her glasses and peered at the picture.
“I’m sorry sir, I haven’t seen it.” She looked up.
I eventually asked all the society members but none recalled the doll. Some contemplated that it must have been sold earlier. Others thought it could have been taken back by the donor. Where this doll came from I do not know, but I know that I have often wondered about it from that day hence.

Wow, that was kinda' long.

reupholstered throat

2007-05-08T22:05:00.000-04:00

My throat was really hurting. It hurt so bad I wanted to get it reupholstered. Can you do that?
Praise God its not hurting so bad. Maybe it will get all better. I hope so. That'd be great. Right now the main problem is coughing. Pray that I'll get over my cold.
I got a job today. One of Ele's snow blowing customers is going to have me mow his house down. Ahem. Excuse me. Mow his yard. I went there today and worked for about three hours. I had a pretty hard time. Me being sick and all. He doesn't have a very big yard, but it has lots of little shrubbery spots.
I found a paper that I had written when I first started The Children of Light. On it was written the goal I had had when I started the story. It was to have every person, place, and happening to relate to the Bible. I'm sorry to say: I haven't done that. Which brings me to my new conclusion, I need to have a major overhaul of the story. I would doubt anyone was following it real closely anyways. If you were, sorry. I will try to make some good short stories to replace it with.

Such as this one.

It was late. I had gone to a flooring expo class at the Furnishers wholesale headquarters. Basically it was an advertisement for their new products. The pizza was old. I had stayed longer to talk about the flooring tools. When I pay good money I expect good tools, not the trashy stuff… Idiot things. As I said, I stayed late talking with other contractors. None of them looked suspicious. Well, not overtly suspicious. As a rule, some of those old guys are always a little quirky. You know, the way they have plenty of pens, you can see them proudly displayed on their front pocket, but yet they just have to grab a handful of the free company pens from the container and stuff then in their bag with the other dozen free pamphlets and stuff they’ve discovered. Most of the guys I’d seen before, the new ones looked all right. Who knows.
I haven’t ever had very good luck at getting to places on time. I decided to take an old back road to escape traffic. It turned out a shortcut. I was glad for once. Not that the pen grabbers would have noticed if I was on time.
After the class I decided to take the road again. I don’t mind dirt roads that much, especially at night, the bumps keep me awake. I had my highs on, watching out for deer jumping out from the woods. Idiot things. Always jumping out from behind trees at you. It was going along just fine. Seems that’s when the worst always happens. Wouldn’t you know it, I suddenly got a flat. Idiot thing. I quickly pulled off to the side of the road. Leaned my head against the steering wheel. Just great. Here I am out on some country road in the dark and I’ve got to fix a flat. Sure I had the tools, but who really wants to fix a flat on a dark road beside black trees with crazy deer behind them watching you. I pushed the door open and heaved out onto the dirt road. I looked down the street for cars. Duh, of course there isn’t going to be any on this road at ten o’clock at night.
I tried to call my wife on the cell to tell her I’d be late. Out of service. Idiot things. Groaning as I lumbered around to the back of my pickup I opened the hatch.
“Need help Bill Owen?”
I wheeled around, somewhere a ways behind me someone had called my name.
“What?” I asked questioningly. Looking around.
There was a pause.
“Need help Bill Owen?” He said in the same tone as before.
“Where are you?” I said, straining to see in the darkness.
Another pause.
“Need help Bill Owen?” He repeated.
“Not really.” I answered, taking a step towards the voice. “Who are you?”
“Need help Bill Owen?”
I put my hand’s on my hips feeling for the mace canister in my pocket. “Look, I don’t know who you are, bu…”
“Need help Bill Owen?” he interrupted.
“No I don’t need help. You can jolly well stop asking me.”
“Need help Bill Owen?”
That was it. This guy was really, I mean really, getting on my nerves. I carefully pulled the mace out of my pocket and started slowly walking towards him. My eyes were getting accustom to the darkness. I looked around for a man, any man would do right now. Every once in a while he would ask me if I needed help.
He was about to be the one needing help. And it wouldn’t be his car either.
I was getting closer to him. His voice was pretty loud now. Where was he hiding anyway? It didn’t sound like he was in the trees, they were to far away. He must be hiding in the tall grass in the ditch.
This is where it got spooky. He couldn’t be that far away. It sounded like I was right next to him. He’d probably jump out any minute. Let’s just hope he wasn’t armed. But chances are if he was smart enough to know my name he would know some other things too.
Where is he? How could he possibly hide this good while still talking?
His voice seemed now seemed to be below me. I got down on my hands and knees searching through the grass. This was as crazy as all.
I touched it before I saw it. There in the grass was a tape recorder. I picked it up. Just a simple endless loop tape recorder.
“Need help Bill Owen?”… “Need help Bill Owen?”…”Need help Bill Owen?”
This was getting really weird and that voice was starting to sound sinister. How did it know my name? The flat tire. Of course. Exactly what I needed, something to totally complicate my simple life. Whoever did this for whatever reason probably wouldn’t stop here.
Just a simple endless loop tape recorder.
Idiot things.

I will soon try to get another story out. The next one I'm working on is pretty good. Well I think so.
God Bless You All.

Big bulging bonus (below)

2007-04-04T15:36:00.000-04:00

I am decidedly getting more refined at taking pictures on the camera phone. First on the list is a slightly impressionistic style picture, it is of me selecting my favorite delicacies at a fancy

I was at a duct cleaning job yesterday and they collected things. A lot of things. One of the things they collected was food. They had a whole refrigerator full of it. It was really astounding. They collected other things too. Here is a picture of a antique golf club collection.

Here is a side view of the case.

Now you may think that that is quite a few, but look at this.

Please repeat the last sentence.

Now that's allot. ( That's Barak cleaning the duct work.) They collected other stuff too: Antique baseball gloves, old wedding dresses, lots of tea sets, special golf balls, Zippo lighters, jack knives, little metal disk things, jewelry(they had a huge dresser and station with jewelry making tools), Asian cabinets, among other things. After the job the owner gave me a Hershey's bar. : )

I wrote a short story a few days ago. I was thinking it would be neat if I could draw up simple illustrations for the stories. I was also thinking I could have poll to see if anyone thinks its a good idea.
Do you thinks it is a good idea for me to draw illustrations for my stories?
1-No
2-Yes
3-Levi for President
If you want, please comment a number.

Here is the short story:

John Coul’s Diary
2/7/1869 I write this diary in the hopes that after I am dead someone else will read it. Read not this account if you simply wish to disregard the events of my life. I write only truthful events; also I will not exaggerate them if I so can.
My tale begins last week on Saturday the 1’st. I live with my widowed mother and older brother, Ned. My mother had received a call early in the morning around 7:30. The caller was the young daughter of my mother’s good friend Mrs. Parting, the wife of our town’s druggist. Telly Parting had stepped inside (it was bitterly cold outside), and quickly implored Mother to come to her own mother’s comfort who had been recently struck sick with pneumonia. She said the doctor and her father were trying to keep the temperature lower. My mother left immediately, pausing only to get her coat (later in the evening she sent Nelly back for bedclothes to spend the night).
Ned, my brother, intended to leave at 10:00 to attend a business engagement. I was consequently to be alone at the house until 4:00 when he was due to return.
I proceeded to study my mathematics volume for which I was taking a course at the local college. I estimate that around 12:45 I grew weary of learning, and decided to refresh myself with my violin. I had learned how to play when I was young and greatly enjoyed it’s soothing sound (whenever I remembered to play). I walked upstairs and turned to go in my room.
I opened the door and instantly saw the vivid white sun shining through my bedroom window. I hastily went to my closet and swung the door open. I did not see my violin. I looked behind some boxes and still it was missing. I was looking around the room when I remembered that I had put the violin in the attic two weeks ago when cleaning my closet. I retrieved the violin from the attic and sat down in the dinning room, which is directly in front of the stairs. I had memorized many lively jigs when I was young, and now I could enjoy the rewards of practice. I began with a small piece by Strauss( I do not know the song’s name). I continued with Romanian Dance. As I played I tapped my foot to the beat. I then came to a difficult part in the song and I stopped tapping, but as I continued to play I could still hear a faint tapping to the beat. I abruptly stopped in surprise, oddly, after I stopped the tapping continued for a few beats before stopping itself. Intrigued I started playing a few more lines until I heard the strange rapping. I again stopped suddenly listening to it’s delayed stop.
“Ned!” I called out, thinking my brother had come home early. There was no reply. I again called out, softly setting my violin on the table, “ Is someone here?” I slowly stood up listening closely for noise or movement. I heard nothing. I thought it must have been someone playing a poor joke. But I did not know who would want do something like that. I’m not especially noticeable in the college, so no reason to suspect fellow students. I quickly looked around the house looking for someone.
I saw no one so I returned to the dining room, and continued on another song, a slower one. This time I did not tap my own foot. Soon I heard the slight tapping sound. I played quieter so as to hear the knock better, and I could distinctly hear it tap on the beat. I stopped. It again stopped as before. This time I thought I would try the element of surprise. I jumped up and ran into the surrounding rooms.
All were empty of life.
We have no cellar, and the stairway to the upper level is in plain sight from where I was sitting. I then thought it possible that someone outside could somehow hear me playing. I got on my jacket and cap and stepped outdoors. The thick snow sparkled in the bright sunlight. Looking about I circled the house looking for any sign of a sneak. There were no tracks, except for those of my mother’s, Nelly’s, and Ned’s.restaurant.

Now that was fun to make. Some things aren't all that fun to make. Like my bed. No really, you come over and try to make it. You gotta stretch the springs, not to mention the reupholstering.

And remember to make God's day.

The Children of Light

Part 7

Arkhay shouted out a question to Olam, “Has the black stranger yet left by horse?”

The frowning Olam, momentarily surprised, murmured in a low voice repeating what Arkhay had said, “ Reckon he durn’t.” He said looking up. Olam’s face momentarily brightened as it caught aflame by a spark of remembrance. “His horse lef’ though.”
“What do you mean?” The confused boy said.
“I means the despicable little Blackie helped hisself to openin’ the gate, ‘for I could get meself out ‘ere. An slapped his ‘orse out the gate with a letter in t’ bag.
“How could you tell there was a letter? The bags were stuffed with things.”
“He’d emptied ‘dem ‘ags except for a white piece of paper that I seen over t’ edge of the bag.

Volkswagen

2007-03-21T11:34:00.000-04:00

I got one! Volkswagen's are pretty nice cars I'd say, yes, I know they aren't the best, but hey, I take what I can get. My dad was working on it. I mean it literally, on it. I should probably say that I got a piece of it. Make that, a really small piece, but hey, I take what I can get. You will be glad to see I got pictures of my Volkswagen piece.

( Coin shown for size comparison.)

In case any of you look upon this seemingly minuscule piece of broken plastic with contempt, let me inform you of it's prestigious greatness. Not only is this piece of finely crafted plastic molded with an infinite amount of superb care, but it is also property of the notable and highly esteemed Volkswagen company. As Volkswagen after many long years has built a high reputation in the car industry, they would not dash their renowned class by buying a cheaply built crate. That is what this piece is from. (I sneakily got pictures of it on my brothers old cellphone.)

You can see in the top picture where I got my piece of this work of art. Now why I said sneakily was because me and my dad were in a warehouse with workers all about who might be suspicious of me taking pictures of a plastic crate.( It was a ceiling furnace we were working on and they lifted my dad up in the crate with that green forklift. Pretty neat I thought.) You now may be screaming with wonder on why I called it a Volkswagen. Well, I'll let you in on a little privy secret known exclusively to me (And other people who also know): On the bottom side of the crate was a small metal plaque which said Property of Volkswagen blah bla blah. So you see, I have a piece of something that is the property of Volkswagen, but hey, I take what I can get.

The Children of Light

Part 6

Arkhay again ran through the main hall again back to the front door. He swung it open only to reveal a vivid black night. Bravely he stepped onto the first step not unlike the feeling of a castaway suddenly feeling the lurch of the crate wherein he is hiding as it is thrown into the sea. The urge suddenly came to shut the door and brace it with all his weight, he resisted unfalteringly. Instead he reached back grabbing one of the torches that lined the main wall and set out confidently to find his mother. Knowing that if his mother was scared she might unknowingly run out of doors on this clouded moonless night without a candle she would fall into the Shadow of Death, as the cook had. He ran back to the gatekeep, Olam, who was sitting at the fireplace trying to keep warm while carving on a piece of maple wood.

my day

2007-03-12T18:43:00.000-04:00

Ha! I didn't have one. You were thinking you would hear a great story of my day, but you can't because I didn't have one. When you read my heading or "Title" as "They" call it you were expecting some sort of story boring or otherwise explaining what has happened in my day, like something stupid: I went to the zoo today! I got to feed the lions! Myself! I am currently in the Hospital bed with all sorts of interesting tubes stuck in me! This is very educational! I'm not going to write about my day anything like that, because I didn't have one. Now you are all wondering how I could have not a day. Well, I'll tell you: because this has not been my day. This day hasn't been especially bad or anything, it's just that I don't think it was mine to start with. Because its God's day, really. Whether I liked it or not doesn't really matter. It does matter if He likes it. And I'm sure he likes it when we fear him and do what he says.
LETS MAKE GODS DAY!

A new day has begun(meaning I writing this the next day). I still refuse to tell you what I did today. I will give you a little hint of what I did today: not much. And this is what I didn't do today: a lot.

I've got a simple riddle for you(If you get it wrong that mean your not simple). How many "9's" are there between the numbers 1 and 100 (Fractions and decimals aren't counted.)

The answer isn't ten it isn't even eleven. The answer is at the bottom of the post.

See you later all you bodies.

The Children of Light

Part 5

Into the Cook’s Kitchen he ran, this kitchen was little used, for the newly built Main Kitchen that was an outbuilding of itself, was customarily used. Rapidly looking around he saw no one. He turned to leave, but he saw something between the polished hanging pans. It was a cook sleeping over a table in the far corner of the room, his paring knife in hand. Arkhay ran to him yelling at him to wake up. The cook made no movement. Shaking him without avail, Arkhay ran to the door of the kitchen screaming for a servant to help. None came. They’re all busy preparing the feast in honor of Aggellos. Arkhay tried to think. He listened to the cook, but heard no breath. Instead he pulled the cooks head back up from were it had fallen on the table. There was no stain of life upon the knife’s blade he fallen. He tried it another way. He reach for one of the shiny pans off the hook and placed it in front of the cook’s mouth, his breath left no staining vapour. He tried the last analysis, he lifted the cooks eyelids. They were sparkling with life, bright as the sun on a spring day. It was as Arkhay expected.

There are 20 nines (9,19,29,39,49,59,69,79,89,90,91,92,93,94,95,96,97,98,99.)

Herlo Again

2007-02-21T20:44:00.000-05:00

I went to hear an accordion player today at an ol' folks home( I do not consider myself to be an oldie, but sometimes my mom says I am moving like a grandpa.) We know some people that help with a resident of the Home. The accordion player comes every month and they celebrate all the birthdays that have happened in that month. I got cake and ice cream :) . He was a pretty old guy himself, he probably lives in a Home. I live in a Home. But hey, I'm not like embarrassed about living in a Home. In fact I would be embarrassed to not live in a Home. Then I would be Homeless. Well, they're pretty cool too. I once saw a homeless lady out in front Kroger. She was eating lunch. Her lunch consisted of a jar of Mayonnaise. Yum, Yum. Also if you're a homeless guy someone like Batman might walk right up and buy your dirty jacket.
Since today is Ash Wednesday a bunch of the people had a little bit of ash on their foreheads. I didn't know what it was for at first, I thought maybe some kid had come in with his paintball gun and started spraying it around the room and they all got bruises or something. The grandmother our friends work for was kind of humorous. She was hard of hearing and a bit forgetful. I was trying to make conversation with her and I looked outside and said:
"It's so warm outside that the snow is melting."
She replied, "what?"
I repeated, "It's so warm that the snow is melting."
"Who's outside?"
"No, I said that it is so warm...etc."
So we spent quite a long time repeating the conversation starter over and over. We then started spelling out the words and stuff. Finally she understood(Hooray): "Oh, you're trying to say that it's so warm outside that the snow is melting."
"Yes" I smiled.
"Well why didn't you say so in the first place?"
Uhhh I was trying to.
God bless you all very much. Ask Jesus to show you things you would never think of asking for.

The Children of Light

Part 4

Not a sound was to be heard, but as he neared the mighty oaken door it was opened quickly and emitted the stranger that Arkhay had before seen strode quickly out, he passed Arkhay silently and walked down the steps.
Arkhay asked if his mother was in the tower. The Stranger didn’t reply but turned for the servants quarters.
Maybe her soul wasn’t in there but her body might be. Dashing in the door, Arkhay tread down the hall to his mother’s bedroom. Above him visible in the torchlight, the arched stone ceiling valiantly stood, the hewn rock towering on its shoulders. Glancing in the sitting room beside he saw no one. He quietly knocked his mother’s door. Now harder. Hearing no sound, he feared the worst. He burst open the door. Empty. Empty, as the heart of one who has drunken only that of worldly pleasures. Empty bottles with ever empty wells. Arkhay went from room aimlessly searching ever empty rooms, remembering that cold sword. That evil face. That terrible blackness of his cloak.

futuristic fish

2007-02-02T13:46:00.000-05:00

Been busy of late. But I, I, will radiate some of my invaluable time in this horrid macrocosm to bring some small cheer to your puny lives. Out my infinite knowledge I will chose an excellent subject to share with you...Eeny Meeny Miney Mo...Life. Yes, we will talk about "life" itself. Did you know that some forms of life (microorganisms, fungi, etc.) are actually made from extremely tiny bits of matter called Atoms. No kidding. Isn't that amazing! And did you also know that certain fish "breathe" oxygen while underwater! I was totally wowed when I read that. Ahem. Actually I had already highly suspected it, this just proved my preconceived theories.
We got a fish yesterday. It is our first pet( except for my dad's pet rock). It has very some very good characteristics; it doesn't shed, it doesn't eat much, it hasn't bitten my leg yet, but there is one problem; Well, it's only like two inches long, but you see how much water that thing takes. I mean that little tiny fish takes enough water to fill up a whole fish bowl or something! I voted we should just give it a teaspoon or two and after it drinks that then give it more. You know, to save on the water bill, but my family didn't think that would work.
For those of you who are wondering, its a "beta" fish, also known as "Siamese fighting fish", because if you put two males together they fight. Here is a picture of our fishy (I couldn't get a camera):






                       $$$$$
                   $$$$     $$$$           $$
               $$$$    $        $$$$      $ $
            $$$                     $$$  $  $
          $$                           $$   $
           $$$$$$$                          $
          $$                           $$   $
            $$$                     $$$  $  $
               $$$$             $$$$      $ $
                   $$$$     $$$$           $$
                       $$$$$

(Please note. This is not exactly what the real fish looks like. This is the artist rendition.)

Here is a quote for the day: "Burglars do respect property, they just wish to have the property in their possession so that they can respect in more fully." I couldn't remember the exact quote, but this is pretty close.

Good-bye everybody and God bless you with fear of Himself.

The Children of Light

Part 3

Arkhay rubbed his scraped back when the stranger finally turned. He climbed back through the fence more carefully and ran down the ditch into the road. He wiped the sweat from his hands onto his shirt. Looking one last time down the road for the real Aggelos, he turned running towards the Main.
©
The aching side, the sore feet, and burning legs. Arkhay was driven on with a horrific fear for the safety of mother. What lengths would this hateful man go to? Was he the terror that he looked? What has happened to good Aggelos? Was he slain…No, he couldn’t be… He just can’t be.
Nearing his home, Arkhay reached the ramparts. He almost slammed his fist down on the wooden door before he remembered that it would take all the longer to get inside. The antique gatekeeper could get rather upset when he got ruffled. Instead Arkhay gave a short rap on the door. For good measure he added “Hey, Olam, it is I, Arkhay.”
He listened for the gatehouse door to creek open, then the haggard footsteps that had grown so familiar. Presently he heard the squeaking of steps and the puffing of lungs when suddenly the little door above the gate opened as Olam peeked through “Had t’ make sure i’ were you.” As long as Arkhay could remember Olam had always done the same tedious routine. The steps were resumed down the rickety stairs when he finally removed the bar and opened the gate.
Arkhay quickly thrust himself through the door before their were any further “complications”. He then noticed that Olam’s customary frown was replaced with a bigger one.
“Did you see a black cloaked man come through here?” Arkhay hurriedly asked as he walked under the lintel.
The faded old man feebly pushed the door shut. “I seen him,” the white haired Olam replied.
“What did he say, where did he go?” Arkhay impatiently said.
Olam, stubbornly put the iron bar in the hooks to fasten the door before he said, “ Didn’t look wher’ he gone t’ and he didn’t say no word.” Exasperatedly stepping over a puddle Arkhay went up the steps of the huge stone tower, his home.

The human race, to which so many of my readers belong...

2007-01-11T10:31:00.000-05:00

I'm going to think about putting some good quotations on the site. I thought about it. I decided too. My first quote is a very common one, but I think it's pretty cool. It's kind'a a quote/question: "Hello, how are you doing?"- pretty good huh? And here's the awesome reply: "Great!". To get us started on some more unusual quotes I thought I'd put one from a SciFi book. For a brief background: the hero has just escaped the badguys by getting in the engine compartment of this supertrain, he then released the passengers and lugguage, succesfully eleminating the badguys.

There, on the top car, was the lone figure of a Halka, standing strait and tall as he watched us pull away. His flat face was half covered by his oxygen mask, but his red/orange/purple Peerage fobes were unmistakable as they flapped gently in the breeze.

And as I watched, I saw him lift is fist defiantly in our direction. JhanKla, High Commisioner of the Halkas, Modhran walker, and undisputed mast of the engineless train that was even now coasting its way toward a silent, lonely deathe between the stars.

I wished him the joy of his victory.

I like that one. I like a lot of quotes. I normaly like one's that sound weird like: "Thy red lips, like worms, travel over my cheek." That's by someone by the name of Motherwell. Whoever he is. St. Jerome has some great sayings: "No one cares to speak to an unwilling listener. An arrow never lodges in a stone: foten it recoils upon the sender of it." or " Avoid, as the plague, a clergyman who is also a man of business." This is also a good one, "It is no fault of Christianity that a hypocrite falls into sin." The last is very interesting. Allot of people say,"Christians are just a bunch of hypocrites" Christianity isn't the problem, it's the solution. And one last quote "Neglect on your part does not merit emergency on my part."

The Children of Light

Part 2

Pulling on a piece of grass as he stood up, Arkhay looked down the empty road for what seemed the thousandth time. Something new was seen this time. A vast distance down the road the birds took to the sky. The number of birdless trees grew as a thin swarm of birded sky drew. The vague sensation kindled by the fleeing birds and the silent oaks became a lucid fancy as that of a noiseless guillotine, its razor sharp blade striking down on it’s unchangeable target.
Horse hooves sounded. Arkhay’s brow furrowed as he quickly stepped to the side the road. Aggelos, the long awaited visitor, did not come by horse. The animal was also coming much to fast for it to be the easy paced Prophet. Arkhay felt something was amiss. He jumped headfirst into the tall grass barely missing the vigilant eyes of a large black horse flying down the road. Arkhay glanced up as the rider’s dark face cast a watchful glance towards Arkhay’s side of the road. When surpassed, Arkhay jumped up to see the rider’s black cowl flip aside to reveal a curved sword thrust through his leathern belt.
Arkhay was now watching the black rider from the middle of the road. When suddenly the rider looked back. Arkhay feared he was spotted, but the black hooded rider’s head turned forward again and kept on riding strait. Unexpectedly the horseman carefully swerved to the right encircling one of the oaks. The rider turned his charge until it was now heading strait at Arkhay.
When Arkhay saw the rider coming after him he fearfully ran off the road, tripping over the wide ditch. He madly clawed the side of the ditch as the man who brought fear came closer. Arkhay effectively added the ditch to his meager defense of distance, and hastily dodged under the boards of the fence scraping his back.
White knuckles gripped the boards tightly as he faced the rider. Upon seeing the monstrous horse he knew it would be a futile attempt to run any further.
The man faced Arkhay and whispered, “Greetings from Aggelos, child”. His harsh voice sounding like cold wind scratching in the dead leaves.
Arkhay looked into the unearthly crow black eyes that glowed with hatred. A subtle smile crossed the stranger’s hardened face. His smoky hair interlaced with his coal black cloak.
“Do you know the Teleios household?” questioned the stranger.
Arkhay paused regaining courage, “I am one of them.” But the thought of his mother to have to receive this evil man disgusted him, so he added; “What message would you have me to bring them?”
The man clutched his reigns, “None, I come in Aggelos’s stead. I bring myself.”
“I am trusted by Aggelos, may I bring a message?” said Arkhay trying all attempts to dissuade the man.
The man ignored the statement and said; ”You need not wait for Aggelos.” He turned and slapping his black horse to continue on, the stuffed saddlebags flapping.

bye bye!

Dynastic Days

2007-01-04T20:24:00.001-05:00

I was trying to make my website cool by doing the same first letter of each word thing. You will notice the subtle dd accents. Now my site is officially cool. Not that that really matters anyway. Yes I realize that "Dynastic" doesn't really have any thing to with my days, but it has a "D" at the beginning. I was going to put "Dehydrated", but that would actually have some relevance on my days, and I figured it would be more funny if I out something irrelevant. Now my site is officially cool. You can laugh now. I know you were wondering if it was actually a joke or if I really thought my site is officially cool/funny or you were maybe thinking that I didn't know that you were reading this and I was letting this computer know my inner feelings of worth. Enough of the funny business...................................................................
I'm thinking.......................................................................O, Yes. My story. I have bad news. While you forgot to subsequently check my website every two and a half hours the story's main character died, his best friend was found to have a deadly cancer and...well...the hero, to us readers dismay, failed to save the world.
Just kidding. Actually the bad news is that I haven't written that much more on the story( us forced artist). The next post's story section may be considerably shorter. You can't tell it from my end but my computer just froze and I didn't save this post. So it erased about a 3/4 page of writing. Numskulled, shallowbrained computer. I now start all over: I just had a change of mind.
I will start a different story. Sorry.Because I have a whole lot more written on the other one, whereas I only have like one page of the one I started with you. As a disclaimer: This is not the finished product so don't get worried about the grammar or other things.

The Children of Light
Part 1 They that weren’t
Kick. Step. Bump. Step, step to the right. Kick, the rock fell in the ditch. Another pebble suddenly found itself aware of flying through the air, only to roll into the ditch. Without any prior warning an additional stone was chosen by Arkhay to boot down the dirt road. Like a lone soul allowing himself to be kicked about by another’s whim. Unlike the stone which is built into a athanasy wall of comrades.
Arkhay would have run. He was carrying a cold earthenware pitcher of water, sure would spill. He wanted to save it for Aggelos, the prophet. Arkhay was going to meet Aggelos. Greeting him with a cup of water, and naturally a letter from Arkhay’s father addressing the prophet, he would walk back with him. Contrary to what most of the populace considered him, Aggelos was not a dismal prophet always telling terrible woes, but an orator of truth.
Many people had arrived at the manor yesterday and today. They were housed in the spare tower a little distance from the Main. Arkhay wanted to have some time with Aggelos so he volunteered to greet him.
Looking across the ditch was a old wooden fence, beyond the fence midmost were a few cows grazing in one of the many pastures owned by the Teleos household. A row of wizened oak trees garnished the opposite side of the road. Dignified boughs rising into the sky displayed the former inhabitants prosperity. Noisy birds lodged in little clusters as they busily peppered the branches with their talk. Arkhay was proud to belong to such an ancient strain.
He had come to his favorite stopping point. He sat in the crease of the grass with his back to the old fencepost with the little round hole in it. The day had been busy and there was to be a feast tonight. Arkhay had helped the servants with what he could, placing new candles in the place of old, setting up more tables in the banquet hall at the Main. Now it was time to wait. With the pitcher placed against the bottom fence plank, he sat back watching the birds. The shadows rose as the warmth of air left.

Well there it is.

I've got a problem with my site. I don't have a camera( unless you count my brothers .3 megapixel camera phone.) So I can't get pictures very often( this does not make my site uncool). toodles

In the begining (Yes, I know, its long.)

2006-12-23T16:20:00.000-05:00

Hello, this is my very first post. ( If in some strange circumstance you happen to not notice this is my first post, I'm letting you know.) I am a connoisseur of great ideas, once I had one; I could have a online journal. And you know what? I now have one. I'm very proud of my little bloggy.
To keep my waiting crowd occupied in between the extremely excellent posts I though I could tell a story and update it each post. Is that a good idea or what? "It's a great idea!" the crowds rave. ( Don't let this seemingly ridiculous caption distract you from the truth. I am actually interpreting your subconscious thoughts.) There is only one insignificant problem; what shall the story be about? I mean there is thousands of things could write about. But for this fine bloggy I chose a story I've already started on. I know that sounds real cheesy. You think that I knew all along that I would put this story, but actually I didn't, I thought of it on the spurt of the moment. Now I can a another great idea to my "connoisseurings". Please note, this story is not finished neither is it the final draft. If the story seems a little weird it is not your own mind (As would be normal.) It's suppose to be that way.

The Body
The small gray birds flew from the wooden park bench to the maroon color-coded maple trees. The small aesthetic trees, which were lining a concrete sidewalk, were no longer an available selection so the birds vacated to some nearby bushes. Sadly the hedge was also in close proximity to a path, which was sadly inhabited by the horrible “joggers”. The wildlife was enormously disturbed by these environmentally inclined exercisers. (The birds flew away again).
There was one who was not disturbed by the joggers. This man sat, rather collapsed, on the bird’s former habitation, the park bench. The majority of health-conscious joggers running past had dreamed how if they were to become respected “exercise instructors” they would consult him on his physical condition. Which meant they would inspire him to wake up, get on some tight fitting “exercise pants”, and start doing more cardio-vascular beneficial action.
The indignant grandma who was “simply getting some fresh air” became exceedingly aghast when she saw his lopsided way of exploiting up the whole bench. This act was a direct violation of her imperative code of conduct. The old grandma gave a tremendous performance of clearing her throat; he didn’t budge, (Though she had planned on a exceptionally slow walk, the joggers had force her to participate in their fast MP3 set pace.) She, like the birds, was forced to move on.
Suddenly with a shudder spreading throughout his well-insul

ated body his left leg (which had been lolling over the back of the bench) swung to the ground meeting his right leg (which had been in the company of his right arm loitering upon the ground). When all the pieces fit, his large body slowly sat strait up.With small jerky movements he lifted his arm up towards his face. His untidy head gave the smallest of twitches as he tried to focus on his limp hand. Looking like a puppet, his head slumped forward looking over his large “for-front” at his other overstuffed hand. His neck soon twisted up looking around the park. After a good hard stare at a maroon leaf above him, he attempted to stand up. But no sooner than he started he sat down. He again tried to stand, but quickly sat down on his seat. He hurriedly repeated this unfruitful activity several more times.

-More to come-

The Lord is my strong tower. This is a pencil drawing I drew. I Like to draw. My brother thought I should post this.