Should be Day 178.
I have stood here for the past 33 years. I wish I could move, believe me, but I was designed to be rooted to this foundation, always having things happen to me but never being able to experience them myself. I suppose having a house play basketball would look pretty funny though. Since I couldn't move, I have the advantage to see and hear all sorts of things.
The first family that moved in was a newlywed couple. I was honored to have them choose me as their place to begin their lives. The bold, and sometimes cute, declarations of love and compliments lingered in the air for several months, and they were always bigger than any fights they had. I got excited with them when they had their first baby and their second. Justin took his first steps on my floor, and Maria used my brick exterior as a prop for her doll family. I was proud to keep the little family shielded from shivering rains and biting wind. The corners of my living room walls cracked when I found out they were moving because I was too small to house their new addition that was coming. If I had tear ducts, I would have cried along with them when they moved.
The Jeffersons were an elderly couple that had picked me as their new home to retire in. Mrs. Jefferson was a natural homemaker. She baked a pie or batch of cookies almost every day. From the looks and sounds guests and family gave when they ate them, Mrs. Jefferson must have been a fine cook. She covered my windows with chintz curtains that had to have been at least twenty years old. Her garden was just as impressive. Roses, lilacs, petunias, shrubs, and herbs grew around my base and often tickled my skin. It was fun when their grandchildren came over too. I could experience the giggles and pattering feet more often.
More families have come and gone, dinging up the walls, wearing me away little by little. I grew to love all of them in some way. Those first two have always been dear to my heart.
Thursday, June 27, 2013
Tuesday, June 25, 2013
Day 156: Reinventing the Cliche
Should be Day 176.
The Prompt: Take a cliché and rewrite it to make it fresh.
I am doing this exercise to several cliches then choosing one to form a story around in the next day.
The Prompt: Take a cliché and rewrite it to make it fresh.
I am doing this exercise to several cliches then choosing one to form a story around in the next day.
- It made my blood boil~ It made me so mad that when I picked up the ear of corn, it turned into popcorn!
- My eyes were glazing over~ I was so entranced that I felt like my spirit went to another dimension and left my body still gawking in front of it.
- This pushes all my buttons~ This spun me around like a top.
- Don’t get bent out of shape.~ Don't make your hair turn white.
- The teacher chewed me out.~ The teacher rung me through an old-time wringing washing machine.
- It’s driving me up the wall.~ It's making me grow an extra set of fangs.
- He’s wound up tight.~ He's a cat crouched down with large, dark eyes and a raised tail.
- His goose was cooked. ~ It's like he had entered finals week without studying.
- That was easy as pie.~ That was as easy as walking, as smooth as breathing.
- That was pretty hard to swallow.~ That was difficult to accept, like having to sit down and do my taxes.
- My skin was crawling.~ My skin prickled like it was charged with electricity.
- There was a glimmer of hope in his eye.~ His eyes gave off a wisp of a smile.
- They couldn’t see eye to eye.~ Their opinions weren't standing on the same-sized hills.
Monday, June 24, 2013
Day 155: Favorite Vacation Spot
The Prompt: Where is your favorite vacation spot? Why?
I haven't been to too many "official" vacation spots. Mostly we visit relatives. Living in Hawaii takes that option away as a vacation spot. I suppose my favorite place would be Disney Land. I used to think I was too old for it, but I learned that plenty of adults love that place too. It's the one place where it's acceptable for adults to act like children, and it's a world based on some of my favorite movies and characters. Besides seeing the characters dressed up and riding some of the fun rides, actually exploring the world is half the fun. I loved looking at the details they put into the landscaping and attractions. The tourist shops have inventive, fun things to buy, even if they are super expensive. The extra shows they put on was one of my favorite parts. The fireworks display is like nothing you have ever seen. We got a chance to see the World of Color lights display too. They used spurts of water high into the air to create a projector screen, and by using a projector and multi-colored lights, we watched some of our favorite Disney movie scenes on the water. It was magical, nostalgic, and beautiful.
I haven't been to too many "official" vacation spots. Mostly we visit relatives. Living in Hawaii takes that option away as a vacation spot. I suppose my favorite place would be Disney Land. I used to think I was too old for it, but I learned that plenty of adults love that place too. It's the one place where it's acceptable for adults to act like children, and it's a world based on some of my favorite movies and characters. Besides seeing the characters dressed up and riding some of the fun rides, actually exploring the world is half the fun. I loved looking at the details they put into the landscaping and attractions. The tourist shops have inventive, fun things to buy, even if they are super expensive. The extra shows they put on was one of my favorite parts. The fireworks display is like nothing you have ever seen. We got a chance to see the World of Color lights display too. They used spurts of water high into the air to create a projector screen, and by using a projector and multi-colored lights, we watched some of our favorite Disney movie scenes on the water. It was magical, nostalgic, and beautiful.
Day 154: Freewriting for Metaphors
The Prompt: Freewrite for 3 minutes, writing new metaphors for the phrase: the wind blew hard.
This was more like a faster brainstorming. I stopped to think a little.
The wind puffed as large as it could.
The wind sneezed so violently that he pushed the boats across sea.
The breeze tickled the hairs around her face.
The wind pushed the spokes of the giant windmill.
The wind gushed all its energy on the poor little tent who couldn't hold still.
The wind shoved the people along like they were rag dolls.
The wind billowed as large as a cloud and exhaled like a bellow, urging the sails to open wide.
This was more like a faster brainstorming. I stopped to think a little.
The wind puffed as large as it could.
The wind sneezed so violently that he pushed the boats across sea.
The breeze tickled the hairs around her face.
The wind pushed the spokes of the giant windmill.
The wind gushed all its energy on the poor little tent who couldn't hold still.
The wind shoved the people along like they were rag dolls.
The wind billowed as large as a cloud and exhaled like a bellow, urging the sails to open wide.
Day 153: My Favorite House
The Prompt: What was your favorite house and why? Describe it.
We lived in our favorite house for five years. It was my favorite because I loved our yard, our pets, the size of our house, and some of my best memories growing up were in that house. It was a grand red brick farmhouse made in 1910 or 1912. It had a huge kitchen, some ugly carpeting from the 70s, one bathroom (which was bad), a tiny balcony (that I regret not using more), and genuine hardwood floors upstairs. The wooden doors were a deep reddish brown, and the metal knobs were so old that they locked with a skeleton key. We each got to have our own room, plus a playroom, den, living room, and basement. We didn't go down their often because it was cold, dirty, and often smelled like mold.
Our house was covered with green ivy, and birds used to come nest in it. I loved waking up to the sound of them singing. We had many windows in that house too. My bedroom looked out the front of the house, and I remember seeing the trees and green fields. The house was situated on five acres of land, and in the winter it became our private winter wonderland. We had a barn, garage attached to a grain loft, a machine shed, and a small shed. We always had barn cats, along with about two house cats. So many places to explore and play. It was wonderful just to run free.
We lived in our favorite house for five years. It was my favorite because I loved our yard, our pets, the size of our house, and some of my best memories growing up were in that house. It was a grand red brick farmhouse made in 1910 or 1912. It had a huge kitchen, some ugly carpeting from the 70s, one bathroom (which was bad), a tiny balcony (that I regret not using more), and genuine hardwood floors upstairs. The wooden doors were a deep reddish brown, and the metal knobs were so old that they locked with a skeleton key. We each got to have our own room, plus a playroom, den, living room, and basement. We didn't go down their often because it was cold, dirty, and often smelled like mold.
Our house was covered with green ivy, and birds used to come nest in it. I loved waking up to the sound of them singing. We had many windows in that house too. My bedroom looked out the front of the house, and I remember seeing the trees and green fields. The house was situated on five acres of land, and in the winter it became our private winter wonderland. We had a barn, garage attached to a grain loft, a machine shed, and a small shed. We always had barn cats, along with about two house cats. So many places to explore and play. It was wonderful just to run free.
Day 152: My Child's Future
Should be Day 175.
The Prompt: Try to see your day from your child’s POV. What happens?
Mommy woke me up super early this morning, like 7:30. She told me I had to make my bed. I didn't want to, but she reminded me it was part of my chores on my chore chart, and I had to do them. When I was done, I saw my outfit was on my dresser. When I came down, Mommy had breakfast ready for me, chocolate chip pancakes and fruit. She started reading aloud our Bible lesson while I ate. It was about Jonah.
After I was done eating, we did more schoolwork, up until spelling. Then I helped her make lunch while we listened to the radio. When I was all done with schoolwork, I got to watch TV while Mommy was on her computer. Before dinner, we played a board game, and my friend Shannon came over. When Daddy came home, we went to Nana's and Grandpa's house for dinner. I slept on the car ride home. Mommy played with me in the bathtub and tucked me in with a prayers to God and a kiss. She promised me that tomorrow, we get to go on a field trip.
The Prompt: Try to see your day from your child’s POV. What happens?
Mommy woke me up super early this morning, like 7:30. She told me I had to make my bed. I didn't want to, but she reminded me it was part of my chores on my chore chart, and I had to do them. When I was done, I saw my outfit was on my dresser. When I came down, Mommy had breakfast ready for me, chocolate chip pancakes and fruit. She started reading aloud our Bible lesson while I ate. It was about Jonah.
After I was done eating, we did more schoolwork, up until spelling. Then I helped her make lunch while we listened to the radio. When I was all done with schoolwork, I got to watch TV while Mommy was on her computer. Before dinner, we played a board game, and my friend Shannon came over. When Daddy came home, we went to Nana's and Grandpa's house for dinner. I slept on the car ride home. Mommy played with me in the bathtub and tucked me in with a prayers to God and a kiss. She promised me that tomorrow, we get to go on a field trip.
Sunday, June 23, 2013
Day 151: Two People in an Elevator
The Prompt: Take two cartoon heroes and put them in an elevator together. What happens?
After looking over a quick Google search for cartoon heroes, I realized I don't need to have Batman and Superman together. It could be any hero from any movie or show. I could have so much fun with any combination but I chose Kim Possible and Hercules. Feel free to look up any clips on them if you need to know how they act.
Kim Possible stood in the elevator with one hand on her hip. Her other hand was holding her Kimmunicator.
"Okay, Ron, I'll meet you on the fifth floor then. Mr. Rodriguez will be in the third door on the left. Good luck with your scooter."
"Thanks, KP. Bye!"
She clicked her Kimmunicator off as the elevator doors opened on the second floor. Her eyes opened wide when she saw a tall, muscular man barely wearing anything walk into the elevator. His body type reminded her of one of Drakken's henchmen, only much more attractive. She tried to not let him get her off-guard as he stood next to her.
"Seven please," he said in a cheery voice.
"Sure." Kim pushed the button and stared straight ahead.
"I'm Hercules," he grinned, holding out his hand.
Kim wasn't used to his friendliness. She returned the handshake. "Kim. Kim Possible."
"What brings you in here?"
"I'm on a mission. I'm meeting with Mr. Rodriguez. What about you, in that get-up?" she gestured to his Grecian tunic.
"I'm trying to set up a trip to take. There's a travel agent in here."
Kim nodded. "I see. Whoah!" The elevator started rattling violently. She held onto the railing.
Hercules was holding his arms out to balance but he still hit into the wall as the elevator stopped. He stood up straight.
"What happened?"
"There must have been a glitch in the system." Alert, Kim switched on her Kimmunicator. "Wade? Wade? I have no signal in here," she sighed as she put it back in her pocket.
"Don't worry, I'll get us out of here," he spoke with confidence as he strode to the doors.
"Oh, I'm not worried. I wouldn't try that if I were you."
Hercules pulled at the crack of the doors and grunted. "I'm an expert at this."
"Yeah, but they're held shut with electricity, and we're on the third floor. If you open it we'll fall out."
Hercules ignored her and continued pulling.
"Are you done now?" she asked with her arms crossed after he stopped pulling when he noticed there was no floor on the other side of the doors. "Give me a boost, and I can get us out."
"I don't see how a little girl like you can help."
Kim scoffed. "Oh please. You must be all muscle, no brain."
"I am not. You're just so frail and thin."
"Fine, I'll do it myself." And with that, she jumped from one wall to the other until she hung from the ceiling bar.
Hercules watched in shock. "How can you do that?"
While still holding onto the ceiling, she used her other hand to push the ceiling panel up. "I'm a cheerleader." Once the ceiling panel was out of the way, she flipped up and into the hole.
"Amazing!"
Kim surveyed the elevator and saw a wire that was loose. "You're the problem." After studying the elevator shaft further she called down, "There's a problem with the wires. I can't fix them. The only way I see us getting out of here is manually operating the elevator."
"I can help with that. Watch out."
Kim moved another section of the ceiling away as Hercules jumped up. She lost her balance as he landed down with a thud.
Hercules jumped up again and grabbed onto the hole's opening, slightly bending the elevator. Once he was able to fit his broad shoulders through the hole, the rest of him came out easily.
"Where is the cable?"
"Over there," she pointed to a thick black twisted cable.
Hercules walked carefully over to it, reached up, and pulled down with all his might. The elevator shifted up, but Kim was able to keep her balance this time.
"I think we should be going down," Hercules said as he pulled the rope in the opposite direction. The elevator slid down fluidly. They both watched the marks on the walls go down in number. "This is the first floor," he announced.
"Great job, Hercules!" Kim grinned.
"Thanks, but how do we get out?"
"I think I can handle this part."
Kim jumped down and landed softly on her feet. She pulled out her Kimmunicator, and Hercules landed not so quietly next to her. Her Kimmunicator worked now that she was on the ground level. She explained the situation to Wade, and he set up her device to override the elevator circuits. She plugged the Kimmunicator into the circuit box. Hercules heard some whirring.
"Try pulling the doors open now," Kim instructed.
Hercules gave a great heave and wrenched the doors open. Meg, Ron, and Rufus were on the other side. Wade had told Ron what had happened, and Meg happened to be there at the right time. They cheered when they saw the doors open.
"Hey, we make a pretty good team." Kim held out her hand to shake.
He gripped it tightly and shook. "Yeah, we do. Nice meeting you."
"Same here," Kim replied, rubbing her sore hand. Hercules had a strong grip.
"Are you alright, Kim?" Ron asked.
"Oh yeah, I'm fine, but Ron, let's take the stairs."
After looking over a quick Google search for cartoon heroes, I realized I don't need to have Batman and Superman together. It could be any hero from any movie or show. I could have so much fun with any combination but I chose Kim Possible and Hercules. Feel free to look up any clips on them if you need to know how they act.
Kim Possible stood in the elevator with one hand on her hip. Her other hand was holding her Kimmunicator.
"Okay, Ron, I'll meet you on the fifth floor then. Mr. Rodriguez will be in the third door on the left. Good luck with your scooter."
"Thanks, KP. Bye!"
She clicked her Kimmunicator off as the elevator doors opened on the second floor. Her eyes opened wide when she saw a tall, muscular man barely wearing anything walk into the elevator. His body type reminded her of one of Drakken's henchmen, only much more attractive. She tried to not let him get her off-guard as he stood next to her.
"Seven please," he said in a cheery voice.
"Sure." Kim pushed the button and stared straight ahead.
"I'm Hercules," he grinned, holding out his hand.
Kim wasn't used to his friendliness. She returned the handshake. "Kim. Kim Possible."
"What brings you in here?"
"I'm on a mission. I'm meeting with Mr. Rodriguez. What about you, in that get-up?" she gestured to his Grecian tunic.
"I'm trying to set up a trip to take. There's a travel agent in here."
Kim nodded. "I see. Whoah!" The elevator started rattling violently. She held onto the railing.
Hercules was holding his arms out to balance but he still hit into the wall as the elevator stopped. He stood up straight.
"What happened?"
"There must have been a glitch in the system." Alert, Kim switched on her Kimmunicator. "Wade? Wade? I have no signal in here," she sighed as she put it back in her pocket.
"Don't worry, I'll get us out of here," he spoke with confidence as he strode to the doors.
"Oh, I'm not worried. I wouldn't try that if I were you."
Hercules pulled at the crack of the doors and grunted. "I'm an expert at this."
"Yeah, but they're held shut with electricity, and we're on the third floor. If you open it we'll fall out."
Hercules ignored her and continued pulling.
"Are you done now?" she asked with her arms crossed after he stopped pulling when he noticed there was no floor on the other side of the doors. "Give me a boost, and I can get us out."
"I don't see how a little girl like you can help."
Kim scoffed. "Oh please. You must be all muscle, no brain."
"I am not. You're just so frail and thin."
"Fine, I'll do it myself." And with that, she jumped from one wall to the other until she hung from the ceiling bar.
Hercules watched in shock. "How can you do that?"
While still holding onto the ceiling, she used her other hand to push the ceiling panel up. "I'm a cheerleader." Once the ceiling panel was out of the way, she flipped up and into the hole.
"Amazing!"
Kim surveyed the elevator and saw a wire that was loose. "You're the problem." After studying the elevator shaft further she called down, "There's a problem with the wires. I can't fix them. The only way I see us getting out of here is manually operating the elevator."
"I can help with that. Watch out."
Kim moved another section of the ceiling away as Hercules jumped up. She lost her balance as he landed down with a thud.
Hercules jumped up again and grabbed onto the hole's opening, slightly bending the elevator. Once he was able to fit his broad shoulders through the hole, the rest of him came out easily.
"Where is the cable?"
"Over there," she pointed to a thick black twisted cable.
Hercules walked carefully over to it, reached up, and pulled down with all his might. The elevator shifted up, but Kim was able to keep her balance this time.
"I think we should be going down," Hercules said as he pulled the rope in the opposite direction. The elevator slid down fluidly. They both watched the marks on the walls go down in number. "This is the first floor," he announced.
"Great job, Hercules!" Kim grinned.
"Thanks, but how do we get out?"
"I think I can handle this part."
Kim jumped down and landed softly on her feet. She pulled out her Kimmunicator, and Hercules landed not so quietly next to her. Her Kimmunicator worked now that she was on the ground level. She explained the situation to Wade, and he set up her device to override the elevator circuits. She plugged the Kimmunicator into the circuit box. Hercules heard some whirring.
"Try pulling the doors open now," Kim instructed.
Hercules gave a great heave and wrenched the doors open. Meg, Ron, and Rufus were on the other side. Wade had told Ron what had happened, and Meg happened to be there at the right time. They cheered when they saw the doors open.
"Hey, we make a pretty good team." Kim held out her hand to shake.
He gripped it tightly and shook. "Yeah, we do. Nice meeting you."
"Same here," Kim replied, rubbing her sore hand. Hercules had a strong grip.
"Are you alright, Kim?" Ron asked.
"Oh yeah, I'm fine, but Ron, let's take the stairs."
Day 150: Lying
The Prompt: Have you ever lied and felt bad about it? What happened?
I think this is worded kind of funny. Everybody has lied and felt bad about doing it. For me growing up, lying hasn't been an outright lie, such as "I did my homework" when I actually didn't. I didn't say that I did or did not do something. This lets my parents assume that I did do it. It's still lying because it's not the truth.
One of the best examples I have of this is a bad thing I did when I was in about fifth or sixth grade. My mom kept telling me to do my book report, but I hated doing them at that age. I put off doing it when I was supposed to. All that time, she had assumed I was working on it. A month passed and the deadline approached. She asked me about the report, and I sheepishly said I didn't do it. My mom was mad, with good reason. The worse part was the lecture she gave me about the wrong I had done. I had never felt so guilty about not doing my work. I was sent up into my room to work on the paper at once. Later, she talked me to make sure I understood the wrong I had done and that everything was okay. I completely understood and never procrastinated a paper that badly again.
I think this is worded kind of funny. Everybody has lied and felt bad about doing it. For me growing up, lying hasn't been an outright lie, such as "I did my homework" when I actually didn't. I didn't say that I did or did not do something. This lets my parents assume that I did do it. It's still lying because it's not the truth.
One of the best examples I have of this is a bad thing I did when I was in about fifth or sixth grade. My mom kept telling me to do my book report, but I hated doing them at that age. I put off doing it when I was supposed to. All that time, she had assumed I was working on it. A month passed and the deadline approached. She asked me about the report, and I sheepishly said I didn't do it. My mom was mad, with good reason. The worse part was the lecture she gave me about the wrong I had done. I had never felt so guilty about not doing my work. I was sent up into my room to work on the paper at once. Later, she talked me to make sure I understood the wrong I had done and that everything was okay. I completely understood and never procrastinated a paper that badly again.
Day 149: Courage
The Prompt: Start a story using this sentence. She picked up the frame, touched the face in the picture and smiled.
She picked up the frame, touched the face in the picture, and smiled. It wasn't a happy smile, more like a worn smile that was trying to get past pain to remember some good times. The picture was of her and her former boyfriend Marcus sitting next to each other in a restaurant booth. A piece of birthday cake was sitting in front of him. That had been almost a year ago now. Helen put the picture back in the envelope and buried it under other papers and folder in her drawer. Burying the picture didn't marry the memories of Marcus though.
She remembered his favorite songs, his favorite food, their favorite date nights. The seven months she had known him had been the happiest she had ever had. Helen sat back on her bed and wondered if she had made a mistake. Was she wrong to break up with him?
No, she told herself. She had made the right decision. Marcus had been devoted to her but there had come a point where she felt that he had taken her for granted. He didn't call as much as he used to. He canceled their dates. Helen felt like she was the main person pushing their relationship forward, and she was tired of it. In a heated argument, she had told Marcus she wanted to stop seeing him. Her stinging words had lingered in the air, and Helen was still haunted by Marcus' face after he heard them.
She regretted saying those words when she had gotten home, but her pride prevented her from calling him. Helen reassured herself that Marcus would call back in a few days. If he really loved her like he said he did, he wouldn't let her go that easily. A week passed, then two. After a month, Helen had accepted the fact that perhaps his attachment to her hadn't been as strong she had thought.
If she could, Helen wouldn't have taken those words back. She was glad that her break-up had revealed his true feelings. Her only regret was that the truth had to hurt. A sound from her phone interrupted her thoughts. She clicked it on and checked the text message she had. Her heart pounded hard and her face felt hot when she saw the name.
"Hi Helen, I've been working up the courage to contact you for the past few weeks. I've found it impossible to get over you. Would you be willing for me to call you? I'd love to talk. Marcus."
Helen was in shock. She had been wrong about Marcus, again. Maybe she had been the problem all along. And now, by a divine miracle, she had a second chance.
She texted back, "Hi Marcus. It's great to hear from you again. I'd love to talk to you."
She picked up the frame, touched the face in the picture, and smiled. It wasn't a happy smile, more like a worn smile that was trying to get past pain to remember some good times. The picture was of her and her former boyfriend Marcus sitting next to each other in a restaurant booth. A piece of birthday cake was sitting in front of him. That had been almost a year ago now. Helen put the picture back in the envelope and buried it under other papers and folder in her drawer. Burying the picture didn't marry the memories of Marcus though.
She remembered his favorite songs, his favorite food, their favorite date nights. The seven months she had known him had been the happiest she had ever had. Helen sat back on her bed and wondered if she had made a mistake. Was she wrong to break up with him?
No, she told herself. She had made the right decision. Marcus had been devoted to her but there had come a point where she felt that he had taken her for granted. He didn't call as much as he used to. He canceled their dates. Helen felt like she was the main person pushing their relationship forward, and she was tired of it. In a heated argument, she had told Marcus she wanted to stop seeing him. Her stinging words had lingered in the air, and Helen was still haunted by Marcus' face after he heard them.
She regretted saying those words when she had gotten home, but her pride prevented her from calling him. Helen reassured herself that Marcus would call back in a few days. If he really loved her like he said he did, he wouldn't let her go that easily. A week passed, then two. After a month, Helen had accepted the fact that perhaps his attachment to her hadn't been as strong she had thought.
If she could, Helen wouldn't have taken those words back. She was glad that her break-up had revealed his true feelings. Her only regret was that the truth had to hurt. A sound from her phone interrupted her thoughts. She clicked it on and checked the text message she had. Her heart pounded hard and her face felt hot when she saw the name.
"Hi Helen, I've been working up the courage to contact you for the past few weeks. I've found it impossible to get over you. Would you be willing for me to call you? I'd love to talk. Marcus."
Helen was in shock. She had been wrong about Marcus, again. Maybe she had been the problem all along. And now, by a divine miracle, she had a second chance.
She texted back, "Hi Marcus. It's great to hear from you again. I'd love to talk to you."
Day 148: Stand Your Ground
Should be Day 174.
"Justin, is there something you wanted to talk to me about?" Mrs. Finley asked after the school bell had rung.
"No, ma'am." The boy fidgeted in his seat as he flipped through the books that were in his backpack.
"Are you waiting for your parents?"
"No. I live fifteen minutes away. I walk home."
"I see. I suggest you leave now then. The janitor is going to lock up the classrooms soon, and I wouldn't want you getting stuck in here."
"Thanks, Mrs. Finley."
Justin slowly zipped up his bag and slung the heavy burden over his shoulders. He followed his feet down the lonely hallways and out into the school yard. Instead of walking to the sidewalk, he walked behind the school building. There were some large trash bins sitting there, along with a shed that most of the kids suspected contained some old sports equipment. It was in front of this shed that Justin stopped near. He rested his backpack on the ground and stared at his watch.
3:02. Only three more minutes and Seth and his friends would show up. Justin shoved his hands in his pockets and shuffled his feet in the dirt. He had thought about what he would do at this meeting all week. Twice he had considered not showing up at all, but Justin was a boy of his word, and he wanted to protect that honor. After praying fervently to God about his problem, he believed he had an answer. It wasn't the one he had expected, but he was trusting that it was going to work.
"Hi, dweeb," a gruff, higher- pitched voice from behind addressed him.
Justin turned around and saw Seth and his two friends, Andre and Joseph, towering over him with their arms crossed.
"I didn't see you in lunch today."
"I ate on the playground," he said quietly.
Seth smirked. "You thought you could get away with not giving me my money, huh? Well, it's not gonna work. Pay up."
"No," Seth said softly but firmly.
"You're still sticking with that answer?" Seth's eyes never moved from Justin.
"I'm not letting you take my lunch money anymore."
Andre and Joseph smiled at each other and looked at Seth for a response.
"If that's the way you feel, then it's a good thing we agreed to meet here. The pounding is still in effect." He advanced closer to Justin. Andre and Joseph followed, pounding their fists into their palms. "Because I believe in fair fights, I'll let you throw the first punch."
Justin took a deep breath and stood up as tall as he could. "I'm not going to fight you, Seth. If you want to punch me, go ahead, but I don't want to punch you."
Andre snickered and Seth was taken aback by the answer. He pushed against Justin's chest. "I know what this is. You're too scared." He pushed on it again. "Come on, chicken. I know you want to fight me. Show you can actually do something."
Justin's hands burrowed farther into his pockets as he stood his ground.
"Maybe this would change your mind." Seth raised his fist and punched Justin in his right eye.
Justin yelped in pain. The force of the punch had knocked him down. He held back the tears that were only making his eye feel worse.
Andre and Joseph laughed as Justin slowly got to his feet again.
"Come on, kid, I'll even give you a free one," Seth taunted as he leaned his face into Justin's for a minute then weaved it away. "What's the matter with you?"
Justin swallowed. "You can punch my other eye too if you want."
Joseph laughed again. "Did you hear that, Seth? He asked you to punch him again!"
Seth wasn't laughing though. The look Justin was giving him was making him sick to his stomach. It wasn't hate, or rage, or vengeful. Justin didn't look eager for a fight at all. He looked sorry, but not for himself. Justin even looked expectant on getting punched again. Beating someone up who didn't want to defend himself and even wanted the pain wasn't much fun.
"Come on, guys, let's get out of here. He's not worth wasting energy on."
His pals looked at each other and back at Seth, who was already walking away. They ran to catch up with him.
Justin sighed with relief. It worked. He didn't have to hurt anyone and only got one punch, even if it was stinging ferociously right now. He hoped his mother wouldn't be too upset, but he knew she would be proud of him. Picking up his bag, he started his walk home.
Mrs. Finley had been sitting in the parking lot when she saw Seth and his friends walk away from the back of the school. She didn't think much of it until she saw Justin the next day. Combining these facts with Justin's peculiar behavior yesterday, she surmised that Seth had given Justin the punch. She had the boys sent directly to the principal's office, where they were given three days of detention.
"Justin, is there something you wanted to talk to me about?" Mrs. Finley asked after the school bell had rung.
"No, ma'am." The boy fidgeted in his seat as he flipped through the books that were in his backpack.
"Are you waiting for your parents?"
"No. I live fifteen minutes away. I walk home."
"I see. I suggest you leave now then. The janitor is going to lock up the classrooms soon, and I wouldn't want you getting stuck in here."
"Thanks, Mrs. Finley."
Justin slowly zipped up his bag and slung the heavy burden over his shoulders. He followed his feet down the lonely hallways and out into the school yard. Instead of walking to the sidewalk, he walked behind the school building. There were some large trash bins sitting there, along with a shed that most of the kids suspected contained some old sports equipment. It was in front of this shed that Justin stopped near. He rested his backpack on the ground and stared at his watch.
3:02. Only three more minutes and Seth and his friends would show up. Justin shoved his hands in his pockets and shuffled his feet in the dirt. He had thought about what he would do at this meeting all week. Twice he had considered not showing up at all, but Justin was a boy of his word, and he wanted to protect that honor. After praying fervently to God about his problem, he believed he had an answer. It wasn't the one he had expected, but he was trusting that it was going to work.
"Hi, dweeb," a gruff, higher- pitched voice from behind addressed him.
Justin turned around and saw Seth and his two friends, Andre and Joseph, towering over him with their arms crossed.
"I didn't see you in lunch today."
"I ate on the playground," he said quietly.
Seth smirked. "You thought you could get away with not giving me my money, huh? Well, it's not gonna work. Pay up."
"No," Seth said softly but firmly.
"You're still sticking with that answer?" Seth's eyes never moved from Justin.
"I'm not letting you take my lunch money anymore."
Andre and Joseph smiled at each other and looked at Seth for a response.
"If that's the way you feel, then it's a good thing we agreed to meet here. The pounding is still in effect." He advanced closer to Justin. Andre and Joseph followed, pounding their fists into their palms. "Because I believe in fair fights, I'll let you throw the first punch."
Justin took a deep breath and stood up as tall as he could. "I'm not going to fight you, Seth. If you want to punch me, go ahead, but I don't want to punch you."
Andre snickered and Seth was taken aback by the answer. He pushed against Justin's chest. "I know what this is. You're too scared." He pushed on it again. "Come on, chicken. I know you want to fight me. Show you can actually do something."
Justin's hands burrowed farther into his pockets as he stood his ground.
"Maybe this would change your mind." Seth raised his fist and punched Justin in his right eye.
Justin yelped in pain. The force of the punch had knocked him down. He held back the tears that were only making his eye feel worse.
Andre and Joseph laughed as Justin slowly got to his feet again.
"Come on, kid, I'll even give you a free one," Seth taunted as he leaned his face into Justin's for a minute then weaved it away. "What's the matter with you?"
Justin swallowed. "You can punch my other eye too if you want."
Joseph laughed again. "Did you hear that, Seth? He asked you to punch him again!"
Seth wasn't laughing though. The look Justin was giving him was making him sick to his stomach. It wasn't hate, or rage, or vengeful. Justin didn't look eager for a fight at all. He looked sorry, but not for himself. Justin even looked expectant on getting punched again. Beating someone up who didn't want to defend himself and even wanted the pain wasn't much fun.
"Come on, guys, let's get out of here. He's not worth wasting energy on."
His pals looked at each other and back at Seth, who was already walking away. They ran to catch up with him.
Justin sighed with relief. It worked. He didn't have to hurt anyone and only got one punch, even if it was stinging ferociously right now. He hoped his mother wouldn't be too upset, but he knew she would be proud of him. Picking up his bag, he started his walk home.
Mrs. Finley had been sitting in the parking lot when she saw Seth and his friends walk away from the back of the school. She didn't think much of it until she saw Justin the next day. Combining these facts with Justin's peculiar behavior yesterday, she surmised that Seth had given Justin the punch. She had the boys sent directly to the principal's office, where they were given three days of detention.
Friday, June 21, 2013
Day 147: A Day in the Life of a Book Agent
The Prompt: You’re a book agent. Describe your day.
Once I get to my office, I look over my calendar to see which clients I have today. Then, I check emails and send some responses. I'm working on a getting together with a potential client. He's been emailing me his ideas for his book, and I've just set up a meeting with him to see him in person. Once I'm done with that, I prepare for my meeting with a publisher to try to sell my client's book. I am writing out a persuasive list of arguments of why the publisher should choose the book. For lunch, I eat at a bistro with a co-worker. Afterwards, I brainstorm with another client on what our next move should be. To conclude my day at work, I read a manuscript that was delivered to me.
Once I get to my office, I look over my calendar to see which clients I have today. Then, I check emails and send some responses. I'm working on a getting together with a potential client. He's been emailing me his ideas for his book, and I've just set up a meeting with him to see him in person. Once I'm done with that, I prepare for my meeting with a publisher to try to sell my client's book. I am writing out a persuasive list of arguments of why the publisher should choose the book. For lunch, I eat at a bistro with a co-worker. Afterwards, I brainstorm with another client on what our next move should be. To conclude my day at work, I read a manuscript that was delivered to me.
Day 146: A Conversation with My Character
Should be Day 172. I have skipped a few prompts. Here is the next one. I don't have a big WIP that I can think of but I might use this later when I do. For now, this is a character I created to be one of Alvin's annoying yet loyal friends.
The Prompt: Have a conversation with one of your characters from your WIP.
*walking down the sidewalk* Oh hi, Brittany!
Hey, Rodger, what are you doing?
I was just headed over to Arnie's house to play some video games and help terrorize his older sister.
Why would you do something like that to your best friend's sister?
Because Arnie doesn't like her either. I'm helping. It'll be fun.
You take pleasure in bullying others?
I wouldn't call it "bullying," just having some fun. And yes, I do enjoy it, if it's to someone who deserves it.
And what did she do that was so terrible?
She didn't pick Arnie up after school. After waiting a half hour, he had to walk home. Plus, she hogged up the bathroom so he couldn't get in and keeps teasing him.
Picking on her will only make the teasing for Arnie worse.
But he can't just sit by and do nothing! We're going to switch her hand creme with marshmallow creme and hide one of her shoes.
*shakes head* Don't you have a test to study for?
I have a test, but I'm not studying for it. Studying confuses me.
But that's how you get good grades.
I'd much rather get good scores on a video game. If this interrogation of yours is over, I have to go or I'll be late. See ya! *walks away and eats potato chips*
The Prompt: Have a conversation with one of your characters from your WIP.
*walking down the sidewalk* Oh hi, Brittany!
Hey, Rodger, what are you doing?
I was just headed over to Arnie's house to play some video games and help terrorize his older sister.
Why would you do something like that to your best friend's sister?
Because Arnie doesn't like her either. I'm helping. It'll be fun.
You take pleasure in bullying others?
I wouldn't call it "bullying," just having some fun. And yes, I do enjoy it, if it's to someone who deserves it.
And what did she do that was so terrible?
She didn't pick Arnie up after school. After waiting a half hour, he had to walk home. Plus, she hogged up the bathroom so he couldn't get in and keeps teasing him.
Picking on her will only make the teasing for Arnie worse.
But he can't just sit by and do nothing! We're going to switch her hand creme with marshmallow creme and hide one of her shoes.
*shakes head* Don't you have a test to study for?
I have a test, but I'm not studying for it. Studying confuses me.
But that's how you get good grades.
I'd much rather get good scores on a video game. If this interrogation of yours is over, I have to go or I'll be late. See ya! *walks away and eats potato chips*
Day 145: Romantic Proposal
He had been deliberating on whether or not he should ask Shannon to marry him for months. He wasn't sure when he had exactly fallen in love with her. All he knew was that he couldn't imagine life without her. He knew that the next step would be marriage, but he was afraid of change. He was certain Shannon shared mutual feelings for him, so she would accept him. He was too comfortable with the life they shared now. The idea of proposing to her slipped back further in his mind until he almost forgot he wanted to ask her. Nothing lasts forever though, and Devon found himself thrown into the situation before he knew what had happened.
Devon first met Shannon on the third day of filming a new TV show. He was rather excited when he found out that she would be his co-star. She was attractive with blond curly hair and a great sense of humor with a laugh that crinkled her nose in the cutest way. As he came to know her over the five years that they had worked together, Devon knew Shannon's heart was just as loveley as she was on the outside.
Rumors had been circulating for weeks that the series would be ending this season. Devon was sick with dread. If the show ended, his excuse to see Shannon at work and date her would be over. Without that constant, he wasn't sure what their future together would be like. There was a chance that Shannon could move on, or they would have different goals and be forced to part ways. It seemed that the only certain way of securing their future would be to propose.
One of the excuses they had for dating was that Devon's and Shannon's characters were romantically involved in the show. Some of the scenes the characters were in were not acted, and some of the words were ad-libbed. The fans sensed this and loved the actors and characters. It made sense then that the future of the characters would be decided in the final season. Devon assumed he and Shannon's characters would get married, which gave him an idea.
Today, he didn't need to read his script. He had rehearsed the scene in his head for almost a year now, just not in this setting. He took a deep breath in an attempt to calm his nerves. No one knew what he was going to do, and he was afraid his idea would get some people angry. The director and most of the crew were there. Shannon was getting a make-up touch-up. Everything was in place.
Shannon walked into the apartment setting for her character and glanced over her script.
"Ready?" announced the director.
"Yes," she answered.
Devon walked on set and took his place opposite from her.
"And action!"
Devon and Shannon started acting the scene with no mistakes. Their characters were arguing and the climax was that her character was going to move.
"Jes, wait," Devon said and pulled on her arm before she could walk away.
She crossed her arms like it was suggested in the script.
"Jes, you mean more to me than any job. I love you, and I can't let you walk out of my life. I need you. You're the reason why I wake up in the morning and why I've come to work these past five years. Every day with you makes my life a little brighter."
The director whispered to his assistant. "Those last couple lines were added again."
"They're good." They both nodded and looked back on stage.
Devon was kneeling down now and pulled out what the crew had thought was going to be the prop ring.
Shannon gasped at its size, surprised the prop crew would have a ring so lovely.
Devon held her hand and lifted up the ring. "Will you marry me, Shannon?"
Several gasps were heard, and Shannon's eyes brimmed with tears. "Are you serious?"
"This is me. I've never been so serious in my life."
"Oh my gosh, Devon, I can't believe this! I mean, in front of all these people, on set?"
The director double-checked the camera to make sure it was still rolling and stared back at the suspenseful scene.
Devon gazed in her eyes. He never moved from his position.
"Yes!" she brushed away the tears. "Yes, Devon, I'll marry you."
He stood up, put the ring on her finger and gave her a huge hug. As they kissed, the crew cheered and clapped for them.
Devon first met Shannon on the third day of filming a new TV show. He was rather excited when he found out that she would be his co-star. She was attractive with blond curly hair and a great sense of humor with a laugh that crinkled her nose in the cutest way. As he came to know her over the five years that they had worked together, Devon knew Shannon's heart was just as loveley as she was on the outside.
Rumors had been circulating for weeks that the series would be ending this season. Devon was sick with dread. If the show ended, his excuse to see Shannon at work and date her would be over. Without that constant, he wasn't sure what their future together would be like. There was a chance that Shannon could move on, or they would have different goals and be forced to part ways. It seemed that the only certain way of securing their future would be to propose.
One of the excuses they had for dating was that Devon's and Shannon's characters were romantically involved in the show. Some of the scenes the characters were in were not acted, and some of the words were ad-libbed. The fans sensed this and loved the actors and characters. It made sense then that the future of the characters would be decided in the final season. Devon assumed he and Shannon's characters would get married, which gave him an idea.
Today, he didn't need to read his script. He had rehearsed the scene in his head for almost a year now, just not in this setting. He took a deep breath in an attempt to calm his nerves. No one knew what he was going to do, and he was afraid his idea would get some people angry. The director and most of the crew were there. Shannon was getting a make-up touch-up. Everything was in place.
Shannon walked into the apartment setting for her character and glanced over her script.
"Ready?" announced the director.
"Yes," she answered.
Devon walked on set and took his place opposite from her.
"And action!"
Devon and Shannon started acting the scene with no mistakes. Their characters were arguing and the climax was that her character was going to move.
"Jes, wait," Devon said and pulled on her arm before she could walk away.
She crossed her arms like it was suggested in the script.
"Jes, you mean more to me than any job. I love you, and I can't let you walk out of my life. I need you. You're the reason why I wake up in the morning and why I've come to work these past five years. Every day with you makes my life a little brighter."
The director whispered to his assistant. "Those last couple lines were added again."
"They're good." They both nodded and looked back on stage.
Devon was kneeling down now and pulled out what the crew had thought was going to be the prop ring.
Shannon gasped at its size, surprised the prop crew would have a ring so lovely.
Devon held her hand and lifted up the ring. "Will you marry me, Shannon?"
Several gasps were heard, and Shannon's eyes brimmed with tears. "Are you serious?"
"This is me. I've never been so serious in my life."
"Oh my gosh, Devon, I can't believe this! I mean, in front of all these people, on set?"
The director double-checked the camera to make sure it was still rolling and stared back at the suspenseful scene.
Devon gazed in her eyes. He never moved from his position.
"Yes!" she brushed away the tears. "Yes, Devon, I'll marry you."
He stood up, put the ring on her finger and gave her a huge hug. As they kissed, the crew cheered and clapped for them.
Wednesday, June 19, 2013
Day 144: Listening to God's Call
The Prompt: Flesh out this character. Ruby works in the children’s church, but she hates kids. Why is she there?
Dear Mom,
I got your phone call the other day. I couldn't answer back because I dropped my phone, and it won't work anymore. I think I need a new one. I decided to email my response.
Work is going well. Nothing to important. I have a big presentation next week that I've been planning for. After that's done, my boss is meeting with me to discuss my performance so far. I'm trying not to let my nerves get the best of me.
Tommy and I are happy still. I doubt a break-up is in sight. He told me to send you his love.
The biggest thing that I think has happened to me is that I have decided to volunteer in the children's church. I know what you're thinking, but let me explain myself.
The pastor has been saying that the Sunday school teacher needs help monitoring the kids because her class is so large now and perhaps even be a sub when she's sick. I have automatically ruled myself out as a candidate, but God spoke to me through my devotions.
I was reading about how Jesus taught that you must be a child if you want to enter the kingdom of heaven. That must mean that children have some redeeming qualities, right? How can I be a child when I don't understand them myself? Then, at the next service, God told me He wanted me to sign up. I didn't want to at first and ignored the feeling, but it's been bothering me all week. How could I say "no" to God?
It's been rough adjusting to them, but I'm trying. I've matured since my resolution to hate kids. Maybe now that I'm older, I've learned to understand them a bit more, or be able to find how to handle them without losing my patience. I'll just have to find out after I've helped out there longer.
There could be a slight personal motive too. The topic of kids came up a couple weeks ago with Tommy. He mentioned that he wanted to have some someday, and well, to be honest, if this is someone I want to spend the rest of my life with, I want to try to learn to like kids at least for his sake.
I have to log off now and work on my presentation. Pray for me that this whole thing with volunteering will pay off. Take care and I'll see you when you get back from vacation.
Much love,
Ruby
Dear Mom,
I got your phone call the other day. I couldn't answer back because I dropped my phone, and it won't work anymore. I think I need a new one. I decided to email my response.
Work is going well. Nothing to important. I have a big presentation next week that I've been planning for. After that's done, my boss is meeting with me to discuss my performance so far. I'm trying not to let my nerves get the best of me.
Tommy and I are happy still. I doubt a break-up is in sight. He told me to send you his love.
The biggest thing that I think has happened to me is that I have decided to volunteer in the children's church. I know what you're thinking, but let me explain myself.
The pastor has been saying that the Sunday school teacher needs help monitoring the kids because her class is so large now and perhaps even be a sub when she's sick. I have automatically ruled myself out as a candidate, but God spoke to me through my devotions.
I was reading about how Jesus taught that you must be a child if you want to enter the kingdom of heaven. That must mean that children have some redeeming qualities, right? How can I be a child when I don't understand them myself? Then, at the next service, God told me He wanted me to sign up. I didn't want to at first and ignored the feeling, but it's been bothering me all week. How could I say "no" to God?
It's been rough adjusting to them, but I'm trying. I've matured since my resolution to hate kids. Maybe now that I'm older, I've learned to understand them a bit more, or be able to find how to handle them without losing my patience. I'll just have to find out after I've helped out there longer.
There could be a slight personal motive too. The topic of kids came up a couple weeks ago with Tommy. He mentioned that he wanted to have some someday, and well, to be honest, if this is someone I want to spend the rest of my life with, I want to try to learn to like kids at least for his sake.
I have to log off now and work on my presentation. Pray for me that this whole thing with volunteering will pay off. Take care and I'll see you when you get back from vacation.
Much love,
Ruby
Day 143: Finding Ways to Cope
Should be Day 170.
The Prompt: Lilly pampers herself. What does she do and why?
"Will there be anything else, madam?"
"No, I think this is enough."
"Your total is $168.56."
Lilly handed the sales clerk her card and walked out of the store at the mall with four bags full of cute new outfits.
"I couldn't believe the sales that were in there!" her friend Kirsten exclaimed as she shifted her bags to her other arm. "I'm surprised you could afford that, Lilly."
"I've been saving up for a while." Indifference with a hint of pain could be detected in her voice. "Where do you want to go now?"
She laughed. "Where haven't we been? We went to the nail salon, I waited for you while you had a mini massage, and now we've shopped at three different stores."
"Then maybe it's time for a snack. I've been dying to get some frozen yogurt for days now."
"Alright. I think there's one on the first floor."
After they sat down at a table to eat their frozen treat, Lilly thought aloud, "That new movie with Christina Fairchild is out, isn't it? Do you want to see it with me?"
Kirsten swallowed. "Sure it sounds like fun. When?"
"After we're done eating."
"Today? Lilly, I can't afford it right now."
"Then I'll treat you."
Kirsten was about to say "no" when she saw the earnest look in her eyes. She thought about why Lilly had invited her out today in the first place. Although Lilly never said it, Kirsten was sure that she asked because she needed to distract her mind from seeing her old boyfriend Rick with Addison. Lilly insisted that she was fine, but after two weeks, it was obvious to Kirsten that her friend was still hurting and didn't want to be alone.
"I'd love to go with you."
"Great! Thanks, Kirsten. For agreeing to join me today in general. It means a lot to me." She squeezed her friend's hand.
"I know."
The Prompt: Lilly pampers herself. What does she do and why?
"Will there be anything else, madam?"
"No, I think this is enough."
"Your total is $168.56."
Lilly handed the sales clerk her card and walked out of the store at the mall with four bags full of cute new outfits.
"I couldn't believe the sales that were in there!" her friend Kirsten exclaimed as she shifted her bags to her other arm. "I'm surprised you could afford that, Lilly."
"I've been saving up for a while." Indifference with a hint of pain could be detected in her voice. "Where do you want to go now?"
She laughed. "Where haven't we been? We went to the nail salon, I waited for you while you had a mini massage, and now we've shopped at three different stores."
"Then maybe it's time for a snack. I've been dying to get some frozen yogurt for days now."
"Alright. I think there's one on the first floor."
After they sat down at a table to eat their frozen treat, Lilly thought aloud, "That new movie with Christina Fairchild is out, isn't it? Do you want to see it with me?"
Kirsten swallowed. "Sure it sounds like fun. When?"
"After we're done eating."
"Today? Lilly, I can't afford it right now."
"Then I'll treat you."
Kirsten was about to say "no" when she saw the earnest look in her eyes. She thought about why Lilly had invited her out today in the first place. Although Lilly never said it, Kirsten was sure that she asked because she needed to distract her mind from seeing her old boyfriend Rick with Addison. Lilly insisted that she was fine, but after two weeks, it was obvious to Kirsten that her friend was still hurting and didn't want to be alone.
"I'd love to go with you."
"Great! Thanks, Kirsten. For agreeing to join me today in general. It means a lot to me." She squeezed her friend's hand.
"I know."
Tuesday, June 18, 2013
Day 142: Mixed-up Church Items
The Prompt: For 90 seconds, write what you would see in a Catholic church. Now take
ten of those things and write a short story about them, but don’t set
them in a church.
I was just thinking about the Catholic church from my last posts.
Stained glass windows, hymnals, a bowl of water, a bishop's hat, benches to kneel on, an organ, bread and juice for the Last Supper, a Bible, pews, tapestries, announcement board, pulpit, choir, Statue of Mother Mary.
I am going to use stained glass windows, an organ, hymnals, a choir, the Virgin Mary statue, a bowl of water, a Bible, a bishop's hat, an announcement board, and tapestries.
Jacob carried his bishop's hat and robe costume into the dressing room of the theater. Playing the bishop from Shakepeare's Henry V was a large honor. He had rehearsed his lines nearly nonstop for the past two months and was confident he was doing great.
He stared around at the other members of his acting crew gathering together. The choir members were practicing their opening song. It was ambitious for the director to have a choir singing some of the narration, but this was a theater. The set directors were placing the Virgin Mary and organ props onstage. One girl was having trouble adjusting the tapestries in the background. No matter what she did to it, the left side was still crooked.
"Here's your Bible, Jacob" his friend handed him the Bible, meant as a prop. Jacob was pleased he actually had an excuse to carry his Bible around in public. "I looked at the announcement board out front," he continued. "They ran out of tickets!"
"That's exciting. Maybe we'll raise so much money for the community that we can afford to replace the church's stained glass windows."
"Yeah, that would be great! Well, see you out there. Good luck, Jacob!"
"Thanks!"
I was just thinking about the Catholic church from my last posts.
Stained glass windows, hymnals, a bowl of water, a bishop's hat, benches to kneel on, an organ, bread and juice for the Last Supper, a Bible, pews, tapestries, announcement board, pulpit, choir, Statue of Mother Mary.
I am going to use stained glass windows, an organ, hymnals, a choir, the Virgin Mary statue, a bowl of water, a Bible, a bishop's hat, an announcement board, and tapestries.
Jacob carried his bishop's hat and robe costume into the dressing room of the theater. Playing the bishop from Shakepeare's Henry V was a large honor. He had rehearsed his lines nearly nonstop for the past two months and was confident he was doing great.
He stared around at the other members of his acting crew gathering together. The choir members were practicing their opening song. It was ambitious for the director to have a choir singing some of the narration, but this was a theater. The set directors were placing the Virgin Mary and organ props onstage. One girl was having trouble adjusting the tapestries in the background. No matter what she did to it, the left side was still crooked.
"Here's your Bible, Jacob" his friend handed him the Bible, meant as a prop. Jacob was pleased he actually had an excuse to carry his Bible around in public. "I looked at the announcement board out front," he continued. "They ran out of tickets!"
"That's exciting. Maybe we'll raise so much money for the community that we can afford to replace the church's stained glass windows."
"Yeah, that would be great! Well, see you out there. Good luck, Jacob!"
"Thanks!"
Day 141: Church from a Religious POV Part 3
The Prompt: Write about church from an unsaved person’s POV. Now write about church
from a saved person’s POV. Write a third story from a religious
person’s POV. Notice how each story changed?
It's nice to see so many like-minded individuals gathered together for church. Paul says that the church needs to be one body, showing His love for each other, and I like seeing that our church does that. Now to find my normal seat in the center of the third row. I'll read my Bible while I wait for church to begin.
Worship seems nice today. That last song they played was a little too "modern" for my taste. I must remember to raise my hands for the next song. I already put my 10% tithe last Sunday. I don't need to give anything this week.
The pastor's sermon is one of my favorite topics in Scripture. More people need to practice not conforming to the world. Take this couple in front of me. He's wearing a baseball cap and she has jeans on. No respect anymore for the Holy Lord's wonderful church. We Christians must unite and adhere to exactly what the Bible says as much as we can.
It's nice to see so many like-minded individuals gathered together for church. Paul says that the church needs to be one body, showing His love for each other, and I like seeing that our church does that. Now to find my normal seat in the center of the third row. I'll read my Bible while I wait for church to begin.
Worship seems nice today. That last song they played was a little too "modern" for my taste. I must remember to raise my hands for the next song. I already put my 10% tithe last Sunday. I don't need to give anything this week.
The pastor's sermon is one of my favorite topics in Scripture. More people need to practice not conforming to the world. Take this couple in front of me. He's wearing a baseball cap and she has jeans on. No respect anymore for the Holy Lord's wonderful church. We Christians must unite and adhere to exactly what the Bible says as much as we can.
Day 140: Church from an Saved Person's POV Part 2 of 3
The Prompt: Write about church from an unsaved person’s POV. Now write about church
from a saved person’s POV. Write a third story from a religious
person’s POV. Notice how each story changed?
I can just feel the love and Christian fellowship permeating the air! Everyone is smiling and laughing and actually taking the time to get to know each other. I love being surrounded by all this love and support. I know so many friends now, and they really care about me. They're willing to help in any way that they can. I know I can talk to them about anything. I couldn't ask for a better family!
I can't decide whether I enjoy the worship service or sermon better. The songs fill my heart with such hope, and some of the lyrics help me lift such a heavy burden. I can feel God standing next to me. I'm not afraid to lift my hands to show God I surrender to Him. I'm so happy that I could hug the whole congregation. The pastor is such a funny man. His words as so wise and really show me new perspectives to the verses. I know I've only been a Christian for a month now, but it has transformed my life.
I can just feel the love and Christian fellowship permeating the air! Everyone is smiling and laughing and actually taking the time to get to know each other. I love being surrounded by all this love and support. I know so many friends now, and they really care about me. They're willing to help in any way that they can. I know I can talk to them about anything. I couldn't ask for a better family!
I can't decide whether I enjoy the worship service or sermon better. The songs fill my heart with such hope, and some of the lyrics help me lift such a heavy burden. I can feel God standing next to me. I'm not afraid to lift my hands to show God I surrender to Him. I'm so happy that I could hug the whole congregation. The pastor is such a funny man. His words as so wise and really show me new perspectives to the verses. I know I've only been a Christian for a month now, but it has transformed my life.
Day 139: Church from an Unsaved Person's POV Part 1of 3
The Prompt: Write about church from an unsaved person’s POV. Now write about church
from a saved person’s POV. Write a third story from a religious
person’s POV. Notice how each story changed?
Everyone looks so fake. They're smiling and shaking hands. No one is that cheerful. They must be on something. Or maybe it's a psychological trick to lure you in. That's what the whole place is, a gimmick. They say all the right things, try to appeal to your sympathies and guilts and troubles, and right when you're at their most vulnerable, they get you to convert. They probably have a contest to see which church has the most converts. They don't really care about you once you (how do they) "accept Jesus." You get ignored. Those pastors and ushers probably pocket all the offering money too.
I'm so uncomfortable in here, with all this singing and raising hands. The lyrics don't make sense. Now they want me to hug some stranger! I'm not sure why I told my friend that I would come. I'll be polite and listen to what this pastor is saying, but I don't believe it. Christianity is too antiquated to be effective anymore. A couple of the things they say are nice, but a religion just isn't for me.
Everyone looks so fake. They're smiling and shaking hands. No one is that cheerful. They must be on something. Or maybe it's a psychological trick to lure you in. That's what the whole place is, a gimmick. They say all the right things, try to appeal to your sympathies and guilts and troubles, and right when you're at their most vulnerable, they get you to convert. They probably have a contest to see which church has the most converts. They don't really care about you once you (how do they) "accept Jesus." You get ignored. Those pastors and ushers probably pocket all the offering money too.
I'm so uncomfortable in here, with all this singing and raising hands. The lyrics don't make sense. Now they want me to hug some stranger! I'm not sure why I told my friend that I would come. I'll be polite and listen to what this pastor is saying, but I don't believe it. Christianity is too antiquated to be effective anymore. A couple of the things they say are nice, but a religion just isn't for me.
Day 138: Our Daily Bread
Should be Day 169.
You hear this phrase often in prayers, but have you thought about what it means? I was thinking about it the other day. This article has a few explanations for the phrase. While I'm not sure if my explanation is exactly right, here is what I think of when I hear the phrase.
Bread is food that we need to survive. It used to be an essential part of a diet and contained important nutrients. "Our daily bread" is our spiritual food to nourish our soul. Normally, I think this phrase is associated with devotions or inspirational stories to fill us with hope, but why would Jesus ask God for that? Praying and reading our Bible is something we do for God, not what He gives us.
When God gives us our daily bread, I think He is giving us a special moment in the day to stop and reflect on Him. This could refer back to my "Special Sign" post. For example, let's say you're reading the news about a terrible storm, but there are also good things that happen despite the devastation. Special property is miraculously saved. Family members are reunited after one had been trapped for days. God is reminding us that He still cares for us. That's an indirect reminder of His love. Perhaps a family member says or does an unexpected good deed. That's a gesture of God's love through others.
Doing devotions could lead to a more direct dose of daily bread. God could speak to you through the Word about how you should change your life to become more like Him. However it happens, "our daily bread" are the things in life God gives us that bring hope, joy, and strength to help us get through the day.
You hear this phrase often in prayers, but have you thought about what it means? I was thinking about it the other day. This article has a few explanations for the phrase. While I'm not sure if my explanation is exactly right, here is what I think of when I hear the phrase.
Bread is food that we need to survive. It used to be an essential part of a diet and contained important nutrients. "Our daily bread" is our spiritual food to nourish our soul. Normally, I think this phrase is associated with devotions or inspirational stories to fill us with hope, but why would Jesus ask God for that? Praying and reading our Bible is something we do for God, not what He gives us.
When God gives us our daily bread, I think He is giving us a special moment in the day to stop and reflect on Him. This could refer back to my "Special Sign" post. For example, let's say you're reading the news about a terrible storm, but there are also good things that happen despite the devastation. Special property is miraculously saved. Family members are reunited after one had been trapped for days. God is reminding us that He still cares for us. That's an indirect reminder of His love. Perhaps a family member says or does an unexpected good deed. That's a gesture of God's love through others.
Doing devotions could lead to a more direct dose of daily bread. God could speak to you through the Word about how you should change your life to become more like Him. However it happens, "our daily bread" are the things in life God gives us that bring hope, joy, and strength to help us get through the day.
Monday, June 17, 2013
Day 137: The Great Reunion
I was just thinking about the previous post I wrote, and I couldn't stop thinking about how all the Christians and heroes of the Bible will be living alongside the Christians now (or will be living with future Christians). It blows my mind to think. We all dream about meeting Bible characters or being reunited with loved ones. I never thought about eventually being able to interact with old friends who moved away or Christians we've gotten to know over the internet that we might never meet in person. It seems like that would happen, right? What's even cooler to think is that God is the person behind all those Christians we want to meet. He created them that way and was the inspiration to make them engaging persons to us. That makes me want to meet Jesus even more.
Day 136: Jesus' Kingdom
The Prompt: Describe what the world will be like when Jesus comes back and rules.
Disclaimer: I am NOT knowledgeable about Jesus' second coming. I apologize that there are several errors in this. Please try to suspend what the Bible says about it and read this as semi-imaginative, not necessarily true. I'm going to take a more light-hearted approach to this. Substitute your favorite things in here to create your dream kingdom.
It's obvious that when Jesus comes back, all the nonbelievers will leave the earth, the previously living Christians will be resurrected in new bodies and all the earth will be new. I imagine that Jesus will restore the earth to how it was at Creation. The ocean will be full, the icebergs tall, and the air pollutant-free. The war-ravaged fields will be just as green and flourishing as they once were. The lakes will be clear. Who knows, maybe dinosaurs, carrier pigeons, and do-do birds will be back on the Earth. Jesus will have unicorns too. Maybe He can even ride on a brilliant white pegasus while wearing a gold crown and royal purple robe.
Perhaps to celebrate His return, He'll want to create some new things. Have you ever wanted a safe, friendly pet dragon of your own? Trees of life would be growing everywhere. A new tart yet sweet fruit can grow on vines, and newly discovered rainbow petaled flowers will be able to grow on the rolling green hills.
Jesus ruling the earth will be even more exciting. Imagine tattling to Jesus instead of your parents! Humans would be more intelligent than they are now, but still nothing compared to Jesus' wisdom. He would ensure everyone is surrounded by their favorite things and have their fair share of possessions. No one would ever feel slighted, disappointed, jealous, or that the world was unjust ever again. We all would live in perfect love and harmony.
I'm sure Jesus would grow the world large enough so that every family unit would have their own dream house with dream bedrooms and their own parcel of land. Some would have larger plots and others would have smaller ones based on their heart's desires. There could even be a few river boats or houses on the ocean for those whose hearts belong on the water.
My bedroom would have a large built-in bookcase with a cushioned window seat and a desk, with a soft large rug to do activities on the floor. Ivy would be growing at least near my windows. On our acre or so of land, there'd be rose bushes, an arbor and gazebo, a bridge over a stream, and a small pond or lake with trees everywhere.
Traveling to different parts of the world would be extremely easy to do. A set time for worship would be four times a day with a church within walking distance to attend every morning. I bet the pastor would be Jesus' speech projected on a screen. Everyone would have to work a little to avoid laziness, but all would be for the benefit of the community.
Jesus would have a set day in the week to give to others or visit our neighbors. The best part would be that every day, Jesus would spend an entire day at each house. It would take some time for us to have Him as our guest, but it would be the most exciting time to look forward to. Through prayer and the messages and in church, and the constant reminders of Him on earth, we'd never feel like He would be gone from us.
Disclaimer: I am NOT knowledgeable about Jesus' second coming. I apologize that there are several errors in this. Please try to suspend what the Bible says about it and read this as semi-imaginative, not necessarily true. I'm going to take a more light-hearted approach to this. Substitute your favorite things in here to create your dream kingdom.
It's obvious that when Jesus comes back, all the nonbelievers will leave the earth, the previously living Christians will be resurrected in new bodies and all the earth will be new. I imagine that Jesus will restore the earth to how it was at Creation. The ocean will be full, the icebergs tall, and the air pollutant-free. The war-ravaged fields will be just as green and flourishing as they once were. The lakes will be clear. Who knows, maybe dinosaurs, carrier pigeons, and do-do birds will be back on the Earth. Jesus will have unicorns too. Maybe He can even ride on a brilliant white pegasus while wearing a gold crown and royal purple robe.
Perhaps to celebrate His return, He'll want to create some new things. Have you ever wanted a safe, friendly pet dragon of your own? Trees of life would be growing everywhere. A new tart yet sweet fruit can grow on vines, and newly discovered rainbow petaled flowers will be able to grow on the rolling green hills.
Jesus ruling the earth will be even more exciting. Imagine tattling to Jesus instead of your parents! Humans would be more intelligent than they are now, but still nothing compared to Jesus' wisdom. He would ensure everyone is surrounded by their favorite things and have their fair share of possessions. No one would ever feel slighted, disappointed, jealous, or that the world was unjust ever again. We all would live in perfect love and harmony.
I'm sure Jesus would grow the world large enough so that every family unit would have their own dream house with dream bedrooms and their own parcel of land. Some would have larger plots and others would have smaller ones based on their heart's desires. There could even be a few river boats or houses on the ocean for those whose hearts belong on the water.
My bedroom would have a large built-in bookcase with a cushioned window seat and a desk, with a soft large rug to do activities on the floor. Ivy would be growing at least near my windows. On our acre or so of land, there'd be rose bushes, an arbor and gazebo, a bridge over a stream, and a small pond or lake with trees everywhere.
Traveling to different parts of the world would be extremely easy to do. A set time for worship would be four times a day with a church within walking distance to attend every morning. I bet the pastor would be Jesus' speech projected on a screen. Everyone would have to work a little to avoid laziness, but all would be for the benefit of the community.
Jesus would have a set day in the week to give to others or visit our neighbors. The best part would be that every day, Jesus would spend an entire day at each house. It would take some time for us to have Him as our guest, but it would be the most exciting time to look forward to. Through prayer and the messages and in church, and the constant reminders of Him on earth, we'd never feel like He would be gone from us.
Day 135: Special Sign
Should be Day 168. This story is inspired by something a guest speaker in church said. She had been at a low time her life, and she asked God for a sign, significant just to her, to remind her of His love. It was beautiful. My story will come nowhere close to hers, but this is merely to give you an idea.
Aubrey fingered the sculpted porcelain girl that was on her dresser. It was the last thing her mother had bought for her before she left. Aubrey had been so excited when she had brought it home from her stay in Europe. The girl was dressed in a striped beach dress and floppy hat sitting on a rock. Aubrey envisioned the waves lapping against the boulder and wrapping around the beach girl's ankles. Aubrey's mother had told her that they would get a chance to visit the sea together on her next trip. Too bad that never happened.
Aubrey squeezed her eyes shut in an attempt to get rid of the bitter memories. She rose from the circular cushion in front of her vanity and brushed out her hair. If she didn't hurry, she'd be late for work. That was the last thing she needed right now.
Last month, her boyfriend of seven months had broken up with her because he didn't feel close to her anymore. He had claimed that she had changed. Aubrey insisted that she hadn't. It was only the effects of finding her mother had abandoned her after never coming back from her last trip. Her mother had always been flighty and irresponsible as an opera singer. The tours were demanding and her mother loved the special attention. Sometimes she had stayed an extra day or two in the city to experience some of the tourist destinations. After two weeks of not hearing from her or being able to get a hold of her, Aubrey knew that she was not coming back. She was nineteen now and fully capable of taking care of herself, but it still wounded her deeply knowing that her mother loved Boston more than she loved her.
Her boyfriend felt sympathy for Aubrey, but almost two months of lamenting her mother's absence as though she had died was too much for him. Aubrey had felt even more alone. Then, her boss laid her off due to budget cuts. Aubrey was already numb from losing her mother and boyfriend to feel very upset about this. She was in that state of mind where she felt her apartment burning down wouldn't have been a surprise. She had sense enough to look for another job and found one as a receptionist in a dentist's office. It was quite a dull job, but Aubrey reassured herself it was only temporary. Despite this promise, she hadn't willed herself to look for another job yet.
"Good morning, Aubrey!" her co-worker Dawn greeted as Aubrey walked in.
"Hi."
"You look good this morning. Wearing black again, I see."
"Black matches everything."
"Your skin is dark enough without you wearing black too. You need to wear more bright colors like pink or blue. It is the spring season."
"I don't feel much like pink right now." Aubrey sat down at her computer and began checking the appointments log for that morning.
The day dragged on as normal. Patients came in and out. An occasional baby wailed, and Aubrey had to stop one boy from giving the walls some artistic flair.
"Your teeth look lovely, Mrs. Walsh," Aubrey half-heartedly complimented the older woman when she came up to the desk to pay.
"Thank you, dear. After the third appointment, I should hope so." She chuckled as she pulled out her wallet. "How much would it be today?"
"After your insurance, $78.65."
Mrs. Walsh rifled through her wallet to get the correct bills when she gasped slightly. "I nearly forgot. Have you ever heard of the Castaways?"
Aubrey smiled. "Yeah, they're a great alternative rock band. Why do you ask?"
"I bought this concert ticket for my son's birthday, but I found out the other day that he is planning a trip for the day of the concert. I can't give him the ticket now, and I can't return it. Would you like it?"
Aubrey's eyes widened. "Sure, I'd love it. Thank you!"
Mrs. Walsh pulled the ticket out of her wallet and handed it to her. "No problem. At least somebody can use it. I heard it was supposed to be really good. They were going to play a couple of their new songs. And it's down by the beach, so there's going to be a bonfire and everything."
Aubrey stared at the ticket in disbelief. She was actually going to a Castaways concert. At the beach. After months, she felt truly excited about something.
I encourage you to spend this week looking out for your own special reminders from God that He loves you.
Aubrey fingered the sculpted porcelain girl that was on her dresser. It was the last thing her mother had bought for her before she left. Aubrey had been so excited when she had brought it home from her stay in Europe. The girl was dressed in a striped beach dress and floppy hat sitting on a rock. Aubrey envisioned the waves lapping against the boulder and wrapping around the beach girl's ankles. Aubrey's mother had told her that they would get a chance to visit the sea together on her next trip. Too bad that never happened.
Aubrey squeezed her eyes shut in an attempt to get rid of the bitter memories. She rose from the circular cushion in front of her vanity and brushed out her hair. If she didn't hurry, she'd be late for work. That was the last thing she needed right now.
Last month, her boyfriend of seven months had broken up with her because he didn't feel close to her anymore. He had claimed that she had changed. Aubrey insisted that she hadn't. It was only the effects of finding her mother had abandoned her after never coming back from her last trip. Her mother had always been flighty and irresponsible as an opera singer. The tours were demanding and her mother loved the special attention. Sometimes she had stayed an extra day or two in the city to experience some of the tourist destinations. After two weeks of not hearing from her or being able to get a hold of her, Aubrey knew that she was not coming back. She was nineteen now and fully capable of taking care of herself, but it still wounded her deeply knowing that her mother loved Boston more than she loved her.
Her boyfriend felt sympathy for Aubrey, but almost two months of lamenting her mother's absence as though she had died was too much for him. Aubrey had felt even more alone. Then, her boss laid her off due to budget cuts. Aubrey was already numb from losing her mother and boyfriend to feel very upset about this. She was in that state of mind where she felt her apartment burning down wouldn't have been a surprise. She had sense enough to look for another job and found one as a receptionist in a dentist's office. It was quite a dull job, but Aubrey reassured herself it was only temporary. Despite this promise, she hadn't willed herself to look for another job yet.
"Good morning, Aubrey!" her co-worker Dawn greeted as Aubrey walked in.
"Hi."
"You look good this morning. Wearing black again, I see."
"Black matches everything."
"Your skin is dark enough without you wearing black too. You need to wear more bright colors like pink or blue. It is the spring season."
"I don't feel much like pink right now." Aubrey sat down at her computer and began checking the appointments log for that morning.
The day dragged on as normal. Patients came in and out. An occasional baby wailed, and Aubrey had to stop one boy from giving the walls some artistic flair.
"Your teeth look lovely, Mrs. Walsh," Aubrey half-heartedly complimented the older woman when she came up to the desk to pay.
"Thank you, dear. After the third appointment, I should hope so." She chuckled as she pulled out her wallet. "How much would it be today?"
"After your insurance, $78.65."
Mrs. Walsh rifled through her wallet to get the correct bills when she gasped slightly. "I nearly forgot. Have you ever heard of the Castaways?"
Aubrey smiled. "Yeah, they're a great alternative rock band. Why do you ask?"
"I bought this concert ticket for my son's birthday, but I found out the other day that he is planning a trip for the day of the concert. I can't give him the ticket now, and I can't return it. Would you like it?"
Aubrey's eyes widened. "Sure, I'd love it. Thank you!"
Mrs. Walsh pulled the ticket out of her wallet and handed it to her. "No problem. At least somebody can use it. I heard it was supposed to be really good. They were going to play a couple of their new songs. And it's down by the beach, so there's going to be a bonfire and everything."
Aubrey stared at the ticket in disbelief. She was actually going to a Castaways concert. At the beach. After months, she felt truly excited about something.
I encourage you to spend this week looking out for your own special reminders from God that He loves you.
Saturday, June 15, 2013
Day 134: Another Facet of Love
To focus on something more positive now, I wanted to turn your attention to something I came across in Ephesians 4:2. That verse says that we as Christians must be patient, so making allowances for each others' faults because of love. I hadn't thought of love in that way before. It's hard to patient, and dealing with annoying bad habits from our friends or family can really grate on our nerves. That's what we're supposed to do when we love others and accept them for who they are. Things get more interesting though when you anticipate that a person will sin and even get on your nerves. We're humans, and those emotions are guaranteed to occur. Since this fact is such obvious knowledge, why don't we prepare for it by expecting a person to hurt us or annoy us? That way it won't come as such a surprise. Plus, putting up with an easy-going person is not hard. Still showing patient love to someone who bugs us to death shows true love and devotion.
Day 133: Victim of a Two-Timer Part 2
The Prompt: The guy who dumped Lilly is now sitting three rows ahead of her in
church. A pretty blond is sitting next to him and she puts her head on
his shoulder. He dumped Lilly because he said he needed to get closer
to God. Write two stories, one that is full of conflict, the other full
of sorrow.
And now for the story full of sorrow.
Right before I was about to get up to leave, Pastor Reynolds announced that it was time for a prayer for the offering. I couldn't leave now. Sitting back down, I squeezed my eyes shut. I tuned out the pastor's prayer for one of my own.
"Please, God, please, find it in Your heart to take this anger from me. Help me to concentrate on You right now, for You're the most important person to me, and I need to focus on You, especially while I'm in church."
I gave a large sigh after the bucket passed me and determined to stare only at the pulpit, not them. Pastor Reynolds' warm voice was comforting and forced myself to write down some notes on the sermon. I heard something drop from a few rows in front and saw Rick picking something up and handing it to her Addison. He was giving her the smile he used to give me. I bet an outsider would have thought they had been a couple for years. They were so comfortable towards each other, and happy.
Why did Rick have to lie to me like that? He was so honest and terrific to me before. Obviously, I was wrong about his character. What was wrong with me? Hadn't I shown enough love towards him? I thought we were happy. I was. Is it because I'm not a blond? Is it because I'm not as thin as a model or can't afford clothes like that, or don't have time to spend making myself look beautiful with all that makeup?
Why did I have to fall in love with him? Why didn't God save me from the heartache? Why didn't she like someone else? Why am I hurt, again?
I willed back the tears that were surfacing and stared straight ahead, half hoping the pastor would see my face and figure out what to say in his sermon to help me. I needed God more than ever.
And now for the story full of sorrow.
Right before I was about to get up to leave, Pastor Reynolds announced that it was time for a prayer for the offering. I couldn't leave now. Sitting back down, I squeezed my eyes shut. I tuned out the pastor's prayer for one of my own.
"Please, God, please, find it in Your heart to take this anger from me. Help me to concentrate on You right now, for You're the most important person to me, and I need to focus on You, especially while I'm in church."
I gave a large sigh after the bucket passed me and determined to stare only at the pulpit, not them. Pastor Reynolds' warm voice was comforting and forced myself to write down some notes on the sermon. I heard something drop from a few rows in front and saw Rick picking something up and handing it to her Addison. He was giving her the smile he used to give me. I bet an outsider would have thought they had been a couple for years. They were so comfortable towards each other, and happy.
Why did Rick have to lie to me like that? He was so honest and terrific to me before. Obviously, I was wrong about his character. What was wrong with me? Hadn't I shown enough love towards him? I thought we were happy. I was. Is it because I'm not a blond? Is it because I'm not as thin as a model or can't afford clothes like that, or don't have time to spend making myself look beautiful with all that makeup?
Why did I have to fall in love with him? Why didn't God save me from the heartache? Why didn't she like someone else? Why am I hurt, again?
I willed back the tears that were surfacing and stared straight ahead, half hoping the pastor would see my face and figure out what to say in his sermon to help me. I needed God more than ever.
Day 132: Victim of a Two-Timer Part 1 of 2
The Prompt: The guy who dumped Lilly is now sitting three rows ahead of her in
church. A pretty blond is sitting next to him and she puts her head on
his shoulder. He dumped Lilly because he said he needed to get closer
to God. Write two stories, one that is full of conflict, the other full
of sorrow.
Should be Day 166. I will be telling the story full of conflict first.
Lilly had been uncomfortable enough when she saw Rick sit down in front of her. He always used to sit next to her in church. A month had passed since he broke up with her, and she was still struggling with his presence in church but not being able to be with him. Church was supposed to be a place to focus all your energy on God, not trying to forget someone else. The past few Sundays, he had sat out of eyesight. Why, of all days, did he have to sit in front, where her eyes were supposed to be on the preacher?
The distraction of his presence was nothing compared to what she felt when she saw Addison sit down beside him. Rick shouldn't even be involved with that hypocritical woman who had moved there a few months back. She and Rick had volunteered to help at the booths during the church fair. Lilly had been a little jealous when she saw how they were acting, but she put the thought behind her when Rick took her to see a movie later that night. Lilly still couldn't shake the feeling that Addison was bad news, and it wasn't that she was prejudiced either. Addison was the type to wear vibrant eyeshadow over her dark lashes, glossy lipstick, and designer clothes. Lilly never saw her without a fresh manicure, and she was convinced blond was not Addison's natural hair color. It was her insincerity towards God and the congregation that alerted Lilly to her fake front. Addison claimed she was a Christian, but she showed up to only half the services. Lilly noticed that she didn't sing during worship and tended to gossip after services. There were other things too, but Lilly tried to look past them.
How could Rick do this to her?! His break-up speech, stinging her heart whenever she thought of it, stabbed her deeper in the heart when she watched Addison rest her hairsprayed wavy tresses on his broad shoulder.
"It's nothing personal, Lilly, honest. I just feel that being involved with a woman in general is distracting me from my relationship with God. I can't think straight, and I don't feel very close to Him right now. That needs to change. I'm going to put my whole energy into praying, devotions, and serving God. I'm staying single until I can get this fixed. Then, maybe you can find it in your heart to go out with me again."
A Christian shouldn't feel so much rage, but Lilly couldn't stop her racing thoughts. It was impossible for Rick to have become strong with God again in only a month. All that time, he had practically ignored her. The only consolations she had were that he was spending time with God, who came first, and that he would be coming back to her. So much for that promise! They must have been going out at least a few times for Addison to be so friendly with him already. She should be the one in his arms, that twit!
Lilly bit her tongue after she realized what she thinking. Maybe it would be better if she just left. God deserved better from her.
Should be Day 166. I will be telling the story full of conflict first.
Lilly had been uncomfortable enough when she saw Rick sit down in front of her. He always used to sit next to her in church. A month had passed since he broke up with her, and she was still struggling with his presence in church but not being able to be with him. Church was supposed to be a place to focus all your energy on God, not trying to forget someone else. The past few Sundays, he had sat out of eyesight. Why, of all days, did he have to sit in front, where her eyes were supposed to be on the preacher?
The distraction of his presence was nothing compared to what she felt when she saw Addison sit down beside him. Rick shouldn't even be involved with that hypocritical woman who had moved there a few months back. She and Rick had volunteered to help at the booths during the church fair. Lilly had been a little jealous when she saw how they were acting, but she put the thought behind her when Rick took her to see a movie later that night. Lilly still couldn't shake the feeling that Addison was bad news, and it wasn't that she was prejudiced either. Addison was the type to wear vibrant eyeshadow over her dark lashes, glossy lipstick, and designer clothes. Lilly never saw her without a fresh manicure, and she was convinced blond was not Addison's natural hair color. It was her insincerity towards God and the congregation that alerted Lilly to her fake front. Addison claimed she was a Christian, but she showed up to only half the services. Lilly noticed that she didn't sing during worship and tended to gossip after services. There were other things too, but Lilly tried to look past them.
How could Rick do this to her?! His break-up speech, stinging her heart whenever she thought of it, stabbed her deeper in the heart when she watched Addison rest her hairsprayed wavy tresses on his broad shoulder.
"It's nothing personal, Lilly, honest. I just feel that being involved with a woman in general is distracting me from my relationship with God. I can't think straight, and I don't feel very close to Him right now. That needs to change. I'm going to put my whole energy into praying, devotions, and serving God. I'm staying single until I can get this fixed. Then, maybe you can find it in your heart to go out with me again."
A Christian shouldn't feel so much rage, but Lilly couldn't stop her racing thoughts. It was impossible for Rick to have become strong with God again in only a month. All that time, he had practically ignored her. The only consolations she had were that he was spending time with God, who came first, and that he would be coming back to her. So much for that promise! They must have been going out at least a few times for Addison to be so friendly with him already. She should be the one in his arms, that twit!
Lilly bit her tongue after she realized what she thinking. Maybe it would be better if she just left. God deserved better from her.
Friday, June 14, 2013
Day 131: My Favorite Season
The Prompt: Which season do you like best? Why? Describe.
This is a tricky question for a couple reasons. Now that I live in Hawaii, I don't necessarily experience seasons. The locals say there are two seasons, the wet and rainy seasons. I can notice that the days can get longer and shorter, although not as drastic as on the mainland, and sometimes I can feel a slight temperature change. I can use my memory of seasons.
Another problem I have is that I think my favorite season has changed since I was little. I used to say my favorite season was summer, merely because I could have no school. While I still enjoy doing what I want all summer, I have come to appreciate the beauty that each season has to offer, along with the excite of birthdays and holidays.
I'd like to say that now my favorite season is spring. Springtime represents growth and ushers in new life, with the end of winter. It brings hope and sunshine. Flowers begin growing, butterflies flutter, and birds twitter. Easter is the epitome of all those beautiful ideas, so it seems fitting that it is in spring. Jesus gives us all a second chance in life and eternal hope. For our family, spring is the birthday season, with three birthdays. Then with Memorial Day, we have a tasty cookout with hamburgers and grilled chicken and vegetables. There's always some family activity we do. Plus, the excitement for summer is felt with almost everyone.
Day 130: Three Monsters
Jealousy~ Fearful or wary of being supplanted; apprehensive of losing affection or position.
2.
a. Resentful or bitter in rivalry; envious: jealous of the success of others.
b. Inclined to suspect rivalry.
3. Having to do with or arising from feelings of envy, apprehension, or bitterness: jealous thoughts.
In the land of Nog there lived a posse of monsters. Grindle was a green furry monster with wiry fur and yellow fangs. Jekko's fur was red, tinted gray from all the dirt he'd play around in, and he had two knobs on his head above his ears. Smotch was lemony yellow with a long spiny tail. Grindle's parents had died in a massacre caused by humans several years ago, leaving him with a substantial fortune. Grindle used that money to buy himself a ginormous house with a huge yard, and he filled every room and drawer with the latest gadgets and exciting collectibles. The two monsters loved coming over to Grindle's house to hang out, just so they could see his collections. Grindle was protective over his possessions. His nick-knacks were behind glass, he never let his friends touch them, and he was often surfing his laptop or phone for more things to add in his house.
"Don't you think you have enough stuff?" Smotch would ask.
"No! You can never have too much I say."
"I don't know about that."
Smotch and Jekko would meet up with Grindle every Tuesday and Friday evening to play cards, watch movies, or do something dangerous like visit a human's house. Smotch tended to be the leader of their group, leading discussions, giving ideas for what they could do next, or merely talking to fill the air. Grindle tended to be silent when he surfed, and Jekko didn't speak much because he was too busy staring at the objects in Grindle's house.
Jekko was a poor monster. He barely finished school and tended to be lazy. This combination equaled a job at minimal wage. He couldn't afford much else besides necessities, and every time he was in Grindle's house, he became more upset that he couldn't own some of the nice things Grindle had too. It's all he could think about, and the anger, discontent, and overall malaise that lingered in his heart only intensified when he was in Grindle's house.
As time went on, the trio continued to hang out, but they were so disconnected and unhappy that their friendship was a shadow. Something needed to be done to fix it. For the time being, they ignored the problem.
Day 129: Hands are Beautiful Things
Should be Day 165.
Some people have parents who are neurosurgeons or bank managers. Some own businesses or control large corporations. Other kids at my school have parents who do cool things, like sell Tupperware or build furniture. My friend's mother is a teacher. My mother is a cleaning lady. Now I know what you're thinking. We must be poor or my mom must not have finished high school. That's true for most people, but not my family. We're not rich, but we're comfortable, if both of my parents work. My mom just needed a small job. She could work in retail or even have a computer science job if she wanted, but she prefers it this way.
"Mom," I asked her once. "Why on earth do you want to be a cleaning lady? There's plenty of better jobs out there that aren't so..."
"Humiliating?"
"Yeah," I hung my head.
"Tammy, look at the end of your arms and tell me what you see."
"My hands?" I wasn't sure if she wanted such an obvious answer.
"And what do you do with them?"
My eyebrows twisted high as I stared at her earnest face.
"I eat with them. I can brush my hair and pick up things with them."
"Those are the obvious answers. What else?"
"I can...do chores?"
I could hear a soft giggle. "Tammy, when I was a little girl, I used to stare at my mother's hands and think about how beautiful they were. It's not that they were lovely to behold. The beauty was in what they did. Those hands held me when I was first born, bathed and took care of my as I grew up, wiped away my tears, squeezed my own tightly when I was afraid to get my shots, prepared my meals, cleaned up my toys, kept the house clean, washed my clothes, drove me to school, wrote down the answers to my homework when I was sick, and embraced me every night before I went to bed. I decided long ago that I wanted to be a servant the way my mother's hands were. Cleaning houses and babysitting seem to be the closest way to achieving that."
"That's pretty cool." I stopped my mom before she walked away. "Hey, Mom? Thanks, for all you did for me with your hands."
Some people have parents who are neurosurgeons or bank managers. Some own businesses or control large corporations. Other kids at my school have parents who do cool things, like sell Tupperware or build furniture. My friend's mother is a teacher. My mother is a cleaning lady. Now I know what you're thinking. We must be poor or my mom must not have finished high school. That's true for most people, but not my family. We're not rich, but we're comfortable, if both of my parents work. My mom just needed a small job. She could work in retail or even have a computer science job if she wanted, but she prefers it this way.
"Mom," I asked her once. "Why on earth do you want to be a cleaning lady? There's plenty of better jobs out there that aren't so..."
"Humiliating?"
"Yeah," I hung my head.
"Tammy, look at the end of your arms and tell me what you see."
"My hands?" I wasn't sure if she wanted such an obvious answer.
"And what do you do with them?"
My eyebrows twisted high as I stared at her earnest face.
"I eat with them. I can brush my hair and pick up things with them."
"Those are the obvious answers. What else?"
"I can...do chores?"
I could hear a soft giggle. "Tammy, when I was a little girl, I used to stare at my mother's hands and think about how beautiful they were. It's not that they were lovely to behold. The beauty was in what they did. Those hands held me when I was first born, bathed and took care of my as I grew up, wiped away my tears, squeezed my own tightly when I was afraid to get my shots, prepared my meals, cleaned up my toys, kept the house clean, washed my clothes, drove me to school, wrote down the answers to my homework when I was sick, and embraced me every night before I went to bed. I decided long ago that I wanted to be a servant the way my mother's hands were. Cleaning houses and babysitting seem to be the closest way to achieving that."
"That's pretty cool." I stopped my mom before she walked away. "Hey, Mom? Thanks, for all you did for me with your hands."
Wednesday, June 12, 2013
Day 128: Atheism vs. Christianity
Granted, I'm sure not atheists are mean like this. It's an exaggeration. People that do not share your point of view are no necessarily mean.
The Prompt: Describe an atheists POV regarding Christianity.
It astounds me that so many people still believe in this Christianity garbage. There's not a shred of proof. It's merely, legend, folklore. I mean, how can so many people discount the scientific facts of evolution. You can't argue against them. It just baffles me that they can believe in a God, when so many awful things happen in the world. If He really loves us, loved ones wouldn't get brutally murdered or such catastrophes as the Oklahoma tornado would not exist. You gotta have a ton of faith, or be just gullible, to believe that one God actually created all this stuff in days!! It took millions of years for all this to happen. Christians are just too embarrassed to admit that they are descended from apes. They should be proud to know that they have come so far.
And don't get me started on how pesky Christians can be when it comes to politics. They are hindering America from moving forward. I mean, this is the 21st century. America should have embraced gay marriage a long time ago. What happened to equal rights? Christians just have to drag their religion into everything. Haven't they heard of "separation of church and state?" They're just irritating.
Note: I don't believe a word I just typed.
The Prompt: Describe an atheists POV regarding Christianity.
It astounds me that so many people still believe in this Christianity garbage. There's not a shred of proof. It's merely, legend, folklore. I mean, how can so many people discount the scientific facts of evolution. You can't argue against them. It just baffles me that they can believe in a God, when so many awful things happen in the world. If He really loves us, loved ones wouldn't get brutally murdered or such catastrophes as the Oklahoma tornado would not exist. You gotta have a ton of faith, or be just gullible, to believe that one God actually created all this stuff in days!! It took millions of years for all this to happen. Christians are just too embarrassed to admit that they are descended from apes. They should be proud to know that they have come so far.
And don't get me started on how pesky Christians can be when it comes to politics. They are hindering America from moving forward. I mean, this is the 21st century. America should have embraced gay marriage a long time ago. What happened to equal rights? Christians just have to drag their religion into everything. Haven't they heard of "separation of church and state?" They're just irritating.
Note: I don't believe a word I just typed.
Day 127: Everyone is Special
Should be Day 163. An idea I had after reading this, “God took delight in what He
created.”
Once, a little girl who liked to help her mother water the flowers on the living room windowsill received a packet of seeds for her birthday. She was so excited to have her own plants to tend for. She plopped seven tiny white seeds in a short pot. One of those seeds was smaller than all the rest. It was shriveled and had a few cracks on it. The little girl, named Sally, paid it no mind and covered dirt on them all, poured lots of water over the dirt, and waited.
Six green shoots poked their heads out of the dirt within four days. Sally would pull up a chair and stare at them every spare moment she had. Her mother commented that at least six seeds were good.
"No, Mama!" she insisted. "All of the seeds are good. Just wait for the last one."
A week later, Sally was right. The last seed did sprout, but it had a scraggly stem and much catching up to do with the other seeds. Sally gave all seven sproutlings her undivided attention as she faithfully watered them. When the time came for Sally to put the seeds in a bigger pot, her mother suggested that she get rid of the smallest stem.
"You have plenty of other bigger ones."
But Sally wanted that one in the pot too.
Months passed, and the seven plants grew tall and formed buds. They were finally ready to bloom. The seventh plant was still the smallest, but it managed to grow a tiny bud. The other plants, towering over it, seemed to mock the little one as they stood an good inch taller. The little bud drooped, looking down at his twisted, discolored body. He had tried getting enough sunlight, but it was hard sometimes. The little bud wasn't sure if he wanted to bloom. He watched as the other ones did and saw how pretty their flowers were and shrank a bit more. There was no way he could look that lovely.
Sally would not let him give up that easily. She praised the beauty of the six flowers, but she wouldn't be fully satisfied until the last one bloomed.
"Come on, Little Plant, I know you can do it!"
The little plant was unsure, but he decided to try his hardest to bloom. The next day, he cautiously cracked his bud open, and the petals spilled out. Sally exclaimed for joy when she saw it the next morning.
"This flower is the prettiest one of them all," she sighed, happily touched the velvet bright pink petals.
Once, a little girl who liked to help her mother water the flowers on the living room windowsill received a packet of seeds for her birthday. She was so excited to have her own plants to tend for. She plopped seven tiny white seeds in a short pot. One of those seeds was smaller than all the rest. It was shriveled and had a few cracks on it. The little girl, named Sally, paid it no mind and covered dirt on them all, poured lots of water over the dirt, and waited.
Six green shoots poked their heads out of the dirt within four days. Sally would pull up a chair and stare at them every spare moment she had. Her mother commented that at least six seeds were good.
"No, Mama!" she insisted. "All of the seeds are good. Just wait for the last one."
A week later, Sally was right. The last seed did sprout, but it had a scraggly stem and much catching up to do with the other seeds. Sally gave all seven sproutlings her undivided attention as she faithfully watered them. When the time came for Sally to put the seeds in a bigger pot, her mother suggested that she get rid of the smallest stem.
"You have plenty of other bigger ones."
But Sally wanted that one in the pot too.
Months passed, and the seven plants grew tall and formed buds. They were finally ready to bloom. The seventh plant was still the smallest, but it managed to grow a tiny bud. The other plants, towering over it, seemed to mock the little one as they stood an good inch taller. The little bud drooped, looking down at his twisted, discolored body. He had tried getting enough sunlight, but it was hard sometimes. The little bud wasn't sure if he wanted to bloom. He watched as the other ones did and saw how pretty their flowers were and shrank a bit more. There was no way he could look that lovely.
Sally would not let him give up that easily. She praised the beauty of the six flowers, but she wouldn't be fully satisfied until the last one bloomed.
"Come on, Little Plant, I know you can do it!"
The little plant was unsure, but he decided to try his hardest to bloom. The next day, he cautiously cracked his bud open, and the petals spilled out. Sally exclaimed for joy when she saw it the next morning.
"This flower is the prettiest one of them all," she sighed, happily touched the velvet bright pink petals.
Tuesday, June 11, 2013
Day 126: The Court Case
Should be Day 162.
I'm back to my prompts! "Write a short story using this phrase: More wicked then Samaria and Sodom."
The victim sat quivering in the witness stand. Her eyes were lowered, and the judge had to continually ask her to speak louder so all the jurors in the room could hear her. The girl fiddled with her hair as she recounted the story about how the accused had seemed so charming and generous. He had allowed her to stay in his spare bedroom when she had nowhere else to live. He gave her money until she had found a job. She had felt safe. As time went on, he became, as she put it, "more wicked than Samaria and Sodom." He wouldn't allow her to go out with any other man, much less be alone with one for more than a minute. He gave her a curfew and called her often. He lost his temper often with her, and she had been afraid he would snap and beat her one day. She lamented over not leaving his apartment when she had the chance. The night he had stolen her money and bank account information the first time, she had been so tired that she not hear him rifle through her purse. Once he regulated her pay checks, she couldn't leave.
The defense attorney, after some brief cross-examining questions, called the defendant to the stand. The victim was right; his eyes were captivating and sincere. He seemed confidant without even trying. The defense attorney asked him to give his side of the story. The defendant took a deep breath, stared straight into the eyes of the jury, the audience, the attorneys, and even the judge, and recalled how he first met the victim. She was a seventeen-year-old runaway who claimed to come from an abusive home. He pitied her and took her in. He left her alone while he was at work and welcomed her to anything in his home. After seeing that she refused to go home and wouldn't share where she had come from, he thought she should at least get a job until she saved enough money to move out. He grew worried for her safety and well-being when he saw the type of people her co-workers were and how her behavior became more irresponsible, such as arriving back at late hours and perhaps drunk. Since she was still a minor, he felt that stepping in was his only way of protecting her. He admitted to losing her temper sometimes because his patience had given way, but he solemnly said he would never hurt her.
So, is he "more wicked then Samaria and Sodom" or misunderstood?
I'm back to my prompts! "Write a short story using this phrase: More wicked then Samaria and Sodom."
The victim sat quivering in the witness stand. Her eyes were lowered, and the judge had to continually ask her to speak louder so all the jurors in the room could hear her. The girl fiddled with her hair as she recounted the story about how the accused had seemed so charming and generous. He had allowed her to stay in his spare bedroom when she had nowhere else to live. He gave her money until she had found a job. She had felt safe. As time went on, he became, as she put it, "more wicked than Samaria and Sodom." He wouldn't allow her to go out with any other man, much less be alone with one for more than a minute. He gave her a curfew and called her often. He lost his temper often with her, and she had been afraid he would snap and beat her one day. She lamented over not leaving his apartment when she had the chance. The night he had stolen her money and bank account information the first time, she had been so tired that she not hear him rifle through her purse. Once he regulated her pay checks, she couldn't leave.
The defense attorney, after some brief cross-examining questions, called the defendant to the stand. The victim was right; his eyes were captivating and sincere. He seemed confidant without even trying. The defense attorney asked him to give his side of the story. The defendant took a deep breath, stared straight into the eyes of the jury, the audience, the attorneys, and even the judge, and recalled how he first met the victim. She was a seventeen-year-old runaway who claimed to come from an abusive home. He pitied her and took her in. He left her alone while he was at work and welcomed her to anything in his home. After seeing that she refused to go home and wouldn't share where she had come from, he thought she should at least get a job until she saved enough money to move out. He grew worried for her safety and well-being when he saw the type of people her co-workers were and how her behavior became more irresponsible, such as arriving back at late hours and perhaps drunk. Since she was still a minor, he felt that stepping in was his only way of protecting her. He admitted to losing her temper sometimes because his patience had given way, but he solemnly said he would never hurt her.
So, is he "more wicked then Samaria and Sodom" or misunderstood?
Monday, June 10, 2013
Day 125: 10 Things That Reflect God
When God created the world, everything that He formed reflects His personality in some way. For example, humans are created in His image with the capacity to love. I've mentioned that the sun can be an analogy for God. Let's see what else we can thought of.
- Waves undulate evenly. They have a consistent cycle with the tides. Sometimes they can be gentle, but they posses great strength behind them. God is always reliable and can be as powerful as He is gentle.
- Dogs are known for being fiercely loyal. Take Haichi. When his owner died, he still looked for his master and waited for Him patiently. God id always there and will wait for us no matter how long we stray.
- Birds come in all shapes, sizes, colors, and songs. God's solutions to our problems come in a variety of ways.
- Dirt is underestimated. It is thought to be simple and even used as an insult ("as dumb as dirt"). Dirt provides the nutrients that plants need to live. God can be underestimated or disregarded, when He is the One we need the most.
- Rocks. Commonplace. Insignificant. Like God, they are the best things for a stable, lasting foundation.
- Oxygen makes up our air, forms water, and connects other chemical formulas together. Without it, everyone and everything dies.
- Ants work together and work diligently. That is how God wants us to act.
- Trees provide shade for us and produce fruit. God showers us in blessings too.
- The color red brings to mind warmth, heat, anger, or spirit. God is roused to anger when He sees His children being harmed by their enemies. He become passionate He sees Christians need guidance back onto the path. Think of how He reacted when the Israelites disoebyed.
- Like waves, the wind can be as strong as a tornado or as gentle as a breeze by the sea. My favorite type of wind is the persuasive kind, like when you're walking and the wind almost seems to push you along. Or when I'm standing still, the wind whispers something into the hairs dangling in front of my face. Those are moments when I feel God closest to me.
Day 124: 10 Reasons to Praise God
Should be Day 161. I thought this would be a nice idea. I encourage any readers to think about your own list of praises and either leave a comment or write it down for yourself to look at when you're feeling down. Focusing on the positive never hurt anyone, and focusing on God is even better!
- I praise God that I have a loving, supporting family.
- I praise God for never leaving me, or forgetting me, and always giving me a break in life through grace. I don't deserve it after all the times I have abandoned Him in thought or deed.
- I praise God for making bright blue skies, the warm sun, and clouds that form art in the sky.
- I praise God for providing us companionship through our pets or other animals in nature. Pets are that extra special someone whose presence comforts us and serves as our emotional support when we vent our feelings. Being around some animals in nature provide a similar effect for me. I am comforted by their habitual way of simplistic living. Even though they show no regard to me, I can appreciate them.
- I praise God for giving me awareness to the things that go on in life, and through my third-person observations, He is able to teach me things.
- I praise God for giving those who lived before me with persistence, courage, and ingenuity, so we can enjoy all the blessings and modern conveniences that this day and age has to offer. Where would we be right now without vaccines, electricity, refrigerators, cell phones, and computers?
- I praise God for blessing my body with good health and the ability to use all my limbs and all my senses. I know people who aren't as blessed.
- I praise God for writers, of all types, for without them, ideas would not be spread, timeless novels would not be available, our favorite TV shows would never be written, and we wouldn't have the Bible.
- I praise God for providing for us through crops to use for food and resources and for animals that provide nourishment (like chicken and hamburger!).
- I praise God for the life I was given and the time period I was born in. I know sometimes I wish both things would be different, or at least wonder what it would be like, but I know He gave me this specific life with these circumstances and the resources that this time period has to offer, for a specific reason.
Wednesday, June 5, 2013
Day 123: Heritage
My sister brought this to my attention the other day. Think about your ancestors. Where did they come from? When? Every U.S. citizen has relatives that have emigrated from some other country, unless of course this reader is part Native American. Some have just immigrated to the U.S. sooner than later. How long you and your family has lived in this country determines how much American history is actually "your story" and how much is simply the story of your country. I hadn't thought about it before, but the Wild West days, Western expansion, Louisiana Purchase, the Revolutionary War, and even the Pilgrims are not my stories. My history during all that time period resides with another country (or more). Whichever case is true for you, it's pretty cool to think about what parts of history you're a part of. I'm glad we live in a country that, for the most part, is receptive to immigrants and allows room for us to all amalgamate.
Day 122: The Dark
Should be Day 156. Another inspiration from a Bible verse. Today it was 2 Cor. 4:6 "For God, who commanded the light to shine out of the darkness..."
Pitch black. No, blacker than pitch. Imagine the blackest cat, the blackest cloud, the blackest pair of pants you have, and it was blacker than that. My teeth chattered, but I forced my mouth to close. Waves of numbing pain rocked my body so much that I could barely move. I couldn't possibly imagine anything being able to grow under there.
I had to find the light. I thrashed my legs and reached upward, but my surroundings did not change. I swallowed the panic that crept into my chest. I just had to keep going. I would eventually find the light, right? My eyes adjusted to the dark, and even then, I saw nothing else but more black. I kept trying to pump my arms and legs, but my bones felt like they were made of lead.
Keeping my head up, I thought that if I kept moving in that direction, I would eventually reach the light, but I wasn't sure if I was moving up or sideways anymore. It all looked the same.
Then, I noticed a stray ribbon of gold glimmer above me. I blinked hard, thinking I had hallucinated it. A few seconds later, another band of light streaked down. Then another and a fourth. The light pierced the dark and caused shards of the dark to scatter upon impact. I moved faster now as the light became more focused. Almost there. Just a little farther. I could taste the light already. Closer. Closer.
I'm sure if you were there, you would have heard the tremendous sound that came when I emerged from the icy lake. The burst of light that showered on me was enough to send shivers down my spine. No darkness could be seen anywhere. I coughed and gasped and breathed sporadically, but I was smiling more than I ever had in my life. Never was I so happy to be in the light.
Pitch black. No, blacker than pitch. Imagine the blackest cat, the blackest cloud, the blackest pair of pants you have, and it was blacker than that. My teeth chattered, but I forced my mouth to close. Waves of numbing pain rocked my body so much that I could barely move. I couldn't possibly imagine anything being able to grow under there.
I had to find the light. I thrashed my legs and reached upward, but my surroundings did not change. I swallowed the panic that crept into my chest. I just had to keep going. I would eventually find the light, right? My eyes adjusted to the dark, and even then, I saw nothing else but more black. I kept trying to pump my arms and legs, but my bones felt like they were made of lead.
Keeping my head up, I thought that if I kept moving in that direction, I would eventually reach the light, but I wasn't sure if I was moving up or sideways anymore. It all looked the same.
Then, I noticed a stray ribbon of gold glimmer above me. I blinked hard, thinking I had hallucinated it. A few seconds later, another band of light streaked down. Then another and a fourth. The light pierced the dark and caused shards of the dark to scatter upon impact. I moved faster now as the light became more focused. Almost there. Just a little farther. I could taste the light already. Closer. Closer.
I'm sure if you were there, you would have heard the tremendous sound that came when I emerged from the icy lake. The burst of light that showered on me was enough to send shivers down my spine. No darkness could be seen anywhere. I coughed and gasped and breathed sporadically, but I was smiling more than I ever had in my life. Never was I so happy to be in the light.
Tuesday, June 4, 2013
Day 121: Getting the Mail
I need practice with writing one-scene stories, ones that embellish a seemingly insignificant moment.
Tommy ran to the closet door and stretched on his toes as high as he could. His fingers brushed against the metal keys. He jumped up a couple of times, trying to knock the keys down from the hook. He huffed as he landed on the floor after the third time, the keys clutched tightly in his grubby palm. He ran to the door and put his sneakers on. He was too impatient to tie bunny ears today, so he shoved the laces inside the sides of his shoes and ran outside. His feet pounded against the gravel and kicked up tiny pebbles as he ran to the set of mail boxes at the end of the sidewalk. Once Tommy arrived at the mailbox, he examined the endless sets of numbers until he found the one that stuck out to him. He eagerly stuck the key into the keyhole and turned it. His eyes glowed with delight. A yellow package was nestled amongst a bed of letters. Sure enough, the package had his name on it. Quickly grabbing the rest of the letters, he ran back inside, with his package held tight to his chest. His heart thumped in beat with his shoes. Tossing the letters aside on the kitchen table, Tommy ripped open the tab that was on the back of the envelope and stuck his hand inside. The invoice tumbled to the ground as Tommy revealed the item his heart had yearned to hold for eleven entire days now. The plastic on the action figure gleamed in the sunlight from the window next to him. Now his set would be complete. Tommy scurried right to his toy room, where he could put his new toy where it belonged.
Tommy ran to the closet door and stretched on his toes as high as he could. His fingers brushed against the metal keys. He jumped up a couple of times, trying to knock the keys down from the hook. He huffed as he landed on the floor after the third time, the keys clutched tightly in his grubby palm. He ran to the door and put his sneakers on. He was too impatient to tie bunny ears today, so he shoved the laces inside the sides of his shoes and ran outside. His feet pounded against the gravel and kicked up tiny pebbles as he ran to the set of mail boxes at the end of the sidewalk. Once Tommy arrived at the mailbox, he examined the endless sets of numbers until he found the one that stuck out to him. He eagerly stuck the key into the keyhole and turned it. His eyes glowed with delight. A yellow package was nestled amongst a bed of letters. Sure enough, the package had his name on it. Quickly grabbing the rest of the letters, he ran back inside, with his package held tight to his chest. His heart thumped in beat with his shoes. Tossing the letters aside on the kitchen table, Tommy ripped open the tab that was on the back of the envelope and stuck his hand inside. The invoice tumbled to the ground as Tommy revealed the item his heart had yearned to hold for eleven entire days now. The plastic on the action figure gleamed in the sunlight from the window next to him. Now his set would be complete. Tommy scurried right to his toy room, where he could put his new toy where it belonged.
Day 120: Does Accepting Christianity Mean Rejecting Tradition?
This question came to me during school. We were learning about how certain African stories seem to depict Christianity as being bad because it forced them to reject their "old ways." Africans or historians didn't seem to think that you could live with both worlds. Well, why couldn't you? Sure, Christianity requires you to reject an old gods you used to worship or any acts that were associated with them because you have a new God now, the only one. That doesn't mean though that you are forced to conform to the "white man" ways of speaking proper English, getting a white education, and acting "civilized." Christianity wasn't a form of white man's control or imperialism on weaker countries.
This type of argument can go in line with Indian/Native American culture or Hawaiian culture (a big controversy to some natives). I am not an expert historian, and perhaps some people might have used Christianity for evil gains, but I don't believe genuine missionaries caused any harm to the culture. Sure some atheist practices were done away with, but I don't see why they still couldn't maintain their old culture by making their own clothes, enjoying Indian dances (The motive could be changed from honoring the sun god to praising God for the sun), or respecting customs of honoring the family. I think some people just don't understand or make too much of a deal out of it.
This type of argument can go in line with Indian/Native American culture or Hawaiian culture (a big controversy to some natives). I am not an expert historian, and perhaps some people might have used Christianity for evil gains, but I don't believe genuine missionaries caused any harm to the culture. Sure some atheist practices were done away with, but I don't see why they still couldn't maintain their old culture by making their own clothes, enjoying Indian dances (The motive could be changed from honoring the sun god to praising God for the sun), or respecting customs of honoring the family. I think some people just don't understand or make too much of a deal out of it.
Day 119: That Final Day
Should be Day 155. I was read this verse when I was inspired to write a little something about that moment when someone passes from one world to the next.
2 Corinthians 3:18 "But we all, with unveiled face, beholding as in a mirror the glory of the Lord, are being transformed into the same image from glory to glory, just as by the Spirit of the Lord."
She stared at her face in the reflection of the soldier's armor. It was old from age, wrinkled from worry, dirty from the squalor that she lived in, scarred from the case of measles that she had gotten when she was eight, and most importantly, tired. Tired of life, tired of all the pain she had suffered, and tired from all the cruelty in this world. She had run out of resistance to continue fighting. She could feel the blood continuing to ooze from the bullet holes in her chest and stomach but she didn't care anymore. Breathing was growing more difficult with each breath. Her temples buzzed, and her vision grew blurry. The screams from her neighbors as their shacks continued getting attacked by the enemy soldiers faded from her ears. All that was in focus was her face gleaming in the blue silver mirror of the breastplate.
Then she noticed her reflection started morphing. Her graying hair became raven black again. Her face grew smooth and blemish-free. Her eyes had a certain twinkle in them, and a glow descended on her entire complexion. She couldn't figure out where it had come from, or why she was so happy. She touched her face as she leaned closer into the mirror, that was now an actual oval mirror in a gold frame. She felt no pain as she leaned forward and touched her youthful cheeks. The reflection was so sharp that it looked like her reflection could come out and touch her. As she continued staring, she noticed another figure beyond her reflection that was walking towards her. It was a Jewish man with a kind face dressed in a white robe. His arms were outstretched, and He was calling her name. He came closer and closer until she finally only saw Him in the mirror. She responded by reaching out to touch His hand. Her hand went right through the mirror and touched His. Still He beckoned. As if in a trance, she walked straight through the mirror and sauntered next to Him as they walked up a winding staircase. She never looked back, only forward at the gleaming city.
2 Corinthians 3:18 "But we all, with unveiled face, beholding as in a mirror the glory of the Lord, are being transformed into the same image from glory to glory, just as by the Spirit of the Lord."
She stared at her face in the reflection of the soldier's armor. It was old from age, wrinkled from worry, dirty from the squalor that she lived in, scarred from the case of measles that she had gotten when she was eight, and most importantly, tired. Tired of life, tired of all the pain she had suffered, and tired from all the cruelty in this world. She had run out of resistance to continue fighting. She could feel the blood continuing to ooze from the bullet holes in her chest and stomach but she didn't care anymore. Breathing was growing more difficult with each breath. Her temples buzzed, and her vision grew blurry. The screams from her neighbors as their shacks continued getting attacked by the enemy soldiers faded from her ears. All that was in focus was her face gleaming in the blue silver mirror of the breastplate.
Then she noticed her reflection started morphing. Her graying hair became raven black again. Her face grew smooth and blemish-free. Her eyes had a certain twinkle in them, and a glow descended on her entire complexion. She couldn't figure out where it had come from, or why she was so happy. She touched her face as she leaned closer into the mirror, that was now an actual oval mirror in a gold frame. She felt no pain as she leaned forward and touched her youthful cheeks. The reflection was so sharp that it looked like her reflection could come out and touch her. As she continued staring, she noticed another figure beyond her reflection that was walking towards her. It was a Jewish man with a kind face dressed in a white robe. His arms were outstretched, and He was calling her name. He came closer and closer until she finally only saw Him in the mirror. She responded by reaching out to touch His hand. Her hand went right through the mirror and touched His. Still He beckoned. As if in a trance, she walked straight through the mirror and sauntered next to Him as they walked up a winding staircase. She never looked back, only forward at the gleaming city.
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