Good grief, have I mentioned how much I dislike blogging? Well, I'm saying it again! I know I need to be more consistent, but ...... eww!
Anyway, enough complaining and on to other things.....
I've been working on a new writing project and am very excited about it, although I will say sometimes I think I've bitten off more than I can chew. So here's some thoughts about my storyline and if anyone out there could weigh in with an opinion, please feel free to do so!
1. "Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live..." Exodus 22:18 Did anyone know that this is a wrong translation? King James used the word witch instead of what would more accurately have been translated "poisoner". One who commits murder by poisoning.
2. Vatic - Latin word for prophet or seer. Lamia - Latin word for witch
God's gifts are given without repentance. The ability to 'see' the future can be a gift or a curse, depending on how you use it. God will enhance it, Satan with exploit it, but God will not take that gift back because they are being abused. Greatness requires responsibility on the part of the individual, and it begs the question: What have you done with what God's given you? Did you spend it, invest it or bury it? Those are really the only three options one has concerning the gifts from God. So, I ask, who is foolish, who is wise and who is in denial?
Monday, December 12, 2011
Wednesday, August 17, 2011
Ramblings Of A Searcher....Take 2 :)
The overwhelming, striving need to be perfect, feel accepted and loved hit many kids like me growing up in the 80's. For certain personality types, this was not the case, but for someone who only wanted to please, this was a big issue. I was never pushed to make good grades, but from the 7th grade through my senior year in high school, I pushed myself for those straight A’s.
I find it interesting that this next generation (I’m a Gen. Xer) is kicking against everything they’ve been told about the world. They are standing up and saying, "Hey, I’m sorry, but I can’t be perfect." Simple Plan has a song called Perfect. Look up the lyrics if you’re interested. I think the anger the Gen. Xer’s had toward their upbringing (society’s expectations may be a better way of putting that) has produced an angry next generation. Think on that for a while.....
I find it interesting that this next generation (I’m a Gen. Xer) is kicking against everything they’ve been told about the world. They are standing up and saying, "Hey, I’m sorry, but I can’t be perfect." Simple Plan has a song called Perfect. Look up the lyrics if you’re interested. I think the anger the Gen. Xer’s had toward their upbringing (society’s expectations may be a better way of putting that) has produced an angry next generation. Think on that for a while.....
Tuesday, August 16, 2011
Ramblings Of A Searcher.....Pt. 1
I've been reading some autobiography's lately. The first was A Stolen Life by Jaycee Dugard, the second was Confessions Of A Prairie Bitch by Alison Arngrim. I am now on a third, Prairie Tale by Melissa Gilbert.
This last one is proving harder to read than the first two. I think mainly because I relate and can see myself in the writings of Melissa G. Not that I grew up in a priveleged home (ie, wealth). I did not. My family was an ordinary middle class family doing the best they could with what they had. Please understand that I really do get that. My mom and dad really love(ed) me and my brother. What was so difficult was the "Don't ask, don't tell" (maybe that's not a good way to put that) policy I felt I grew up under. Don't talk about what bothers you and it will magically go away. Don't tell me anything bad, lets just focus on the good.
I had a dream after I read the first couple of chapters and had to put the book down. I realize that not only did I grow up under the "everthing must be perfect" way of thinking, but that my church life/family/pastor was much the same way.
tbc
This last one is proving harder to read than the first two. I think mainly because I relate and can see myself in the writings of Melissa G. Not that I grew up in a priveleged home (ie, wealth). I did not. My family was an ordinary middle class family doing the best they could with what they had. Please understand that I really do get that. My mom and dad really love(ed) me and my brother. What was so difficult was the "Don't ask, don't tell" (maybe that's not a good way to put that) policy I felt I grew up under. Don't talk about what bothers you and it will magically go away. Don't tell me anything bad, lets just focus on the good.
I had a dream after I read the first couple of chapters and had to put the book down. I realize that not only did I grow up under the "everthing must be perfect" way of thinking, but that my church life/family/pastor was much the same way.
tbc
Wednesday, June 29, 2011
Thought 4 Today....
I have realized that I am in the process of "morphing" (or going from glory to glory, sound familiar?). My definitions of Christianity are being reformed, re-invented, re-discovered. Someone said to me today, "I'm out of the box and I don't want back in." My reply was "I think I was shoved out of my box." Thinking about that made me realize the above statement. What I deemed acceptable, normal, or the "way things should be", has changed and I am not at all upset with the changes (like I thought I'd be). Just food for thought....Keep on thinking.....
Wednesday, June 1, 2011
Entertaining Angels "....for by this some have entertained angels without knowing it." Hebrews 13:2
This is another short story I wrote that I thought would be fun to post. I wrote it for OWFI's photo contest. Let me know what you think!
The man on the bench closed his eyes against the bright sunlight and tried to block out the grinding gears of the Greyhound buses that were in constant motion around the bus stop. He re arranged his backpack for a more comfortable position, trying, always trying, to find the peace that ever eluded him.
His mind would not cease it’s constant mantra of "You’re my father." One simple DNA test would confirm what the girl claimed. He knew he was the man in the pictures beside her, but his brain failed to make the connection. He just didn’t remember. Anything. How odd not to remember a lifetime captured on Kodak paper. The lines between his brows creased as he tried to remember. He concentrated on the girl, Maggie, with hair the color of rich caramel, and beseeching eyes that were pools of melted Hershey chocolate.
His life had been a mystery. For the last six months he had been a vagrant, a wanderer. Picking up odd jobs in whatever town he happened to be. He remembered nothing of his former life, save the car, a black 1967 Mustang. The night had been pitch black, the air like water. The rain had fallen in blinding sheets and he had awakened wrapped around a tree. He walked away from the wreckage unscathed. Except for one thing. His mind had been washed clean of any and all memory.
The girl had told him his name was Carter Wells. He had given himself the name Joe. Fear and apprehension built in his chest as he continued to ponder his situation. Why did his past frighten him? How had the girl found him? What kind of man was he? Maggie had said he had been a mechanic by trade. He had no recollection of such trade.
"Fear of the unknown can be all consuming at times." The stranger had appeared out of nowhere and stood, simply looking at the man lying on the bench.
Carter opened one eye to the tall, blonde man. He swung his legs off the bench to give room for the man who had spoken.
"That doesn’t matter." The blonde stated, waving his hand in a dismissive manner. "What matters, is that you remember."
"How do you know about that?" Carter rubbed the gray stubble on his chin that had sprung up overnight. His aviator sunglasses flopped down over his warm brown eyes. He shoved them back on top of his head, agitated. "Seriously. Are you some sort of John Edward nut?"
"Of course not." The fellow wanderer replied with just a hint of haughty superiority.
"Then how do you know I can’t remember?" He echoed.
"The girl has been praying for your safe return."
Carter looked incredulously at the stranger.
The stranger reached out, placing his hand on Carter’s shoulder. A warmth spread throughout his body, as he said "Welcome back, Carter."
The man on the bench closed his eyes against the bright sunlight and tried to block out the grinding gears of the Greyhound buses that were in constant motion around the bus stop. He re arranged his backpack for a more comfortable position, trying, always trying, to find the peace that ever eluded him.
His mind would not cease it’s constant mantra of "You’re my father." One simple DNA test would confirm what the girl claimed. He knew he was the man in the pictures beside her, but his brain failed to make the connection. He just didn’t remember. Anything. How odd not to remember a lifetime captured on Kodak paper. The lines between his brows creased as he tried to remember. He concentrated on the girl, Maggie, with hair the color of rich caramel, and beseeching eyes that were pools of melted Hershey chocolate.
His life had been a mystery. For the last six months he had been a vagrant, a wanderer. Picking up odd jobs in whatever town he happened to be. He remembered nothing of his former life, save the car, a black 1967 Mustang. The night had been pitch black, the air like water. The rain had fallen in blinding sheets and he had awakened wrapped around a tree. He walked away from the wreckage unscathed. Except for one thing. His mind had been washed clean of any and all memory.
The girl had told him his name was Carter Wells. He had given himself the name Joe. Fear and apprehension built in his chest as he continued to ponder his situation. Why did his past frighten him? How had the girl found him? What kind of man was he? Maggie had said he had been a mechanic by trade. He had no recollection of such trade.
"Fear of the unknown can be all consuming at times." The stranger had appeared out of nowhere and stood, simply looking at the man lying on the bench.
Carter opened one eye to the tall, blonde man. He swung his legs off the bench to give room for the man who had spoken.
"That doesn’t matter." The blonde stated, waving his hand in a dismissive manner. "What matters, is that you remember."
"How do you know about that?" Carter rubbed the gray stubble on his chin that had sprung up overnight. His aviator sunglasses flopped down over his warm brown eyes. He shoved them back on top of his head, agitated. "Seriously. Are you some sort of John Edward nut?"
"Of course not." The fellow wanderer replied with just a hint of haughty superiority.
"Then how do you know I can’t remember?" He echoed.
"The girl has been praying for your safe return."
Carter looked incredulously at the stranger.
The stranger reached out, placing his hand on Carter’s shoulder. A warmth spread throughout his body, as he said "Welcome back, Carter."
Tuesday, May 31, 2011
Bury Me In Black by Susy Smith
Bury Me In Black / April 6, 2011
Bury me in black,
Clothe me in the finest of linen and lace,
And let the black consume my frame,
As no other color has done the same.
Bury me in black,
Place me in the amber flame,
And let the amber consume my frame,
As no other color has done the same.
Bury me in black,
Cover me in darkness, place me in the greedy flame,
And let my spirit be free at last,
As no other colors have meant the same.
Bury me in black,
Clothe me in the finest of linen and lace,
And let the black consume my frame,
As no other color has done the same.
Bury me in black,
Place me in the amber flame,
And let the amber consume my frame,
As no other color has done the same.
Bury me in black,
Cover me in darkness, place me in the greedy flame,
And let my spirit be free at last,
As no other colors have meant the same.
Friday, May 27, 2011
Resurrected Soul Part IV
"What's going on?" He said aloud, jumping at the sound of his own voice.
"You're dead." A voice answered behind him.
Daniel wheeled around to face his father. Dead since he was a small boy, Daniel only recognized him from pictures that hung on the walls of his home as a child.
"Dad?" He questioned timidly.
"Yes." The father answered, a sadness dominating his whole being. "You must come with me."
"Where?" Fear gipped Daniel's heart at the look of complete hopelessness on his father's face.
"To a place of no escape." A tear fell silently down his father's weathered, sunburned cheek.
Suddenly, two beings appeared on each side of Daniel. They had deep set smouldering red eyes, and their bodies were black, scaly and, Daniel realized, terrifying.
"No!" Daniel screamed. "Where are you taking me?" He foolishly tried to fight the two dark angels, but they easily chained his soul to theirs and drug him below, his father trailing silently behind.
The journey was short, and Daniel was soon standing in the midst of a swarm of souls, some moaning, others screaming in pain. He took in his new surroundings, wondering where the intense heat was coming from. It was getting uncomfortably warm where he was standing, but there didn't seem to be anywhere he could go. He surveyed the large cavelike holding he was in. The walls were made of molten lava and the walls glowed a firey red. He reached out to touch the side and felt the overwhelming heat radiating from the walls in giant tidal waves. He shuddered in fear, though the beings that had brought him to this place had disappeared. Daniel looked on and discovered a mass of people in the center of their holding place, looking up. Their reactions varied. Some were tormented, others raged madly, still others sobbed, unconsolable.
Daniel's father answered his unasked question. "That is the Looking Place. There is a hole in the center of this cave where you can look and see what is going on the the world, each one sees his own home. Then, you can look past that and see The One."
"Who?" Who was The One his father just spoke of with a sense of awe in his voice. "Who is this One and exactly where am I?" Daniel asked impatiently.
"You still don't know?" His father asked incredulous. "This is Hell, boy. You only thought you experienced it above. This," his father swung his arms frenetically around him, "is inescapable. No killing yourself this time. You're here for good."
The finality of his father's words fell like a stone and crushed his soul. He looked around, abhorring what he had done to himself and the place he was in.
"What about The One you mentioned, who is He and can He help me?" Hope raised it's head, but for a second.
"Help you? You had all the help you needed above and you rejected it. The One I speak of is Jesus Christ. He is the Savior to all who accept Him. He is the way of escape from this eternal fire, but your chance is gone. Just like mine. You have to accept him above. He is the Hope for everyone above. He bore their sin and shame on a cross. He died that they might live."
A hopelessness washed over Daniel like he had never experienced before. He moaned in the sheer agony of defeat.
The sound of his moan grew louder and louder in his ears, then, his mother's voice captured his attention.
"Daniel, Daniel!" His mother's voice was faint, but sounded so very real. He felt her warm caring hands move over his face. "Oh Daniel, thank God! Hang on!" His mother frantically buzzed the nurse.
Daniel grasped his mothers hand. "Not dead?" He whispered.
His mother gave a strangled laugh as tears of joy fell down her face.
"No, thanks to a complete stranger." His mother blew her nose. "I will tell you the story when you're better."
"Thank you, Jesus." Daniel whispered. "Thank you for a second chance."
His mother looked strangely at him and he explained, "Mom, my soul has been resurrected! I've been given a second chance by The One who will never fail me."
Okay, that's it!
"You're dead." A voice answered behind him.
Daniel wheeled around to face his father. Dead since he was a small boy, Daniel only recognized him from pictures that hung on the walls of his home as a child.
"Dad?" He questioned timidly.
"Yes." The father answered, a sadness dominating his whole being. "You must come with me."
"Where?" Fear gipped Daniel's heart at the look of complete hopelessness on his father's face.
"To a place of no escape." A tear fell silently down his father's weathered, sunburned cheek.
Suddenly, two beings appeared on each side of Daniel. They had deep set smouldering red eyes, and their bodies were black, scaly and, Daniel realized, terrifying.
"No!" Daniel screamed. "Where are you taking me?" He foolishly tried to fight the two dark angels, but they easily chained his soul to theirs and drug him below, his father trailing silently behind.
The journey was short, and Daniel was soon standing in the midst of a swarm of souls, some moaning, others screaming in pain. He took in his new surroundings, wondering where the intense heat was coming from. It was getting uncomfortably warm where he was standing, but there didn't seem to be anywhere he could go. He surveyed the large cavelike holding he was in. The walls were made of molten lava and the walls glowed a firey red. He reached out to touch the side and felt the overwhelming heat radiating from the walls in giant tidal waves. He shuddered in fear, though the beings that had brought him to this place had disappeared. Daniel looked on and discovered a mass of people in the center of their holding place, looking up. Their reactions varied. Some were tormented, others raged madly, still others sobbed, unconsolable.
Daniel's father answered his unasked question. "That is the Looking Place. There is a hole in the center of this cave where you can look and see what is going on the the world, each one sees his own home. Then, you can look past that and see The One."
"Who?" Who was The One his father just spoke of with a sense of awe in his voice. "Who is this One and exactly where am I?" Daniel asked impatiently.
"You still don't know?" His father asked incredulous. "This is Hell, boy. You only thought you experienced it above. This," his father swung his arms frenetically around him, "is inescapable. No killing yourself this time. You're here for good."
The finality of his father's words fell like a stone and crushed his soul. He looked around, abhorring what he had done to himself and the place he was in.
"What about The One you mentioned, who is He and can He help me?" Hope raised it's head, but for a second.
"Help you? You had all the help you needed above and you rejected it. The One I speak of is Jesus Christ. He is the Savior to all who accept Him. He is the way of escape from this eternal fire, but your chance is gone. Just like mine. You have to accept him above. He is the Hope for everyone above. He bore their sin and shame on a cross. He died that they might live."
A hopelessness washed over Daniel like he had never experienced before. He moaned in the sheer agony of defeat.
The sound of his moan grew louder and louder in his ears, then, his mother's voice captured his attention.
"Daniel, Daniel!" His mother's voice was faint, but sounded so very real. He felt her warm caring hands move over his face. "Oh Daniel, thank God! Hang on!" His mother frantically buzzed the nurse.
Daniel grasped his mothers hand. "Not dead?" He whispered.
His mother gave a strangled laugh as tears of joy fell down her face.
"No, thanks to a complete stranger." His mother blew her nose. "I will tell you the story when you're better."
"Thank you, Jesus." Daniel whispered. "Thank you for a second chance."
His mother looked strangely at him and he explained, "Mom, my soul has been resurrected! I've been given a second chance by The One who will never fail me."
Okay, that's it!
Resurrected Soul Part III
The bus dropped him off at the familiar stop and Daniel walked the rest of the way home, silence enveloping him. He no longer had any friends to speak of. All his High School friends had moved or had families. The guys at work were okay, but for the most part Daniel spent his days alone. The sidewalk in which he now walked was empty of pedestrians. Once in a while, a car chugged by him, breaking the silence, jerking him back to reality.
He looked up. The sky was turning dark, just like his thoughts. The sun was going down in all it's glory. Brilliant shades of orange and pink lighted the horizon. There was no brilliant colors on his horizon, he thought dejectedly. The dazzeling sunset that would normally have brought him great joy seemed to be the one thing that pushed him over the edge.
He turned into the apartment building he lived in and turned his key in the deadbold lock. Daniel switched the lights on and threw his keys on the kitchen table with a thud. He picked up the mail that was scattered on the floor from the drop slot in his door. Junk mail. Why did he even bother to look at it, he thought disgustedly. Just as he was about to throw the whole mess in the trash, a letter caught his eye. The handwriting was sickeningly familiar.
Lisa had written him a letter. "Just great," he muttered aloud. "A perfect ending to a perfect day." He sat down slowly staring at the envelope wondering what in the world she was doing writing him after what happened. He tore open the letter with a vengence, renewed anger boiling over inside of him.
Daniel, I feel the need to explain a few things. You have to believe me when I say that I never meant to hurt you.
Never meant to hurt me, he raged inside. I wonder what it was she meant to do? Daniel let that thought hang as he continued to read.
I wish you had never seen what you did. That we could've gone on like we always had. You were the closest thing I ever had to someone really loving me. But, this is me. This is what I do, how I make my living. I don't want to change, not even for you. I know you will never forgive me, so I guess this is goodbye.
It was signed simply, love Lisa.
Daniel let the letter drop to the floor. A heaviness settled on his shoulders like a shroud and a sob escaped his lips. "I can't take this pain anymore. There has to be a way out, some relief from this constant weight inside my soul that seems to drown the life out of me."
In a sudden burst of inspiration, Daniel sprang from the couch and raced to the bathroom medicine cabinet.
"Where are they?" He screamed in desperation. "I know I had some sleeping pills. I have to find them!"
Daniel rummaged through the cabinet mindless of the medicine bottles and pills he was scattering on the bathroom tile.
"Here!" He shouted and dumped the whole bottle of tiny white pills in his hand. He shoved the whole lot into his mouth then in a way only a crazed man can do, ran into the kitchen for water. Daniel gulped down the water then threw the glass against the wall, watching it shatter into broken fragments. He laughed madly at the glass.
"Just like my life!" He shouted. "Broken and over." He dropped to the floor as the many sleeping pills began their deadly work.
And then.....
Daniel was standing in his kitchen. The broken glass still lay where it shattered on the floor. Bewildered, he stook looking around him. A disoriented, eerie feeling enveloped his whole being as he looked down and saw his body lying helpless, in a fetal position on the floor.
He looked up. The sky was turning dark, just like his thoughts. The sun was going down in all it's glory. Brilliant shades of orange and pink lighted the horizon. There was no brilliant colors on his horizon, he thought dejectedly. The dazzeling sunset that would normally have brought him great joy seemed to be the one thing that pushed him over the edge.
He turned into the apartment building he lived in and turned his key in the deadbold lock. Daniel switched the lights on and threw his keys on the kitchen table with a thud. He picked up the mail that was scattered on the floor from the drop slot in his door. Junk mail. Why did he even bother to look at it, he thought disgustedly. Just as he was about to throw the whole mess in the trash, a letter caught his eye. The handwriting was sickeningly familiar.
Lisa had written him a letter. "Just great," he muttered aloud. "A perfect ending to a perfect day." He sat down slowly staring at the envelope wondering what in the world she was doing writing him after what happened. He tore open the letter with a vengence, renewed anger boiling over inside of him.
Daniel, I feel the need to explain a few things. You have to believe me when I say that I never meant to hurt you.
Never meant to hurt me, he raged inside. I wonder what it was she meant to do? Daniel let that thought hang as he continued to read.
I wish you had never seen what you did. That we could've gone on like we always had. You were the closest thing I ever had to someone really loving me. But, this is me. This is what I do, how I make my living. I don't want to change, not even for you. I know you will never forgive me, so I guess this is goodbye.
It was signed simply, love Lisa.
Daniel let the letter drop to the floor. A heaviness settled on his shoulders like a shroud and a sob escaped his lips. "I can't take this pain anymore. There has to be a way out, some relief from this constant weight inside my soul that seems to drown the life out of me."
In a sudden burst of inspiration, Daniel sprang from the couch and raced to the bathroom medicine cabinet.
"Where are they?" He screamed in desperation. "I know I had some sleeping pills. I have to find them!"
Daniel rummaged through the cabinet mindless of the medicine bottles and pills he was scattering on the bathroom tile.
"Here!" He shouted and dumped the whole bottle of tiny white pills in his hand. He shoved the whole lot into his mouth then in a way only a crazed man can do, ran into the kitchen for water. Daniel gulped down the water then threw the glass against the wall, watching it shatter into broken fragments. He laughed madly at the glass.
"Just like my life!" He shouted. "Broken and over." He dropped to the floor as the many sleeping pills began their deadly work.
And then.....
Daniel was standing in his kitchen. The broken glass still lay where it shattered on the floor. Bewildered, he stook looking around him. A disoriented, eerie feeling enveloped his whole being as he looked down and saw his body lying helpless, in a fetal position on the floor.
Resurrected Soul Part II
Hosea 13:14a "I will ransom them from the power of the grave: I will redeem them from death..."
Daniel's younger days were his only source of comfort. High School had been kind to Daniel in an otherwise unkind, scathing environment. He excelled not only in sports but in acedemics as well. People were often heard saying "There goes a boy with lots of potential." or "Daniel will go far in sports." But he did not go far in sports. He ended up working in a machine shop on the west side of town. It was all worth it, he figured at the time.
Fresh out of High School, Daniel thought that he had life all figured out. He had met a girl that intrigued him and he had fallen hard. Lisa. Lisa was full of life. She was everything Daniel was not.
"Stable and boring." Those were the words she used to describe him, but she made Daniel feel alive in a way he had never experienced before. No one had ever had the effect on him that she did. Lisa ran with the fast crowd that partied alot. Daniel, thus far, had stayed away from that seedy side of life, but she eventually dragged him in, nothing really anchoring him to the straight side of life. And it was that wild abandon in her that drew him to her like a magnet.
Daniel sighed. No matter how hard he tried, his thoughts always led back to her. Her long blonde hair, blue eyes that sparkled like the sun on a crystal blue lake, and a vibrant personality that drew more than just him to her. That's where their trouble started. Guys just wouldn't leave her alone. And she seemed to feed off of their attention. A free spirit is what she called herself.
"Oh, Daniel, " she would laugh, "I can't tie myself down to just one person right now, but I will always love you."
Daniel laughed bitterly at the memory of her words. Love. A word that was used so flippantly, yet had such deep meaning.
The bus he had gotten on chugged down the now thinning street. He would soon be home. Dark and empty. Daniel hated going home now that Lisa was gone. She had moved in with him for a couple of months, but moved back out, saying she needed more space. The arrangement had cramped her lifestyle. Daniel soon after found out all about her lifestyle and it had devastated him.
(posting more later today...)
Daniel's younger days were his only source of comfort. High School had been kind to Daniel in an otherwise unkind, scathing environment. He excelled not only in sports but in acedemics as well. People were often heard saying "There goes a boy with lots of potential." or "Daniel will go far in sports." But he did not go far in sports. He ended up working in a machine shop on the west side of town. It was all worth it, he figured at the time.
Fresh out of High School, Daniel thought that he had life all figured out. He had met a girl that intrigued him and he had fallen hard. Lisa. Lisa was full of life. She was everything Daniel was not.
"Stable and boring." Those were the words she used to describe him, but she made Daniel feel alive in a way he had never experienced before. No one had ever had the effect on him that she did. Lisa ran with the fast crowd that partied alot. Daniel, thus far, had stayed away from that seedy side of life, but she eventually dragged him in, nothing really anchoring him to the straight side of life. And it was that wild abandon in her that drew him to her like a magnet.
Daniel sighed. No matter how hard he tried, his thoughts always led back to her. Her long blonde hair, blue eyes that sparkled like the sun on a crystal blue lake, and a vibrant personality that drew more than just him to her. That's where their trouble started. Guys just wouldn't leave her alone. And she seemed to feed off of their attention. A free spirit is what she called herself.
"Oh, Daniel, " she would laugh, "I can't tie myself down to just one person right now, but I will always love you."
Daniel laughed bitterly at the memory of her words. Love. A word that was used so flippantly, yet had such deep meaning.
The bus he had gotten on chugged down the now thinning street. He would soon be home. Dark and empty. Daniel hated going home now that Lisa was gone. She had moved in with him for a couple of months, but moved back out, saying she needed more space. The arrangement had cramped her lifestyle. Daniel soon after found out all about her lifestyle and it had devastated him.
(posting more later today...)
Thursday, May 26, 2011
Resurrected Soul Part I
I've really had a hard time with all this blogging nonsense. I most likely will not post my innermost thoughts and feelings on here, but I did come across a short story I wrote in 1994 called Resurrected Soul that I thought would be good to post. Hopefully people will read it and be a sounding board of sorts.... So here goes the first part. Let me know what you think.
Resurrected Soul
by Susy Smith
11/3/1994
To the one I knew who now is gone. I'm sorry.... 1 Cor. 15:55
The street was a picture of rush hour. The end of the day. People everywhere in the city were in a heated race to get home. The sidewalks were jammed with people running over each other trying to get where they needed to go.
Daniel could scarcely breathe in the midst of the swarm of bodies that seemed to carry him along as effortlessly as the ocean tide washing sea foam up to kiss the warm sand on shore. Suddenly he stopped. His heart pounding like a madman on bongo drums. People rammed into him, shoving him along. He craned his neck back. Yes, that was her. A wave of heaviness enveloped him as the painful truth once again reminded him that she was gone and he was alone.
His heart was crushed, his mind broken. The same black cloud of heaviness clung to him wherever he went. He never seemed to be able to shake it, to come out from under it's grave influence. Just when he thought it was gone, it came back to darken his day. He continued walking down the crowded street, head down. His mind kept playing the same mantra over and over....
"You are nothing. What will you ever amount to? Nobody cares about you. You idiot! This life has played a cruel joke on you. Don't you hear it's laughter? You might as well be dead. Might as well be dead. As well be dead. Be dead. Dead."
Daniel wanted to scream. To protest that he was something. But without her he was nothing. He felt dead. Tears began to fall unheeded down his cheeks. His mind wandered to his earlier years when things were better......
(I'll post more later........)
Resurrected Soul
by Susy Smith
11/3/1994
To the one I knew who now is gone. I'm sorry.... 1 Cor. 15:55
The street was a picture of rush hour. The end of the day. People everywhere in the city were in a heated race to get home. The sidewalks were jammed with people running over each other trying to get where they needed to go.
Daniel could scarcely breathe in the midst of the swarm of bodies that seemed to carry him along as effortlessly as the ocean tide washing sea foam up to kiss the warm sand on shore. Suddenly he stopped. His heart pounding like a madman on bongo drums. People rammed into him, shoving him along. He craned his neck back. Yes, that was her. A wave of heaviness enveloped him as the painful truth once again reminded him that she was gone and he was alone.
His heart was crushed, his mind broken. The same black cloud of heaviness clung to him wherever he went. He never seemed to be able to shake it, to come out from under it's grave influence. Just when he thought it was gone, it came back to darken his day. He continued walking down the crowded street, head down. His mind kept playing the same mantra over and over....
"You are nothing. What will you ever amount to? Nobody cares about you. You idiot! This life has played a cruel joke on you. Don't you hear it's laughter? You might as well be dead. Might as well be dead. As well be dead. Be dead. Dead."
Daniel wanted to scream. To protest that he was something. But without her he was nothing. He felt dead. Tears began to fall unheeded down his cheeks. His mind wandered to his earlier years when things were better......
(I'll post more later........)
Friday, April 8, 2011
Saints and Scientists
They say saints look for God and scientists look for evidence. I say when saints find God, they see the scientific evidence of His Presence. When scientists look for evidence, they see the very essence of who He is. They both end up in the same place......
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)