Prayer Request

Hello guys!
   I just wanted to make a quick post to ask you all to pray for something.
   There is this little girl in my church who has been recovering from cancer she had when she was about 4 years old. She is 6 now, and today they just discovered that it has come back.

   When she first had it, I didn't actually know her at the time. But now I've been her teacher in the kid's program at our church since the start of the school year. So it's a pretty hard blow for all of us, not to mention her family.
   She is going into surgery on Friday to have the cancer in her face removed. Please pray that it would go well and that they would get all of it out. Please pray that it is successful and that her recovery time is quick. Please pray that God would give her and her family strength as they prepare to face this all over again.
   Thank you guys so much, and I'll be back with another blog post soon. :)

MR

Thought Process: Testimony

Hey guys!
   So, I think that 'Thought Process Thursday' is going to become a thing. It probably won't be every week, but it might be. Who know. It all depends on if my mind decides to be all weird and deep that week or not. :P
   Last night I was listening to my usual thoughtful, deep music that I listen to (translate that to sad music), and inspiration struck. I'd been wanting to write a poem about my testimony, how I got saved, for awhile now. I've been chewing on the thought for the last few months, thinking of a good rhyming scheme, thinking of how I wanted to word things. And I finally did it last night.

   However, it isn't really a poem. No, actually, it's nothing like a poem. It's just a strange thing that vaguely explains it in my own weird way. So I thought I'd give you all a bit of clarification before I post that.
   I accepted Jesus as my Saviour on August 24th, 2014. I had originally thought that I'd gotten saved when I was younger, about 6 or 7. But God then showed me that wasn't the case.
   I was under conviction for a few months, fighting my need to be saved and my fear of a hopeless life and the even more hopeless death that was sure to follow if I didn't fill that need. I knew I needed to get saved, and I wanted to. But I was scared.
   I was scared about the fact that I hadn't actually been saved this whole time, so I was kind of in denial. Even more than that, I was scared of, well, everyone else around me.
   This is where things get a bit tricky because not even I understand what I was truly afraid of here. I wasn't really scared of people knowing I wasn't saved this whole time, despite the fact that I'd been teaching a kid's class and doing all of these church-things without having a real relationship with the Lord. I was mostly scared of them all paying attention to me.
   I'm the kind of person who likes to fade into the background. I can seem outgoing, but I'm also pretty quiet. No one really realizes how little they know about me, and I like it that way. It's nice. I'm there, but I'm not really deeply connected with anyone.
   Sounds weird, but it's true.
   I knew that if I came forward and got saved, everyone would be looking at me, talking about me, wondering what was wrong.
   And that was what I was scared of. Everyone would be focused on me and I didn't like that.
   Sounds even weirder, but it's also true.
   Hopefully, that all makes some sense and what I'm about to post now does too. If you are confused, you can always ask me about it, I'm not afraid to answer questions. :)
   So, here's the thing...

Testimony

Safety. Comfort. False assurance. Fake peace. Contentment in thinking I knew I was secure. 

Realization. Stabbing guilt, shattering thought. My safety crumbling around me in a thousand ragged pieces, tearing holes into my false cocoon and sending me plummeting downwards. 

Lies. Everything was a lie, all this time, and I didn't even know. All these people that thought I was safe, lied to. I should say something, I should speak, they would only forgive. He would only forgive. But I couldn't. To think I could like to myself for this long, that I believed it. And the people. Everyone would know, everyone would look at me, everyone would talk about me. This scared me more than the abyss I was plunging down.

Darkness. Clawing, cloaking darkness tearing me apart, pulling me, pushing me ever deeper.

Guilt. What have I done, dear God, what have I done? I killed the Light. His blood stains my hands and fills my thoughts and chokes me. I don't want to live with the guilt anymore, I want to be free. But the people, the eyes, the words all hold me back. 

Fear. In an instant death could take me and my decision would be made. I don't want to die in the darkness and be thrown to something far worse. But I can't cry for help. I can't admit my fear, can't admit my struggle. 

Would it be better to die?

No, death would only bring the deeper darkness, darkness with no hope. I need to look up, stop being stupid, stop fighting freedom. But the people scare me, and I stay silent. 

And I fall.

And fall.

The darkness doesn't end. It pulls more and more from me, willing me to give into it, to choose the deeper darkness. But I know that it's worse, and I know looking up is better.

I try it. 

I take a tiny peek at the Light. But the people see me. They see my tears, my fear, they're worried. I don't like them looking at me, their concern scares me more. I'm fine, I'm fine. 

I look back into the abyss.

Better. It's better this way. Maybe I should forget that I'm falling and let the darkness take me. How could I forget, though? I know better than that. I know what happens when you forget. I don't want that.

I fear the deeper darkness, I fear the Light and I'm stuck in between, being dragged downwards by fear. 

I want nothing more than to stop existing.

Tearing. The guilt is tearing me apart into nothingness. The fear soaks into me until that's all there is. I won't want to live in fear, but I do. 

The Light. I need it, more than I fear the people. I need Him.

ENOUGH

I look up. And the people see. They see my tears, they see my fear. They see my broken, shattered soul. I hate it. I hate it almost as much as the darkness, but the darkness is still worse. 

I reach up. Blood and blackness run from my hand, staining my flesh, my clothes, my heart. My sin, His blood. 

The Light reaches down and grabs hold. 

He washes me, pulls me from the darkness and builds me a cocoon stronger than the one I had before could ever hope to be.

But I'm still afraid.

Am I still lying? Is this real? Oh, how I want to be safe, but can I be?

Is. It. Real?

Yes. This time it is real. It was made by the Light. It can never be broken. 

I am safe. 

Safe from the darkness, safe from the fear.

Safe in the Light. 

----------

 
See you soon, dear readers.

MR

Thoughts on the Use of Strong Language/"Bad Words"

'Ello, dearest readers!
   Another week done and gone. Wowzers. We're almost into October, people! Can you believe that?? I can't!!
   Dang, where did 2015 go?
   I hope you all had a good week. :) I had a pretty good one overall. :D

   So, I'm pretty sure some of you know about Blimey Cow and watch Messy Mondays. I used to watch them faithfully every week for quite awhile. As of late, I haven't been watching them, for no particular reason. Right now it's because I'VE DONE ALMOST NOTHING BUT WRITING DURING MY FREE TIME. ((Which is paying off, by the way. Only five chapters left in my book!!))
   But yeah. I'm a pretty big fan of good ol' Blimey Cow. I mean, they are pretty hilarious.
   A couple nights ago, I was wasting my precious time on the internet, and decided to watch a couple. I just clicked on one of the recent ones and watched it. And it just happened to be this one right here:

((You're gonna want to watch this if this post is going to make any sense. :P))
   It got me thinking.
   Before I start this, lemme just say... I love Blimey Cow!! I really, really do! But I differ with them a little on this issue. I do also agree with them on some points.
   For example: I agree that words are just words, and that tearing people down with them is one of the worst ways they can be used.
   However. I don't believe a Christian should swear. (Which, though Blimey Cow never came outright and said that it's okay if Christians swear, they kind of implied it. I could totally be wrong about what they were trying to say, but this is just how it sounded to me. So I'm going with it, hehheh.)
   Why? For one, the Bible specifically commands against using the Lord's name in vain. That means a few things, but one of those things is not using His name as a curse word. And a lot of the other "bad words" (that I know of anyway. I am no swearing expert. XP) are used to tear people down.
   Of course, this doesn't bother most of the people who use them, now does it?
   That we can't control. But I still believe that as Christians, we should watch our tongue and keep it from saying words or phrases that our culture has deemed as wrong. Even if they are "just words".
   So... Why?
   For one reason. The Bible commands us to be different from the world. And if we're going around saying all the words that the world is saying and sounding just as crude and foul as them, we're not very different, are we?
   Now, this isn't the only way we should stay different than the world. There are plenty of others, but I have school in the morning. I thought I'd give you all a couple of my thoughts on the matter.
   What do you guys think about this? I'd love you hear your opinions. :) And sorry for the super short post.
   Until next week!!


   MR

From the Ashes

Hey there dear readers!
   How has your week been? Wonderful, I hope. :) I've had a good week, I really have. Last week in the most pathetic blog post of the century, I showed you what I was entering in our county fair. And this last Saturday, we went to said fair and I found out how my entries did.
   They actually did good!!! Meaning, they both got first place in their respective divisions! Which was something I wasn't expecting at all. XP So yeah, that was pretty exciting!
   But that isn't the reason I'm blogging today.
   I'm going to assume that we've all heard the story of the phoenix? For those of you who haven't, or if you need a refresher, allow me to tell you a little about it.

   In Greek mythology, the phoenix was a bird with brilliant fiery-colored plumage. It lived a long life, but eventually that life came to and end. When the phoenix knew it's time on earth was coming to a close, it would make itself a nest. It would then set the nest on fire and let the flames consume it, and then finally the great bird itself.
   The story doesn't end here, though.
   The phoenix would then rise from the ashes of its old body, raised up again from the flames that killed it, alive and well and new. 
   So, this blog post is about my love of the phoenix?
   Not really.
   Though I do love the phoenix and most other mythical creatures, that's only the first part of this post. There's actually a parallel I'd like to draw between this mythical bird and the human being. You in particular, maybe.
   Bet you didn't see that one coming. Or maybe you did...
   Anyway.
   If you don't mind, I'd like to tell you another little story. Use your imagination for a moment. Pretend that you are no longer a human, but are now a great, fiery phoenix. You've lived for over a thousand years. You've experienced so many things, things you regret, things you want to live again. Sometimes it seems like hardly any time has passed, sometimes you can feel the weight of your years bearing down on you.
   ("Wait, did phoenixes have actual thoughts like this?"
   I don't know. I'm drawing a parallel, remember? And you're supposed to be using your imagination.)
   Either way, you know your end is near. You've lived a long, full life. And you know that you will just rise up again, but you're still afraid. What is this new life going to be like? Will it hurt when I pass through the fire?
   So many questions, not enough answers.
   You continue to put it off. Every night, when you nestle down in your nest and tuck your head under one massive wing, your mind is plagued by these fears. If you don't give in soon, you might not have another chance. If you wait until tomorrow, it might be too late.
   ("So the phoenix only had a certain amount of time to, er burn itself before it died forever?"
   I have no idea! Remember, parallels? Imagination? Do those words ring a bell?)
   But the unknown is a scary thing. Horrifying, in fact. So you don't do it, and you don't do it. You push it aside and you put it off, until you can't anymore. Your body aches with age. You can hardly lift your great wings and take to the sky, you can hardly move. There's no more putting it off. It's now or never.
   You make your nest. A thick, cocoon-like nest made of sticks and bark and dried grass. Anything that will burn. You fold up your great wings and slowly squeeze your way into its dark depths as the sun sets in the west. Heart racing, you watch the sun in its descent. You watch as its last beams stretch across the sky, and you wonder if you'll ever see it again.
   Is new life really worth the risks?
   Yes, it is. You close your eyes. You clap your red and purple wings together, creating a sound that echoes all around like a clap of thunder. Fire leaps up from the bottom of the nest. It consumes it ravenously, eating away at the wood like paper. It starts biting at your feathers, and you draw back, suddenly afraid. It's going to hurt! You don't want it to hurt, you don't want to give up your beautiful plumage. What if it doesn't come back the same?
   Do you honestly care anymore, though? Your ancient body can hardly move. You're so weak and tired. You want to stop fighting this and let yourself be born again.
   So you do. You embrace the flames and let them cover you whole, let them burn away your old life, your old body. Your fear is gone and you look into the face of death with courage and relief and... Peace.
   Then it's over.
   The old body is gone. The flames are dead, reduced to a pile of ashes. But you have become something greater. Something more than you were.
   You spread your wings out to their furthest extent. Your proud head shoots up from the ground and leads your new body upwards into the night sky, leaving a trail of fire in your wake.
 
   Now, let's stop pretending your a phoenix. Just go ahead and go back to being a human.
   ("But being a phoenix was fun!"
   I know it was, but it is time to move on with the story now.)
   Are you feeling up for one last story, one last parallel?
   Now there's you. For so, so long you've fought it. You've fought the guilt and conviction with every fiber of your being
   I'm fine, you say through another church service. I'm fine, I'm good. I'm not a bad person. This is what you tell yourself after pushing away that utterly lost feeling that rises up in your soul day after day.
   But your conscience tells you otherwise.
  You can think of all the sins you've committed. Every lie you've told, every time you snapped at your parents, every time you've spoken to someone out of turn. They're all burning at your mind and driving you mad. When you try to sleep, it's there. It's telling you you're hopelessly lost and that every day you put this off is another day closer to an eternity of burning, an eternity without God.
   But I can't! You argue. What will my friends say? What will my family think?! My life is going to change forever if I do this. I'm not ready yet.
   So you put it off. Every day the weight grows heavier and heavier, and the fear grows stronger, but so does your desire for peace. You're being pulled in a million directions until you feel like you're being torn apart. You're faced with the harsh reality that the rest of your life is going to be like this if you keep fighting. And one day, that conviction will be gone and you will never have another chance. That scares you more than anything. But the thought of change scares you too. It's a continuous cycle, an endless circle, going around and around and around.
    Until one day you're done. You are done fighting, done putting this off. You don't care what everyone will say or think. You don't care anymore. All you know is that if you have to go one more second with this fear and guilt, you are going to lose your mind. You're so tired and weak. You want to stop fighting and be born again.
   So you do. Maybe you fall on your knees, maybe you sit at your counter, maybe you kneel at a church alter. Maybe you cry, maybe you're emotionless. It doesn't matter. All that matters is you open your heart to God. You confess your sins, you show Him the darkest parts of your life that you would never let anyone else see, but you know He needs to see it. You tell you Him what you've done, and you tell Him you know what His Son did. He died for you, for every single sin you've ever done, and he did it willingly, and you know He is alive. You can feel your sin nature struggling against it, but you don't care. You push against the flames and let it all burn away You confess and believe.
   Then it's over.
   All of the fighting. All of the fear. It's gone. You feel so relieved and complete and... at peace.
   God has taken away your old life and burnt it. You are a new creature, something much more than you were.
    You are new and more awake than you've felt in a long time. More alive than you've ever been before.
    But you're not supposed to stay the same. You're not supposed to go back to those ashes and live in them and long for that old life you had. No! Don't forget the guilt, don't forget the tears. Rise up from the ashes of your old life and fly on the wings God has given you. Through his strength, rise up and live for him. Stop wallowing and be the magnificent human He has always wanted you to be.
   You were made to be so much more than you are. Now go and be that person.

   And those are the parallels I thought of. I hope this touched you in some way and that it wasn't too horribly long.... *Stares upward at enormous post looming above*. Wow.
   Have a wonderful week, little phoenixes!! Until next time!

MR
 

 

Meshed Together

Hello readers!
   I hope you're having a great Memorial day. I write these posts at night so I'm not sure what the weather is going to be like tomorrow (AKA Memorial day), but I think it's supposed to be beautiful! We did have a little storm tonight. It was mostly just lightning, which I always love to see. I have this crazy love of thunder and lightning storms and rain and stuff like that....

   I am again going to fail to make a blog post in theme with today's holiday. Maybe I'll get around to something like that at a later date. But I've wanted to do this post for awhile now, and I felt like today was a good day to do it.
   Awhile ago, I made a little post about some things that have happened in my life during the year of 2014. In that post, I mentioned that my grandma had died. My great-grandma Beverly Brown to be precise. She went home to her Savior the day before Mother's Day of 2014. And I honestly cannot even tell you how much I love my Grandma.
   She was one of the sweetest ladies I have ever known. There were all of these little things about her that I loved. A long time ago, my younger brother used to mess with the flappy skin on her arm, and she would always give him a pinch because of it. And she just had this Grandma smell to her! You'd bend down to give her a hug and just be overwhelmed with it in the best way, and she'd be crying and saying "oh, oh," in this special way of hers because she hadn't seen us in years. She always gave me the cutest little Avon things too. I have this one angel necklace from her that I wore one year when I watched the Kentucky Derby online, and I actually wore it to her memorial service as well. She had her down days, but my dad could get her to laugh. Her laugh was this sweet little old lady laugh that just made you smile and want to reach across the phone and give her a hug. And my grandma was so forgiving and loving to everyone. To my dad, to her daughters, my grandpa... Everyone!
   My grandma had been sick for awhile, and we knew that she didn't have much longer. And early one Saturday morning (or early to me, at least), the Saturday before Mother's Day, my dad came into my room and told me that Grandma Bev had died. I knew it was coming, but I was still heartbroken. I cried quietly for a little while and I decided I wasn't ready to get up yet. So I went back to sleep. Eventually I did get up, and we spent a lot of that day talking about Grandma and the things we remembered about her. It was a sad day, but we knew that Grandma was home in heaven with Jesus. So it was a happy day too.
   And now I have to tell about our dear friends the Hohenstreets. Our families have known each other for years, and we have been close friends for a long time. My brother has always been friends with their two boys, my mother with Mrs. Beth, and my dad with Mr. Seth, who is also the pastor of our church. I was friends with all of them.
   But when I was about ten, I wanted nothing more than to have a friend. I mean, like the kind of friend that knew all of your secrets and you knew all of hers. That kind of thing. Well, then the Hohenstreets had little Grace. Gracie is about 8 years younger than me, but I love her so, so much. She is just the sweetest little girl and she really is one of my best friends now. I have friends that are my age, but Grace came along when I really needed her.
   So, since we are such good friends with the Hohenstreets, we had told them about our Grandma. And that evening, they asked us if it would be okay if they stopped by to say hello and bring us some candy bars. Of course, we said yes.
   And the moment they walked in the door, I knew something was up. Grace kept stopping in the middle of playing with me (which is a REALLY big deal) to go upstairs and whisper something to her mom. My brain was frantically scrambling with what could be going on, and I did come up with a few guesses.
   Right as they were getting ready to leave, they finally admitted that there was something going on. Mrs. Beth told Gracie to go ahead and tell us, but sweet little Grace got shy. So my brother offered up the guess that Pretty, Grace's cat, was pregnant. This was relatively funny, but it was even more so when the real answer was revealed.
   Mrs. Beth was, in fact, pregnant.
   And I am still struck by this. On the day my Grandma died, our best friends were going to have another baby. I mean, what?!? This just doesn't seem right. Things like that are supposed to come one at a time, in order. Well no, actually, they're not.
   This whole thing served to remind me that life is a bittersweet tangled mess of a  journey. Every day you experience pain, every day you experience joy. Maybe not on the same level as what happened to me, but you still do. Your whole life is like that. The ups and downs and the happies and sads are all meshed and woven together. It may seem crazy as its happening, but you suddenly look up and see this big, beautiful tapestry. And it wouldn't be as beautiful if it was all just pink and yellow and red, would it? Life needs some blues and purples to help even everything out and to highlight the brighter colors. Without that, what would your tapestry look like?
   You just have to keep holding on and trust that if God can make a plan to save the entire world, then he can take care of your life and that he has a reason for those crazy days where it seems like there's too much of everything for you to handle.
   As a closing note, I wanted to share this song with all of you. It's called "Emphasis" by Sleeping at Last. It has swiftly become one of my favorites, and I hope it touches all of you. :)





Have a wonderful week readers!

MR

I'm Co-Writing My Novel!!

Yes, you read that right. I am co-writing my novel!!! Pretty crazy, huh??

   My co-writer is someone truly amazing, so amazing I could never put it into words. He's always there to give me help with my plot, character development, theme. And anything else I need too, in writing and in everyday life! Whenever I'm stuck I go to him for help and he always has an answer for me. If I'm discouraged with my writing (which I often am) he's always there to encourage and uplift me. In short, he is simply the greatest co-writer I could ever have the privilege of working with. But the best part is that you can co-write with him too. Right now, as a matter of fact!
   In case you haven't already guessed, I'm going to tell you who he is. This co-writer of mine is God! Without him I honestly don't know if I'd even be able to write. Whenever I ask, he's always right there to help me out with what to say and how to say it. He's always ready to unravel my tangled plot and make it into something beautiful that only he could do. Because trust me, without him this novel would be a complete mess. It really kind of is, but it would be even more so if I didn't have him.
   Most importantly though, he gives me the passion I need to write. I have a lot of passion and heart for my novel that God has given me. Granted, most of the time I have a difficult time getting that on paper, but it's still there. Without passion, without a burning desire for your story to touch others lives, then it's just going to be a bunch of words that people will forget. If your story's good, then people might remember it for awhile but is it going to make them want to change? For most Christians who are writing, this is your ultimate goal. And without God giving you that passion that isn't going to happen.
   Keeping God involved in your story will help fix a lack of passion. How do you do that? Talk to him about it. Ask him to help you when you need it (and I know you need it a lot. I certainly do). Read your Bible. Go to church. Some of these things might not seem related but they are. Things my pastor says during his sermon have often inspired me in some aspect of my writing, from character development to new story inspiration. Reading my Bible helps me to fuel my passion for this story and often gives me ideas for my characters, as odd as that probably sounds. Please, don't go to church and read your Bible just to help you with your writing. Do those things to help you grow closer to Jesus. But while you're doing them, keep your heart and mind open to what God may give you for your writing. He'll give you something if you ask him for it!
   Thanks for reading again this week! If I can get my act together, I might be posting a Big Hero 6 fanfiction next week (anybody else absolutely in love with that movie???). If I don't have it finished, who knows! I could post about anything. XP
   Have a wonderful week, and keep writing!
   MR    

A Tale That is Told

   Happy New Year!!
   Well, not that the year is so new anymore. It's a few weeks old now, and we've all started to get back into our regular routine of life. But nonetheless, I wanted to share a couple of verses with you all that will (hopefully) help you out a little this year. :)
   I would encourage you to read this whole Psalm, but I'm just going to show you these verses:

    "For all our days are passed away in thy wrath: we spend our years as a tale that is told.

 The days of our years are threescore years and ten; and if by reason of strength they be fourscore years, yet is their strength labour and sorrow; for it is soon cut off, and we fly away 

   Who knoweth the power of thine anger? even according to thy fear, so is thy wrath. 

   So teach us to number our days, that we may apply our hearts unto wisdom."

        - Psalm 90:9-12

    Just think about those verses for a minute and what they're saying. First thing they're telling us, is that life is short. We are only given a few years to live this life before "it is soon cut off, and we fly away." 

The next thing these verses tell us is to number our days, which goes hand in hand with the previous verse. We need to remember that life is short. I forget how short life is very, very often. When I forget, I flippantly misuse the days given me and use my time up on nothing. When I do this, I am wasting precious time. And I don't even mean wasting time on things like the Internet, or TV, though things like that do apply. I waste a lot of time by misusing it, like I said earlier. Misusing it usually means hiding out it my room because I don't want to talk to anyone. Or not taking up an opportunity to help or encourage someone. Or sulking over something silly. Doing this makes me miss out on valuable time with my family, miss out on a chance to bless someone else and myself, and miss out on time that could be applied to something far greater. Remember how precious time is, and don't waste it. 

   'So, what do I do instead of wasting my time?' This next part of the verse gives the answer to that question. "... that we may apply our heart unto wisdom." Instead of wasting time, use it on something worthwhile; finding and learning about wisdom. And the place to find the wisdom that you need is in your Bible. You can literally open up your Bible to any page, and get something from it. Even if you have to dig really deep, there is something there for you to find that is going to help you out, change you heart, change your life. Whatever you need, God will give to you if you ask. Another thing you can do that will really help you find wisdom, is going to church. By "the foolishness of preaching" God will speak to you if you let him. Ask God before you go to open your heart and mind to His Word, and be ready to get something from it! 

   Finally, let's go back to verse nine. "We live our lives as a tale that is told." Our lives are like a story. This story can be beautiful and joyous. It can be dark and wretched. It can be meaningful. It can be worthless. Remember that your life is telling a tale, and what it will about and how it will end is up to you. Apply your heart to wisdom, and seek God in all you do, and He will help you to live a story worth telling. 

     Have a meaningful year, fellow Stories. :)

           MR

The Very Best Thing

Hello all!
  I just wanted to write a quick note to inform you all that I am still alive. Alive and well, as a matter of fact! Mostly getting Christmas projects ready to go for my friends and family members. But also doing some writing! It has been along time since I've done any such thing, I am ashamed to say.
   But I also wanted to post this because I've gotten to thinking about this past year. A lot has happened. A took care of this big, fuzzy white German Shepherd for about nine months and fell in love with her. I started teaching piano lessons. I lost my Grandma. I started taking horse lessons, which is something I've wanted to do my entire life. Literally. To sum it all up, I've had a lot of life impacting things happen to me in the last year. It might not sound like too much, but these things have affected me. They've helped me to mature, to grow to experience life a little more.  And as I look back on it all, I can't help but see that God has a plan for me. And already he's starting to put it into action. Most of the time, I don't realize it. I get so caught up in the monotony of everyday life. But everything that's happening, even the little things, are shaping me into the person God wants me to be. And I don't want to forget that. I want to make the right choices so I can be that person. Don't you?
   So basically, I just wanted to remind you that God really does have a plan for you. And even if it's not having you single-handedly save the world from terrorists, or bring the gospel to the deepest darkest parts of Africa, it's still going to be something great. I find myself wanting to do something more than what I'm doing right now. I always read books about these characters who save the world, or impact it forever. And I want to do that. I want to do something great. But what God is having you do now is great. Even if it is just something seemingly simple. Like teaching the little kids in class. Or helping out in the kitchens. Or sticking a track in a coat pocket at Wal-Mart. The greatest thing that you could possibly ever do, is exactly what God wants you to do, with a trusting, willing heart. That even if it's just something "ordinary", you know it's what God has for you, and you know it's the very best thing that you could do. So, just trust God. He really does have a plan.
    Have a good evening, my dear readers!
               MR

Don't Be a Demas!!!

  Hello all!! I'm back again! This post shouldn't be too long, but I really wanted to share this thing I found!
First of all, hello again! I haven't blogged in a long time, and it's for the same old reasons (laziness and lack of inspiration), so we won't go there. But I've been doing pretty good! I crochet, if you didn't know that, and we have ANOTHER bunch of babies blooming up in our church, and I'm also selling a bunch of these Anna and Elsa dolls, so my life has basically been a long almost non stop time of crochet! That sentence wasn't quite right, but I think it helps to illustrate the point a bit more. :) But anyway, let's get to the point of this post, shall we?

   I'm in the midst of re-reading through my Bible, and at the moment I am on 2 Timothy. I literally JUST FINISHED chapter four of said book, and I found a verse there that really caught me eye. Paul says in the first part of 2 Timothy 4:10,

"For Demas hath forsaken me, having loved this present world, and is departed unto Thessalonica."

  Did you catch that? Demas, a man that was with Paul during this time in his life, forsook what he was doing, and pretty much turned his back on Jesus Christ and God, the Creator of everything, for the temporal, worthless things of this world. I don't know what exactly these things were, but compared to God and what he was doing, they are absolutely nothing, whatever they are! 
   I know that this definitely applies to my life, and I'm pretty sure it applies to everyone's in some way. We reject Jesus and the things he has planned for us everyday to follow after the empty promises the world feeds us. Whether it be our dreams, or the things we enjoy, or some kind of fulfillment we're seeking, we do it all of the time. And guess what? It NEVER WORKS!!! In the end, we usually end up with our lives a tangled mess of mistakes, our hearts shattered to pieces, and left all alone with no one to turn to. Now this doesn't always happen, but when we choose the things of the world, something along these lines does occur.  At the very least, we break our Saviour's heart, and it's a good long while later before our relationship with Him is back to what it was. 
   Now I want you to take a look at the first part of the very next verse, 2 Timothy 4:11:

"Only Luke is with me."

   Demas wasn't the only one to leave Paul. If you look back in verse ten, it says that a man named Crescens and Titus left Paul too. Though it sounds like they left Paul on good terms, Luke was still the only one to remain with Paul during his time of need. We should be faithful like this! To our friends, our relatives, our church family. Don't give up on people, even if they irritate you, or if they seem hopeless, or whatever be the case! Luke stood by Paul through thick and thin, and we should do the same for the people we love. But more importantly, remain steadfast in your faith. Don't leave God for the things of this world! He stays faithful to you, and we should do the same! I don't know if you understand this, but Jesus Christ the Son of God, left Heaven, to come down to our sin filled earth, and gave his precious life for you! Jesus Christ died for YOU,  and we leave him behind for some whim or fancy. Remain faithful! Never lose hope! Jesus is always with you, even when it's tough. Don't be a Demas. Be a Luke! 

   Thank you to whoever reads this, and I pray it encourages you in some way! Goodnight all!

                                  MR

Forgiveness In BIG THINGS and little things

 

Oh my! Guess who didn't blog when she said she would??? Yeah, that's right. Me. I had valid excuses for the first few weeks, like writing a short story for a competition, then strep throat, then the flu. But after that, I just kept procrastinating. So, here I am, asking you to forgive me again. :P
   Well, I thought I'd blog about something I read in my Bible yesterday. I just started going through Matthew a few days ago, and wow! I'm already convicted over so many things, but this one little passage really stuck out to me.

"38 Ye have heard that it hath been said, An eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth:

"39 But I say unto you, That ye resist not evil: but whosoever shall smite thee on thy right cheek, turn to him the other also."

   Do we really ever think about these verses? Not only should we show mercy in the big things, but in the little everyday things too. Like when a sibling is rude to you, and you could so easily give him a burn that will hurt for weeks. But if you "resist not evil", like it says here, you just turn and walk away. Or when someone is grating on your nerves, and all you want to do is snap at them and tell them to quit. But instead, you remain calm and show mercy.
   I can't help but think of Betsie Ten Boom when I think of forgiveness. My family and I recently finished The Hiding Place, and boy, can we all learn lesson on forgiveness from Betsie! If you've read the book, you know what I'm talking about. Even though the prison guards surrounding her were cruel and heartless to the prisoners and to each other, Betsie felt no hatred toward them. All through the book, we see Betsie asking Jesus to forgive these people, even as they beat fellow prisoners! And we can't even forgive the cashier at Taco Bell for being a little grumpy!
  We all forget to show mercy, in little things or big things. I know I do! So I thought I'd write this as a reminder to all of us to show mercy this week, and every week. Before you open your mouth to speak, think, "Is what I'm about to say pleasing to God? Will it help this person, or the people around me?" If not, then don't even say anything! Sometimes, that's best. :)

(( Keep your eyes open for my next post! I might even do another one tomorrow! But no promises, mind you. :P))
MR

This picture comes from: http://scriptoriumdaily.com/

Not ashamed

First off, I would like to apologize. I haven't blogged since Mother's Day. That means it's been, what, almost six weeks? If you didn't believe I was a slacker when I mentioned it before, I bet you do now, huh? But, I'm going to try to do better. In fact I'm going to try to post every Friday. We'll see how that goes... :)

Last week in my Sunday School class, we were talking about the stoning of Stephen. And (believe it or not) we got around to talking about witnessing. My Sunday School teacher asked us, "If someone was holding a gun to your head, and told you that if you didn't recant your faith in Jesus he would kill you, what would you do?" This in and of itself is a pretty hard question. But, most of us probably would say that we wouldn't recant Jesus. How could we reject our Saviour, who shed His own precious, holy, perfect blood for our sins? And even though we would die, we would fly straight to His arms. And we all answered that we wouldn't deny our faith. But then, we were faced with a much more difficult question. What if, instead of us, the gunman was threatening our sibling? Or our mother? Or our father? Or our best friend? What would we do then? None of us could answer. Tears filled many of our eyes as we thought about it. How could we sacrifice someone else's life by not recanting? But, how could we recant?
   Now, I'm not going to make you answer that question. But, did you know that other people in different countries are being forced to answer it? Their lives are being threatened because of their faith. They are presented with this question on a daily basis. Why? Because they're Christians. When they accept God's gift of salvation, they are putting their lives on the line. There are pastors, preachers, and Christians who risk the lives of themselves and their loved ones so they can share the gospel with a lost soul. But we Christians in America? We don't have to worry about that. We live in comfort. The only thing we have to fear when we share the gospel with someone else is being mocked and picked on. But that's just it. We don't like it when people make fun of us, we don't like it when people laugh at us and point at us and call us names. So, we keep quiet. We're 'Anonymous Christians', living the Christian life quietly and secretly while other Christians are enduring severe persecution for just knowing Jesus as their Saviour. And we're not sharing because we're afraid of a little ribbing. May we realize the horrible mistake we are making before it's too late to fix it.
  This week, for those of you who read this, I have a challenge. I challenge, no, Triple Dog Dare you  to witness to someone, or pass out a tract to someone this week. This goes for me to. If you do it, comment and tell me about it. :)

Have a good Father's Day weekend,

MR