Brittney: What do you think about shooting stars? I think they're giant balls of fire circling the Earth.
Emily: I know that's what they look like. However, I once read that they're really tiny bits of rock burning up in the Earth's atmosphere.
Lindsay: No. They're really zombies on unicorns. When they try to enter the Earth's atmosphere, the unicorn cuts a hole with its horn. But it gets too hot, so that's why we don't see any unicorns on Earth. Cause they burn up and die. But if they ever figure out a better system, we'll be in big trouble because nothing's worse than a zombie with the power of a unicorn to help it fly through the air. Just sayin'
Emily: I have a headache.
Saturday, April 30, 2011
Sunday, April 24, 2011
Christ the Lord is Risen Today
I love Easter.
The excitement surrounding our Savior
Makes me want to giggle like a little girl.
Jesus conquered death.
He is the victor.
I love thinking about Good Friday, the sadness and dispair that I can imagine engulfing the disciples.
Then Easter comes.
Imagine being in that room.
Knowing that Jesus is more powerful than just conquering the Romans.
He conquered death.
Imagine the disciples eyes.
They're smiles going from ear to ear.
It's true!
He is RISEN!
This morning we had a sunrise service...with an amazing breakfast.
Then a perfect Sunday afternoon nap.
Tonight we had all the Americans (and a quasi-American) over for an Easter dinner.
Wonderful food.
Full stomachs.
An egg dying contest.
Communion.
Dishes.
Easter egg hunt.
Laughter.
Stories.
Songs.
'Twas lovely.
Just lovely.
The excitement surrounding our Savior
Makes me want to giggle like a little girl.
Jesus conquered death.
He is the victor.
I love thinking about Good Friday, the sadness and dispair that I can imagine engulfing the disciples.
Then Easter comes.
Imagine being in that room.
Knowing that Jesus is more powerful than just conquering the Romans.
He conquered death.
Imagine the disciples eyes.
They're smiles going from ear to ear.
It's true!
He is RISEN!
This morning we had a sunrise service...with an amazing breakfast.
Then a perfect Sunday afternoon nap.
Tonight we had all the Americans (and a quasi-American) over for an Easter dinner.
Wonderful food.
Full stomachs.
An egg dying contest.
Communion.
Dishes.
Easter egg hunt.
Laughter.
Stories.
Songs.
'Twas lovely.
Just lovely.
 |
Thursday, April 21, 2011
My Brain Started Working the Day I Finished College
Lindsay and I have been mulling over theories on developmental stages tonight.
It's one of those conversations that lots of people probably have when they're drunk and then forget what they said.
But in reality, they're long rambling conversations that build up to nothing.
We on the other hand are fully sober.
But we have had a number of cookies, and have watched Pride and Prejudice, the six hour version.
I stayed awake.
Be proud of me.
Ok, but really.
I didn't really think before the age of 22.
I did but...
something changed.
Let me break down the stages for you.
Stage number 1: Wood panel.
One of my earliest memories is studying the wood paneling in our living room.
That's it. Wood panel.
Stage number 2: My finger hurt.
A door was closed on my pinkie. My dad rushed me to the hospital.
You know its serious when a cardiologist says it's an emergency.
I thought about my finger hurting.
Stage number 3: Poor Baby Jessica.
My dad brought me home late one night. Mom was watching the news. About Baby Jessica. She fell in a well. And was stuck, like duck. They saved her. But the mom was crying. The baby was scared. The rescuers were scared and working...and I was scared and sad.
It was emotional. I empathized.
Stage number 4: It's not fair.
My brothers often went outside without shirts on. One day I decided it was a beautiful day. I took a blanket and laid it carefully in the soft grass on the left side of the driveway and removed my shirt. My brothers told my mom. My mom told me no. I threw a fit. She sent me to my room and continued my fit.
Stage number 5: For me?
I went to summer camp. There was an invitation. I went outside and prayed with a counselor. In the middle of our prayer, I got a nosebleed. It was dripping. I was amazed that Jesus would die for me.
Stage number 6: I MUST call Amanda.
Middle school brought reliance upon friends. Calling was not optional. We talked for hours...about babies and war and God and abortion and sometimes we would just sit on the phone and say nothing while we were both doing homework.
Stage number 7: Things are changing.
The last get together before I went to college was at Jeffrey Turner's house. I was driving home in my Thunderbird. It was late. And I was sobbing. Really sobbing. I was never going to see any of my friends again. My life was going to be completely different. I was half pleading that a cop wouldn't pull me over and half pleading that one would, so I could share my woes and scare the cop with my tears.
Stage number 8: Almost a real thought.
In college I had a project. I had to join a group that I did not fit in to. I thought it was a stupid project. I chose an Islamic group. I went to their Mosque for a Ramadan celebration. First was a class thing. He talked about differences in Christianity and Islam. Then the men prayed and the women ate. I ate with the women and talked. And asked questions. And thought...."Hmmmm....maybe these people are real....hmmmm...."
Stage number 9: A real thought. (a.k.a. God has a plan beyond me.)
I stood in the children's home in Namibia, listening to the 55 kids belt out a song to the Lord. All I could do was worship the Lord for what He was doing in the lives of these children, these people.
While many of these stages seem to have nothing to do with my spiritual development, they are representative of where I was emotionally and where I was in my understanding of the world and of God.
Life makes a little more sense now...thinking helps. I'd say my relationship with God makes a little more sense now, too
On the the other hand...perhaps this post proves "wood panel".
It's one of those conversations that lots of people probably have when they're drunk and then forget what they said.
But in reality, they're long rambling conversations that build up to nothing.
We on the other hand are fully sober.
But we have had a number of cookies, and have watched Pride and Prejudice, the six hour version.
I stayed awake.
Be proud of me.
Ok, but really.
I didn't really think before the age of 22.
I did but...
something changed.
Let me break down the stages for you.
Stage number 1: Wood panel.
One of my earliest memories is studying the wood paneling in our living room.
That's it. Wood panel.
Stage number 2: My finger hurt.
A door was closed on my pinkie. My dad rushed me to the hospital.
You know its serious when a cardiologist says it's an emergency.
I thought about my finger hurting.
Stage number 3: Poor Baby Jessica.
My dad brought me home late one night. Mom was watching the news. About Baby Jessica. She fell in a well. And was stuck, like duck. They saved her. But the mom was crying. The baby was scared. The rescuers were scared and working...and I was scared and sad.
It was emotional. I empathized.
Stage number 4: It's not fair.
My brothers often went outside without shirts on. One day I decided it was a beautiful day. I took a blanket and laid it carefully in the soft grass on the left side of the driveway and removed my shirt. My brothers told my mom. My mom told me no. I threw a fit. She sent me to my room and continued my fit.
Stage number 5: For me?
I went to summer camp. There was an invitation. I went outside and prayed with a counselor. In the middle of our prayer, I got a nosebleed. It was dripping. I was amazed that Jesus would die for me.
Stage number 6: I MUST call Amanda.
Middle school brought reliance upon friends. Calling was not optional. We talked for hours...about babies and war and God and abortion and sometimes we would just sit on the phone and say nothing while we were both doing homework.
Stage number 7: Things are changing.
The last get together before I went to college was at Jeffrey Turner's house. I was driving home in my Thunderbird. It was late. And I was sobbing. Really sobbing. I was never going to see any of my friends again. My life was going to be completely different. I was half pleading that a cop wouldn't pull me over and half pleading that one would, so I could share my woes and scare the cop with my tears.
Stage number 8: Almost a real thought.
In college I had a project. I had to join a group that I did not fit in to. I thought it was a stupid project. I chose an Islamic group. I went to their Mosque for a Ramadan celebration. First was a class thing. He talked about differences in Christianity and Islam. Then the men prayed and the women ate. I ate with the women and talked. And asked questions. And thought...."Hmmmm....maybe these people are real....hmmmm...."
Stage number 9: A real thought. (a.k.a. God has a plan beyond me.)
I stood in the children's home in Namibia, listening to the 55 kids belt out a song to the Lord. All I could do was worship the Lord for what He was doing in the lives of these children, these people.
While many of these stages seem to have nothing to do with my spiritual development, they are representative of where I was emotionally and where I was in my understanding of the world and of God.
Life makes a little more sense now...thinking helps. I'd say my relationship with God makes a little more sense now, too
On the the other hand...perhaps this post proves "wood panel".
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)