tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-48835340478789369282024-02-08T09:05:52.081-08:00Thoughtful RamblingsProverbial Pincushionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12433400847465080449noreply@blogger.comBlogger24125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4883534047878936928.post-11730145666294196232011-08-15T10:13:00.000-07:002011-08-15T10:13:39.862-07:00The Onyx Pocket WatchIt all started the day Leonard first saw that antique pocket watch. The small shop on Main St. never seemed like much to young Leonard, or Leo as he preferred. Today was different though. On a whim he ventured in to the small town antique shop and started browsing. It never occurred to him that there could be so many interesting nick-nacks from days gone by. He handled and examined every doodad with fascination until he was forced to stop when he saw in the glass case an antique pocket watch. It was submerged in light and the aged silver cast the lights reflection directly at Leo's eyes. Leo looked up at the lady behind the counter. He asked her if she would let him handle the beautiful watch. The aged lady looked at him for a few moments. Leo would have said that she was looking into him. He felt as though she was carefully peering into is soul. She then smiled.<br />
<br />
With her faltering voice she asked, "Are you capable of handling it, young man?"<br />
<br />
"Ma'am?"<br />
<br />
"Give me your hand."<br />
<br />
Leo hesitantly showed her his right palm. He looked up at her and he felt a sudden electric jolt pass from his hand to the rest of his body. He looked down at his hand. She had placed the watch in it. The pewter chain was dangling from his hand. Leo didn't understand; she never opened up the case or reached down to pick up the watch. It was in his hand nevertheless.<br />
<br />
"Open it," the lady suggested.<br />
<br />
Leo pressed the small tarnished button on the edge and the lid clicked open. Inside were dials for the year, month, day, hour, minute, and second. They were all intricately intertwined. The numbers were etched into what looked like some sort of black stone. The rings were all of a delicate silver that shone as bright as the day they were polished. All of the sudden the stationary hands began to click and jolt forward and startled Leo even more. He looked up at the lady and put his hand forth to give it back to her. She looked at him without lifting a finger.<br />
<br />
"I don't have much time left in this life. I don't need a watch to tell me that. No, this watch is yours now. You have many questions I am sure. You only need one. Now that you know how much time you have, what will you do with it?"<br />
<br />
Leo dared not doubt her; she had too much conviction in her eyes. He looked down at the watch.<br />
<br />
Two years.<br />
Seven months.<br />
Eighteen days.<br />
Four hours.<br />
Six minutes.<br />
Thirty-two seconds.<br />
<br />
Leo looked up to see the lady walking into the back. There was a closed sign on the counter. He didn't know what else to do, but to walk out. Hurrying to the near by park, Leo steadied himself on a bench and sat. He prayed intensely.<br />
<br />
"Father, what would you have me do?" he repeated over and over until a still small voice came.<br />
<br />
"Draw near to me and I will draw near to you."<br />
<br />
Leo smiled.<br />
<br />
Over the next two and one half years Leo did everything he could to draw near to his God. He started a bible study out of his house and from that he gained the support to open up a shelter for anyone who needed it. All sorts of people came, runaways, battered women, hiding men, and the mentally ill. Leo loved them all. No one understood how this seemingly inconsequential young man could do so much, but Leo knew. He carried the watch everywhere he went. He hardly looked at it anymore. When the clock hit one month he knew it. He didn't have to look. Leo made arrangements for the leadership to be passed on. He chose Thomas, the third person to come to show up and the first live-in volunteer. He chose Thomas because he knew he was close with God and had a heart for those who need help.<br />
<br />
Leo remembered the story of David Livingston and how he died while praying on his knees. Leo liked that idea and arranged his shift at the shelter should end two hours before the watch did. His plans were for naught though as he was the only person to show up at the shelter. He couldn't just leave. Just as he knew the clock had but a few minutes left he asked to be excused for a time and went to the prayer room in the building.<br />
<br />
"Father if know one is here when I die, who will take care of the shelter?"<br />
<br />
Leo prayed intensely for those two minutes, opened his watch and looked down just as the second hand reached the last tick. Just as the beautiful silver hands became stationary once more Leo heard a knock at the door. He waited wondering just what was happening. Wasn't is life supposed to end?<br />
The knock came once again. Leo stood up, still confused, and opened the door. Before him stood a beautiful young lady clad in pastels.<br />
<br />
"Leo?"<br />
<br />
"Yes?"<br />
<br />
"I was told you were back here, it looks like you could use a little help. Mind if I pitch in?"<br />
<br />
Leo looked in her eyes, "Absolutely... Er, of course not. Um... I mean you can help."<br />
<br />
The young lady blushed and chuckled.<br />
<br />
"My name is Melody."<br />
<br />
She extended her hand. After staring for a moment Leo realized what he was doing and extended his hand as well. As soon as they touched a familiar electric jolt passed through Leo.<br />
<br />
Melody was visibly startled.<br />
<br />
"That was some static shock!" Have you been crawling around on the carpet in there?"<br />
<br />
"Uh... no. Maybe we should get back to the main hall... We just served lunch so there are quite a few pots and pans to wash. Care to help me with those?"<br />
<br />
Melody smiled again, "Sure."Proverbial Pincushionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12433400847465080449noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4883534047878936928.post-15578882533057892752011-07-01T22:59:00.000-07:002011-07-03T21:05:31.450-07:00The Devil's Pact pt. 3Now God had taken Diamond. For the first time in his life Sammy was alone.<br />
<br />
"Okay."<br />
<br />
The man in black scrubs covered Diamond.<br />
<br />
"Thank you."<br />
<br />
The man in the black scrubs nodded and just for the briefest of moments Sammy thought he saw the hint of a smirk. He looked again only to see the same solemn face and empty eyes that he saw earlier.<br />
<br />
Walking out of the room Sammy concluded that he was slipping. He didn't care; he needed to find out what exactly happened to Diamond. Sammy called the superintendent of the school. It went to voice mail.<br />
<br />
"You've reached Diane Donald; I am not able to get to my phone right now. Please leave a message."<br />
<br />
"Mrs. Donald, this is Sammy. If you could get back to me as soon as you could I would appreciate it. I need to know what happened."<br />
<br />
Sammy knew that she would be one of the few people who would know what happened and be willing to tell him about it. Diane had been like a grandmother to Diamond.<br />
<br />
Sammy couldn't bring himself to do anything and decided that he would just have to wait until after he had spoken to Diane. He went home. Walking in the emptiness of the small house became oppressive. Three tears fell to the ground. H needed some noise. Something. Anything. Sammy went to his closet. The shoe box was right where he left it. The box was heavy.<br />
<br />
<i>You let this happen, God.</i><br />
<br />
Sammy walked over to the living room and sat by the small coffee table. As he set the box on the table memories of the contents came back; memories before Collete and Diamond. Sammy took the lid off the box. Inside was his old Sig Sauer P226 and an aging Gerber Mark II. Pulling the dagger out of the sheath he saw a little rust on the blade. The metal clinked against the glass as it was placed on the table. Sammy found his arkansas stone and retrieved a bottle of olive oil from the cabinet over the sink in the kitchen. The steady sound of stone against steel settled Sammy's mind. Slowly yet surely the rust was disappearing from the double edged tool. After giving the gerber a light coating of oil he placed it back in the sheath and back in the box. As Sammy picked up the pistol he heard a voice behind him.<br />
<br />
"Diane won't be calling you back."<br />
<br />
Sammy spun around, pointed the gun, and pulled the trigger twice. Nothing happened.<br />
<br />
"Don't you remember? You stored it unloaded."<br />
<br />
Sammy then realized that this was the same man that was in the black scrubs. This time, though, he was in a black suit. He was also wearing the same smirk that Sammy thought he had seen earlier.<br />
<br />
Sammy grasped the dagger as he said very slowly, "Who are you?"<br />
<br />
"My name is Azazel. More importantly, though, I have an offer for you.Proverbial Pincushionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12433400847465080449noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4883534047878936928.post-89688390862721269012011-06-30T09:53:00.000-07:002011-06-30T09:53:00.807-07:00The Devil's Pact pt. 2"Sir, its about your daughter, Diamond."<br />
<br />
<br />
Those words brought Sammy's world to a standstill.<br />
<br />
<br />
"Well, sir... a man came to the school looking for one of the teachers. There was an altercation and he shot the teacher as well as five students... Diamond was killed."<br />
<br />
<br />
There was a long pause. Sammy's mind went blank; he couldn't process it. Suddenly a wave of nausea swept over him.<br />
<br />
"Sir, are you still there?"<br />
<br />
<br />
"Yeah," Sammy replied weakly.<br />
<br />
<br />
"Do you think you could come down to the hospital to identify the body?"<br />
<br />
<br />
He didn't feel his stomach heave or even taste the bile; he found himself looking at his breakfast from earlier. Everyone was staring at him.<br />
<br />
<br />
"I'll be there in thirty minutes." It didn't seem real.<br />
<br />
Walking into the cold hospital was a cold welcome for Sammy. The walls were a frigid white. A nurse hurried past; her heels clacked against the floor. Sammy's boots made no sound, but his breathing did. Every breath was deep, slow, and controlled; he had reverted to his stress training. He had to focus on breathing and keep on walking.<br />
<br />
The nurse with kind eyes at the reception desk told Sammy that, "The morgue is in the base floor, room zero two zero. Can I get someone to take you down there, hun?<br />
<br />
"I'll find it."<br />
<br />
<br />
After a long walk of controlled breathing and mindless steps he did find it. A man in black scrubs met Sammy at the door to that room that was even more icy than the rest of this building of death.<br />
<br />
"Are you ready?"<br />
<br />
Sammy looked into the man's eyes and saw that they were as the rest of that god-forsaken structure, unfeeling... almost dead.<br />
<br />
Sammy merely nodded his head. Walking in he saw a short and familiar figure on a table under a white sheet. As the man in the black scrubs lifted the top of the sheet Sammy felt the bile rise up in his throat again, but this time he managed to stop himself. For a split second the face on the girl before him was not his daughter's. However, the notion that he could dictate reality simple thought force of will left almost as quickly as it came.<br />
<br />
"Sir?"<br />
<br />
"It's her... That is my daughter."<br />
<br />
The man in the black scrubs began to cover Diamond's face.<br />
<br />
"Wait!"<br />
<br />
So Sammy stood there looking at his daughter's face.<br />
<br />
Memories of Collete's death came rushing back with the force of a freight train. After an agonizing eight hours of labor the screaming ceased. Collete's eyes were bloodshot, her hair matted, and her face had developed a film of sweat. Her head fell back as the machines started beeping even louder. Alarms went off and people rushed in. The doctors were shouting and everything was chaos.<br />
<br />
Was a nurse ran in he asked, "What's going on?"<br />
<br />
She didn't say anything, she simply continued into the room.<br />
<br />
After what seemed to be an eternity of panicked nurses and doctors there was another calm. At last a doctor started walking towards Sammy. The doctor was fidgeting. <br />
<br />
"Uh... sir, your wife. She was bleeding internally and we couldn't stop it. However, your daughter is just fine.<br />
<br />
For the briefest of moments Sammy wouldn't accept it, but his mind quickly turned to God.<br />
<br />
<i>We were supposed to be parents together. They were supposed to raise their daughter together. This wasn't supposed to happen! God, how could you let this happen?</i><br />
<br />
<i> </i>Proverbial Pincushionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12433400847465080449noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4883534047878936928.post-14370316767763734742011-06-02T00:13:00.000-07:002011-06-02T00:13:10.059-07:00The Devil's Pact pt. 1The following is a story that has been developing in my head for some time, I just didn't know it until a few days ago. The general development and conclusion has already been decided. My reason for posting this forward will be seen at the conclusion. The story will be posted in separate segments.<br />
<br />
†<br />
<br />
Sammy could barely sort through the keys to unlock his door. His job at the mine was wearing him thin. It had been a sensible choice for him after the military. He didn't know much else but hard work and he was good at it. God had given him the job and he should be grateful, but he was wearing thin. The jolt of the lock opening woke Sammy from his walking stupor. He was home. Diamond should be arriving home soon. Tomorrow was a school day. He threw his shoes in his room and started his evening routine of getting dinner ready.<br />
<br />
<br />
Laying down on his bed later that night he looked over to his Bible on the nightstand.<br />
<i> I should open</i> <i>that up</i>.<br />
He was soon distracted by the heaviness of is eyelids and the softness of his pillow. Black<br />
<br />
The shriek of the alarm always annoyed him. Over the years he replaced more than his fair share of alarm clocks. His hand always hit the clock with an alarming impact because of his training. His training also made it impossible for him to sleep more than five hours. The clock wasn't beeping six o'clock anymore. The cold water from the shower always served to get him moving in the morning.<br />
<br />
"Dia', hun, its time to get up."<br />
<br />
His ten year old daughter rolled over to face him. Her eyes opened slowly.<br />
<br />
"Five more minutes?"<br />
<br />
Sammy smiled. "You know better than that, sweety. Come on, head up, feet down, and to the shower with you." He pulled out a dress from the closet and handed it to her as she stepped out of bed.<br />
<br />
Since the death of his wife Diamond had become the center of his life. For ten years he thought of little else except his daughter. He had cleaned up for his late wife Collete, but he sacrificed for Diamond. He had put her through private school and made sure that she never needed anything. He taught her what hard work was and did the best he knew how. He was a loving father.<br />
<br />
He stopped in front of the church building that the school also used. It wasn't big, but he wanted it that way. There were good teachers there. The principal was a godly lady and he wanted Diamond to see what a godly lady was. He wouldn't have admitted it, but he wasn't willing to grow close to God since Collete's death so he settled for the principal instead.<br />
<br />
"I'm not angry at God," he would say, "we just aren't on speaking terms."<br />
<br />
He watched the door close behind Diamond as she entered the building. He drove back to the mine.<br />
<br />
"Hey Mike, you have any extra shifts this week?"<br />
<br />
Mike was known as the "Keeper of the Gate" or just Keeper for short. Sammy never called him that. He had too much respect for the elderly man.<br />
<br />
"Yeah, why are asking?"<br />
<br />
"Oh, you know how it is. College isn't cheap."<br />
<br />
"You're not thinking of going back to school, are you?"<br />
<br />
"Mike, do I look like the type to go to a college? This is for when Diamond is ready to go to a good university."<br />
<br />
"Sammy, you coddle that girl too much."<br />
<br />
"Yeah, yeah." Sammy waived him off as he grabbed his paper work for that week. He stuffed it in his locker as he grabbed his hard hat. His thoughts turned to Collete and how he missed her. It had been ten years, but he still couldn't bring himself to even think about seeing other women. To Sammy, Collete should not have died in that operating room. The doctors said that it was a freak accident. Sammy knew better. God let it happen and Sammy would not forget that, ever.<br />
<br />
When the lunch bell sounded Sammy's face was covered in dirt, soot and dust. He went to his truck to retrieve the lunch pail in the seat. Sitting at the bench he heard his name called.<br />
<br />
"Sammy, someone is on the phone for you!"<br />
<br />
He picked up the phone.<br />
<br />
"Mr. Samson Williams?"<br />
<br />
"Yeah, what'cha need?"<br />
<br />
"Sir, its about your daughter, Diamond."<br />
<br />
†Proverbial Pincushionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12433400847465080449noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4883534047878936928.post-57383965165677769152011-05-17T23:04:00.000-07:002011-05-17T23:04:16.604-07:00Where can I put my hat?Some people say home is where you lay your hat... Would you please wear my hat? They also say home is where the heart is. Well, you have already stolen that. I think you have stolen my mind too because it seems to disappear every time I see you. Seeing you is akin to seeing a Monet’s “Bridge Over Waterlilies” for the first time over and over each time with a renewed sense of wonder and admiration. That doesn’t quite do you justice as you are infinitely more complex and deep than any painting. I feel at home around you, will you wear my hat?Proverbial Pincushionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12433400847465080449noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4883534047878936928.post-38484227621423214602011-03-14T10:10:00.000-07:002011-03-14T10:10:30.166-07:00SupernaturalI do not know why I write this; even the great poets of old could not adequately describe you. It was said that even Solomon's wealth could not compare with the beauty of the lilies of the field. I say even the lilies of the field could not begin to compare with you. To say that you have simple beauty is to do you a gross injustice. Your deep and intricate complexities dwarf even the most daunting of mathematical equations. What you do have is quiet beauty. It is that incomprehensible humbleness that would rather tend to the needs of the weary than to your own. Nothing about you can be properly likened unto things that we know for everything about you is otherworldly.Proverbial Pincushionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12433400847465080449noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4883534047878936928.post-29017036145942266522011-01-16T12:49:00.000-08:002011-01-19T22:25:11.159-08:00Science, Glory, and all that stuff.Science... Ssh, don't say that.<br />
<br />
In church today, I think that science has become a dirty word. For many people and this is also true in the church it would seem that Christianity and science are in conflict. It seems to have been thrown into the realm of politics and religion. You simply don't discuss science with religion in polite conversation. I think this is due in large part to the association that evolution has with science in general. I won't get into evolution here, I might later, but that would be a long multi-part post.<br />
<br />
First let us define the term science for the sake of discussion. I am sure that one could come up with many varying definitions for science, but I will use a simple one.<br />
<br />
Science is the study of the observed. Science helps us draw conclusions from our environment and for that we are able to define and understand what may not be so readily observable.<br />
<br />
There are many things about science that the vast majority of people simply do not understand. String theory is an excellent example. I am not a scholar of physics so don't quote me on this, but if I understand the theory it goes a little something like this. The knowable universe and our four (or six or ten or infinite depending on who you talk to) dimensions are composed of an infinite (truly innumerable) number of tiny one dimensional loops. Many times these loops are explained as if they are rubber bands. This illustration is okay for the uninitiated, but it isn't actually true. While these single dimensional loops do vibrate and move they don't have anything inside them that we would understand as matter. Also to refer to them as rubber bands or even as loops as I have is still not accurate. This is simply a one dimensional space as it exists. It is space bending in upon itself in the only way that it can. If it were to behave any differently it would be, I think, violating what we consider the laws of physics. The way these SDS's (single dimensional space, a more accurate term I think) vibrate is how particles such as quarks and photons are in existence. At this point it should be noted that it is vibration in conjunction with truly unseeable space is what composes matter, light, and perhaps even energy.<br />
<br />
The point of that rather lengthy (and almost certainly flawed) explanation is that very few people even scientists do not understand this theory. I think that it would even not be too far fetched that a few of the many who have played a part in sculpting this theory do not properly understand it themselves. The other point is that while we cannot physically see these SDS's we can discern their existence or at least theorize that they exist from what we can see.<br />
<br />
A couple days ago a friend of mine said something to the effect of science not having the ability to explain the "paranormal." While she is right in that the study of what we see cannot explain many things relating to God and or the paranormal I think that it gives off a false impression that these subjects are not related. When I truly believe that the subjects are so intertwined that dividing them into separate subjects just might be... inaccurate.<br />
<br />
This brings me to my next subject. Glory. Of of the biggest if not the single greatest purpose that any single human being has is to glorify God. At times when information is incomplete or even at times false it can seem as though we should ignore it entirely. This is a mistake. If this is done and at a later time the information is completed or proven false one has missed a wonderful chance to give God glory. Let us look at the age of the earth. There are many who would stand behind the idea that the earth is billions of years old. I don't personally buy this. There are certain inconsistencies that get in the way of my believing it. I don't fully understand it, to be honest, but I can say that I am supremely confident that eventually the age of the earth will in one way or another line up with scripture. I think this was the case when people held the belief that the earth was flat. While it really wasn't as popular an idea back in the day of King Ferdinand and Queen Isabella as many think; it was a fairly prolific idea. The Bible says, "and hangeth the earth upon nothing." <br />
Job 26:7<br />
Now we know for a fact that the earth is an imperfect sphere that "hangs on nothing." Funny how that works, huh?<br />
<br />
Let us look at an unpleasant subject that relates to this very well. The crusades. I am not going to go into all the differing crusades, but I do want to recognize that they were horrific. Hundreds if not thousands of people died. Are we to ignore the ugly and disgusting side of life? No, we are to recognize it and move on. My favorite author writes the villains in his stories as particularly dark characters. Why? Because this puts contrasts and amplifies the apparent goodness of the protagonist.<br />
The people, the men, women, and children are not heroes. They are not villains. They are the slaughtered. This is not something that can be ignored. To do this is to merely continue what was started in that day. Let us acknowledge that men made horrific decisions and used God's name to rationalize their actions. When we are told not to use the Lord's name in vain <b>this</b> is what was spoken of. I do not understand how something like that can eventually bring God glory, but I am confident in that it will be used in the long run to do just that.<br />
<br />
Just what was on my mind today.<br />
<br />
Revision January 19:<br />
<br />
In regards to the "explanation" of String theory.<br />
<br />
So far no one I have spoken to has understood this; hence the quotation marks. It seems as there is some confusion regarding my mention of two dimensional spaces. I have no clue how such a "space" would exist or behave (I am sure it would be interesting) and it is not something I am attempting to address here in any length. Also, when thinking of how a SDS would behave try to think out side of the box. Chances are you perceive everything in a thread of time progressively moving forward. When contemplating anything regarding this subject one should remember that we do not live in a three dimensional world. We have more than just three dimensions with which we interact in. There are four that we can observe readily. There are the dimensions of space that are length, depth, and width, but there is also the fourth. That fourth is time. This is not a new concept, but something we have known for some time. Well, these SDS's exist outside of time. At least so far as I am able to discern they do not seem to be influenced by it... At this point it becomes fairly difficult to contend with if one is disregarding the math behind it all. I, however, am terrible at math and while I may have delusions of grandeur advanced mathematics is not part of those. The point is that these singular dimensional spaces are what compose our entire universe. If this is true an amazing thing is occurring all around us that very very few even recognize. These spaces that are made up of only a single dimension are actually producing four (and almost certainly more). I just thought it was worth mentioning that everything that you see and feel and touch and eat and hear is made up of stuff that doesn't even adhere to the same physical laws that we do. :)Proverbial Pincushionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12433400847465080449noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4883534047878936928.post-72066664918667859272011-01-15T00:45:00.000-08:002011-01-15T00:45:35.527-08:00Damn CattleI have a wolf dog. When I tell someone I have a wolf dog I say that I have a "high content wolf hybrid." She is 90% wolf. She is 100% stubborn. This past Wednesday she escaped from our yard into the adjoining field. Normally this would not be a problem and I would take the opportunity to run with her as it is so much fun for both of us. This time, though, it was not so fun. You see, in this particular field at this particular time was a herd of longhorns. These aren't just any cattle. These are very easily annoyed cattle with very large horns. As I saw her running toward this herd I called out to her. Stubborn as she is no amount of calling did any good. I started sprinting after her and trying to coral her back to the house. It was starting to work and I was chasing her back to the house when I saw my first stampede. These mad cows were running at me and my wolf. For those who have no experience with cows you should realize a few things. The first is that wolves can run fast. I am not talking like Olympic runner fast or even bicyclist fast. I am talking so fast that she can out run any deer even on a bad day. To catch up to her I had to make a mad dash for her and that is exactly what I did so when I was running back to the house I was on my last leg so to speak. Pardon the expression, but I had a particular four letter word going through my head when I saw those rather large horned beasts bearing down on me. Troublemaker shot off like an arrow for the house while I did my best to bail and hopped across the near by creek. When I finally hopped the creek the particular cow that was chasing me was about five or six feet behind me. He stopped at the edge of the creek as it is about four or so feet deep. I walked back to the house with a muddy shoe, but that was the extent of my damage. I don't know if my former Aikido teacher will ever read this or not, but I want to let anyone who reads this know that it is because of him that I managed to get away without so much as a scratch. He taught me to respond instead of react and it is because of that I remembered that the cows couldn't cross the creek where I was. Thank you, James. Also, it should be recognized that without God I wouldn't have been able to attend James' class or have the energy to run at all. Now, here I am writing and Troublemaker is a few feet away waiting for a triscuit.Proverbial Pincushionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12433400847465080449noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4883534047878936928.post-76390323271139099512011-01-02T23:21:00.000-08:002011-01-02T23:21:48.768-08:00Tourist TrapArthur's feet hurt, but he wasn't paying attention. The pain had faded to the back of his mind, that is what happens after four hours of walking. Another car passed him on the highway and then another and then another. Three days into the trip he stopped expecting people to ask if he needed a ride. There was no mistaking him and his backpack. Arthur was a hitchhiker and people knew it. They kept their distance and he was just fine with that. Ben had joined up with him two weeks ago.Arthur didn't know where Ben came from, but he was a welcome journey-mate. After looking him over Arthur figured that Ben was at least part wolf. No dewclaws, distinctive fur, and the whistling made it obvious. They made a good pair. <br />
<br />
As they saw the small town slowly becoming larger Ben stopped and ran into the field to his right. Arthur continued walking; Ben would disappear from time to time only to appear the next day. More steps. More steps. He came to the first gas station. The bell rang out as the door opened.<br />
<br />
"Excuse me, Ma'am, do you have a phone that I can use? It would have to be long-distance."<br />
<br />
The lady looked up with a face void of expression. "Phone's dead."<br />
<br />
Arthur looked around at the interior. "Any water in here?" He couldn't find any.<br />
<br />
"Out." She still had that same blank look.<br />
<br />
"Okay, thanks anyways." He walked over to the refrigerated wall and grabbed a sprite. Arthur placed it on the counter in front of the woman. Her name tag said Sue.<br />
<br />
"Sorry hun, register's broken. Don't worry about it; just enjoy." Her face changed to a devious smile with a wink.<br />
<br />
"Okay, thanks..."<br />
As the door closed behind him he heard the bell again. Arthur would have preferred water, but<br />
<br />
<i>Beggars can't be choosers,</i><br />
<br />
he thought to himself. <i> </i>As he started to guzzle the soda the taste surprised him. After the initial shock he gagged. It wasn't sweet or even cold. The cool liquid he held in his hand was warm in his mouth and tasted salty and metallic. Arthur looked at the green plastic bottle that he was holding. Nothing had changed. He poured a little in his mouth and swirled it around. He spat it back out almost immediately. It still had that warm coppery taste. Turning around to go back into the store he found that the doors were locked. The lights were off. Arthur set the bottle of the spoiled soda on the step at the door and continued to walk.<br />
<br />
Night was coming and the sun was setting. Arthur didn't like this town so he didn't stop to rest. Finding his way in the town square he saw an elaborate fountain. It looked like it belonged in some old Gothic monastery in Europe. Gargoyles seemed to stare at him. A young lady appeared to be sitting at the fountain. She was staring directly at Arthur. He couldn't change his path without making it obvious that was was avoiding her. She was attractive, but something was wrong with her eyes. He couldn't tell in the little light that was being provided by the street lamps. More steps. More steps.<br />
<br />
"Hey."<br />
<br />
"Yes, ma'am?"<br />
<br />
"Have a drink from the fountain. Its real good," she said with a lingering southern accent.<br />
<br />
"Sorry, ma'am, that looks more like mud than water. Whatever it is, I have to keep movin'."<br />
<br />
"It isn't either, but stop and have a drink. You won't regret it; everyone likes it." She took hold of his sleeve as he was passing.<br />
<br />
"Ma'am?" Arthur was confused. Then he saw her eyes. They were dilated almost to the point that she didn't even have an iris showing. Her pupils were unnaturally large. She wouldn't let go.<br />
<br />
"Ma'am, I need to keep moving, please let go." She didn't instead she scooped up the liquid in the fountain and threw it at him. She had good aim. It hit him on the mouth. He spat it back out. It tasted exactly like the sprite from the store. He jerked his hand back wiping the mud from his face.<br />
<br />
"What the in the world is that?" He started to back up, but still heading the way he wanted to.<br />
<br />
"You don't like it? Its honey, everybody likes it. Why don't you like it? Nuthin' but the blood of Jesus..."<br />
<br />
"What are you talking about? What? I'm leaving." Arthur turned and started jogging.<br />
<br />
The girl screamed.<br />
<br />
Arthur started running. He had no idea what was going on and didn't care to find out. A man stepped out in front of him and they both fell into a heap. The man got up. He was in a mechanics jumpsuit and from the look of the grease he had on him he had been working.<br />
<br />
"Why don't like our honey, son? Its nuthin', but the blood of Jesus. Doesn't it taste good?"<br />
<br />
"No it doesn't! It tastes like..." It struck Arthur with the force of a mac truck.<br />
<br />
<i>Blood.</i><br />
<br />
The man's eyes widened as he heard Arthur stop short his sentence. His eyes weren't right either.<br />
"You know him don't you?" He shouted at Arthur with fear and urgency in his voice.<br />
<br />
"We have a right to be here, you know! Leave us! Leave us! We don't want you here!"<br />
<br />
"Jesus, what is going on here?" Arthur whispered a small prayer.<br />
<br />
"Ahh! Don't say his name! Get out! Get out!"<br />
<br />
Not knowing what to do, Arthur started running to the edge of town. The sun being gone completely it was hard to see, but he could make out the forms of others walking out of buildings one by one.<br />
<br />
"Jesus make this stop." Out of breath Arthur could barely say the words.<br />
<br />
His prayer was met with screams from inside the town. He had to stop running. He was so thirsty. He hadn't had any water all day. He looked up. Only the girl aJnd the man were standing where he could see. They had twisted looks of hate.<br />
<br />
"What are you doing here?"<br />
<br />
No response.<br />
<br />
Arthur started to pray, "Jesus..."<br />
<br />
Before he could utter another word the man and girl started screaming again. <br />
<br />
"Make this stop. Help these people." The screaming stopped finally.<br />
<br />
The man and girl collapsed and didn't get up. Arthur couldn't decide to leave or to check them out. He walked over and looked at them. He wasn't sure if they were still a threat or not.<br />
<br />
"Hello?"<br />
<br />
The man's eyes opened.<br />
<br />
"Who are you?"<br />
<br />
"My name is Arthur," he said as he helped him up. "Do you know what is going on here?"<br />
<br />
"I don't know, why is my daughter on the ground?" He picked her up. "She must have had one of her fits again."<br />
<br />
"I need to get going. You guys gonna be okay?"<br />
<br />
"Yeah, you need a place to stay, son?"<br />
<br />
"No thanks, I just as soon get outta here." <br />
<br />
"Suit yourself, be careful though; its dangerous out there."<br />
<br />
The next morning Arthur woke up in a field just outside of town with Ben licking his face.<br />
<br />
"Good morning, Ben. Lets go get something to eat." Just as he said that Arthur looked up to see the blackberry bush that he had missed the night before.<br />
<br />
Ben just whistled.Proverbial Pincushionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12433400847465080449noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4883534047878936928.post-879395850866557192010-12-31T23:18:00.000-08:002010-12-31T23:18:22.012-08:00The Awesomeness of ParablesThe greatest teacher ever to walk the face of the earth spoke in parables all the time. I have oft wondered why. Why wouldn't he just tell them in straight forward terms? Would that not just be the more honest approach? Through out the years I have seen that God has no one reason for doing anything. The very idea that He would only have a single reason for anything He does is rather absurd when one bothers to think about it. God is the most complex being the universe has ever seen. He is so brilliant, ingenious and complex that He has the ability to compose the universe that we are in as a beautiful song. The mathematical equations that govern the universe are so infinitely amazing and truly song like that I would venture to say that even with the collective intelligence of every human being that has ever lived we would still not be able to devise anything with such complex elegance. The point is that there are numerous reasons for every action. So a more reasonable question than "Why wouldn't He just tell them in straight forward terms," would be "What are His reasons for this round about story telling?" Before I continue please remember this is purely speculation and there are no doubt countless reasons that I cannot even begin to fathom. <br />
<br />
There have been several occasions when I attempt to explain things to people and the response has been the glazed over deer in the headlights face. This happens more than I care to admit. Even after simplifying the explanation as much as possible I still see the zombified expression. The ideas that Jesus was exposing people to are much more difficult to grasp then my explaining the philosophy in ballistics. Taking this into account it is not hard at all to imagine that more than a few would just back off out of sheer frustration. Teaching in parables gives the audience an opportunity to digest the ideas over time. I think a good way to illustrate this is to bring up digestion, oddly enough. If one eats too much food too fast the body is forced to reject it as the body simply does not have the capacity to digest all of it fast enough. If too much information is given to a person without the proper time to "digest" it the person will retain very little of what was given. Give a person enough time to "munch" on an idea and you are likely to get a desirable response. There are times when it has taken me months before I am properly able to verbalize an idea that has been floating around in my noggin.<br />
<br />
Another reason is mystery. There is something to be said about a person who can communicate an idea through mystery. Mystery keeps stubborn people interested. It causes the inquisitive to be even more inquisitive. Mystery, oddly enough, can, at times, shed more light on an issue than any other element. Those with the motivation or energy enough to investigate this mystery will often uncover more to the idea than would have been seen if it were explained in "plain terms". Remember as a child when someone would start as if to say something only to recant or say, "Naw, I shouldn't say anything." I don't know about you, but it would infuriate me. I would stop at nothing to find out what ever small and insignificant piece of information that was being withheld. Children are stubborn, no? In response to a vague story those with questioning minds are given to the tendency to ask even more than they would otherwise. If one believes that they understand all there is to understand about an issue why would he question any further? <br />
<br />
Contrary to my last point, parables can provide even more clarity than a standard explanation. Let us look at the parable of the sower and the different ground. A man was sowing seed an threw seeds this way and that. Some landed in the path while others landed around the thorns. Some found their place on the rocks while still others found themselves on fertile ground. Needless to say this would have left those listening scratching their heads. As they say hindsight is 20/20. We can look at this with (presumed) understanding that those who first heard it did not have. The seeds that landed on the path were eaten by the crows. These crows are the (presumably) people that come after the message is given that discourage any growth or "munching" of the idea of salvation. The stones portion represents those who hear the word but don't bother to "sink their teeth into it." When the hard times come those who have not let it sink to their very core will be shaken in times of hardship. The thorns represent those who hear the word, but become preoccupied with the trappings and problems of this world. The fertile ground represents the minds of those who welcome the message of salvation and let it grow in their hearts. Just saying that there are people who will not "get it" and listing the types is not nearly as detailed as explaining it with the characteristics of soil and plants and animals in terms that the people of the era would identify with.<br />
<br />
Also, a well worded parable displays an intimate knowledge and familiarity of and with the ideas being presented. Obviously, Jesus has the best understanding of this out of anyone. I think that it would behoove us as His followers to take another look at the parables that Jesus taught. When was the last time you looked at a parable?<br />
<br />
Brownie points go to the people who can site the reason that Jesus actually gave. For much better explanations of the actual parables read the scripture following. My explanations are influenced by a limited mind and a tired body. Jesus is a lot better at explaining it. For the parable of the sower go to Matthew 13. All in all parables are really cool.<br />
<br />
Also, I figured I would let you few who read this know that I have started writing a book (again). It is about why I carry. This is partially because I am continuously bothered by people about going to college while, at this point in time, I am totally unable to do so. At the very least, if I do somehow manage to get a book published I can those bothersome people to go read my book. The way it is turning out readers will think me either a completely mad man or someone that does, in point of fact, have an operating brain that does more than just control some involuntary bodily functions like breathing. Now all I have to do is actually finish it.Proverbial Pincushionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12433400847465080449noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4883534047878936928.post-8359479648590791712010-12-21T10:23:00.000-08:002010-12-21T10:23:52.732-08:00We need no higher standardRecently, I was looking at a website of a particular brand of knife. If you know knives you will know who I mean when I say that they are famous in the worst places. I saw a link on the site and clicked on it and found another rather interesting site. It was not peddling another product or talking about training, but it was a sort of club. It would appear that the members of this interesting little club would think of themselves as modern day nights. I will not comment on whether or not one should do this, though I do think that little point would be interesting to explore in the future, rather, I want to explore another concept put forth on the site. The concept was the following:<br />
<br />
Those who seek to do good and who also have a set of skills that are particularly dangerous are to be held to a higher code of conduct.<br />
<br />
On the surface I agree, but that is like saying you only like the icing of the cake and don't care for the cake itself. Let us examine the cake though. In implication that may be inferred from this is that those who do not meet the two given requirements do not need to be held to a higher code of conduct. Should this be the case? Should those who seek to do good, but do not have a skill set that is particularly dangerous be held to a lesser standard? Or should those who have a dangerous skill set, but do not seek to do good be held to a code of lesser ethical behavior?<br />
<br />
Obviously, this cannot be the case. I think that the statement can be refined to a point where it is valid and accurate. Before I continue further it should be noted that the statement above is not a direct quote. It is the best single sentence that I could use to summarize the concept put forth. I think that all should be held to the same code of conduct. We, in point of fact, are. We will be judged by it after we die. I think that the statement may be altered by eliminating this truely odd implication(though it is one that has been in the circles of warriors for centuries). I think that perhaps it should read in stead that those who possess this intent and skill should be held to a stricter code of conduct. Not higher, but more rigid. Why? The rules governing these should be more unyielding because of the two formerly stated characteristics. They seek to do good. This being the case these must always take into account that even the smallest of actions can have terrible consequences. Thus those who seek to avoid this should do well to hold themselves to a stricter discipline.<br />
<br />
Those who possess the ability to kill or maim with ease should also be held to stricter discipline for the very apparent and obvious reason that they are able to do much damage with little and even unintended effort. When the to previously mentioned characteristics have come to fruition in a single individual stricter discipline is required. Desire is a thing easily lost. Even the desire to do what is right can be lost. Having a stricter code of discipline may help to prevent this. If one were to assemble a unit of soldiers who have these two characteristics only to see the aforementioned desire lost we would have something all together different. We would have a group of, what would accurately be called, monsters.<br />
<br />
I will go so far even to admit that i have personal experience with this. I have the desire to do the right thing. I also possess the skills and know how required to kill. Neither of these is hard to come by. I also feel the constant pull and tug to altogether forget God and forget family and what is needed. The temptation has been there for sometime now and I think that it may always be there. This is just a point to show that such a rigid structure of discipline is needed.<br />
<br />
We need no higher code of conduct. What we are in need of is a higher code of discipline.Proverbial Pincushionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12433400847465080449noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4883534047878936928.post-70080442932254552872010-12-11T21:48:00.000-08:002010-12-11T21:48:44.180-08:00The AgedHow is the age of a person determined?<br />
I believe that this question is very much like Hamlet's immortal query, "To be, or not to be?" The answer at first glance would seem an obvious one, but is it truly?<br />
<br />
Determining the physical age of one's body is no great feat. My body is twenty one years old. My mind though...<br />
<br />
This is where many would scoff and scorn; particularly those who are of a greater physical age than myself. I would put forth, though, that the true age of one is not determined by the physical age of one's body. <br />
<br />
It has been said that reality is perception. This is, of course(read the about me portion if you would), false. Reality is not based upon what we perceive, but, in fact, it is the inverse. This is made apparent by those who are not so well in the mind. The ravings of a lunatic may indicate that those around him are attempting to kill him, but this does not make it so(though I wonder how many times the lunatic was not so mad). This does not mean that there is a tiny shred of truth in the mix of this lie.<br />
<br />
It is apparent that one may, if so inclined, learn from the mistakes and adventures of others. If this is the case is it also possible to gain age after a fashion though this process as well? I believe that it also may be able to age though harsh experiences. It would seem then that aging may be separated into three separate categories. Physical. Experiencial. Prosaical.<br />
<br />
On a personal level I believe that I have a surplus of the latter two and would gladly give some out if the option existed.<br />
<br />
So far as experiencial age is concerned I have more than most and less than many. In times of crisis and pain, to be honest, I feel old. I don't mean old and decrepit, but weary of life and its, at times, seemingly pointless struggles. This is not depression or despair, but its own sort of longing for needed rest.<br />
<br />
On the other side of the coin I would like to point out my former landlord. The man fought in WWII and is above ninety, yet he still has that mischievous twinkle in his eye. He can out work men half his age and while he is physically old he is younger than many. This is a man I admire much and have learned a great deal from. I remember hearing him talk about restoring an old jeep similar to the one he drove in the last great war. "You have the part mechanic, part blacksmith, and half crazy to rebuild one of these."<br />
<br />
This man has been through much and learned much, but he is still young. Perhaps there is still more to the equation. What ever the case may be I am tired and must go to bed. I am tired.Proverbial Pincushionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12433400847465080449noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4883534047878936928.post-10882565278796807732010-12-08T21:26:00.000-08:002010-12-08T21:26:09.680-08:00Crime and Punishement and DisciplineI have in the past pondered the criminal justice system. I won't cover how it is a broken system. I will, however discuss the odd manner of punishment. When someone commits a crime we have generally two methods of discipline. For minor crimes we fine people. For more serious crimes we put them in prison. Since I was a small child this whole prison thing seemed odd to me. I never understood it and to be honest I still don't. I suppose a better way of stating this would be to say that like many other topics I find that I disagree with what society in general has come to accept.<br />
<br />
How is it that we came to this notion that throwing someone in a concrete box with food was a good idea? In all sincerity, I would love to meet the gent that originally suggested this method of punishment and learn his thoughts on the matter. I have not been in prison so I cannot attest to what it is like, but I will work with what little knowledge I have. One does not have to worry about food. By this I mean that inmates are given a set diet that is to government specs. I still have yet to see that as a good thing for anyone. If we are going to use food as a form of punishment let us declare it and let it be known.<br />
<br />
There is also the issue of rape. I do not know how big of an issue this is or how much of a threat of rape there is in prisons on average. I do believe that it happens. This is not meant to be a form of punishment and nor should it be. This is not something that should happen. <b>IF</b> this is something happening on a daily basis or even on a semi-regular basis than this alone should be grounds for at least re-examining the prison system.<br />
<br />
The thing that has been bugging me the most about these concrete prisons is the word "why." Why do we have them? <br />
<br />
I have throughout this little post been using the terms discipline and punishment interchangeably. I have done this for a purpose. Did you notice this? In actuality, punishment and discipline are two different things. Punishment is given as it is deserved. It is given because it is deserved. Discipline is given to correct.<br />
<br />
The question, for me at least, is hanging in the air like a bad stench. Is prison for punishment or is it for discipline?<br />
<br />
If it is for punishment then it makes no sense at all. Just punishment for any sin is death according to scripture. No, I don't care to place in a reference here to back up that claim. You go do that.<br />
<br />
If it is not for punishment as it would seem then it may be for discipline, right?<br />
In that case, how many learn not to commit another crime after coming out of prison? As I understand it, many times after exiting a prison a former inmate may be forced to resort back to criminal behavior to simply make a living.<br />
If you want my suggestion go read Proverbs. Solomon had an interesting take on it all.Proverbial Pincushionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12433400847465080449noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4883534047878936928.post-58688881595245744252010-12-05T17:17:00.000-08:002010-12-05T17:20:45.610-08:00Sorrow and MemoriesThe makeshift road block was working. Ever since the crash no road bound vehicles had approached the now hidden home. Only three months had passed, but thousands had died from starvation, but that number would soon be eclipsed by the deaths caused by violence. <br />
<br />
"Otto, how are you doing on ammo?" Teller's radio squealed as he released the button.<br />
<br />
"Only one mag down, so I am good on primary for now. You?" More static.<br />
<br />
"I'm on my... Damn it! Here they come again!"<br />
<br />
Six men appeared over the berm fifty yards away. They were armed with what ever they had been able to get their hands on. On had what looked like a crowbar while the others appeared to have guns. The one on the far left raised a rifle and chambered a round. Teller quickly sent two rounds into his gut.<br />
<br />
The other five quickly took notice and started running in all directions. Two continued toward the house and Teller responded with his "Russian" as Otto dispatched two more.<br />
<br />
Mark Teller crouched again in his half-finished trench. <br />
<br />
<i>How many were there? Five? Or was there six?</i><br />
<br />
Teller's radio squealed again.<br />
<br />
"I got a couple, but Crowbar got away. You, see where he went?"<br />
<br />
"Missed him. too"<br />
<br />
Teller made a quick 360 scan of the area. Not any immediate trace.<br />
<br />
"Hey, Otto, I don't think we will be seeing him any time soon, again. He was the last one, right?"<br />
<br />
"As far as I can tell. Keep an eye out though, those are vindictive little scavengers."<br />
<br />
Teller sat back down. Images of how things were before the collapse meandered though his mind. He allowed himself to think of what things would be like if they had not changed. He would be at the forge beating on some steel. The people he had just killed would still be in the city doing what ever job it was that they had. Coasting though life never imagining that perhaps the next big news event would not be half a world away. <br />
<br />
<i>No, this time we are the story.</i><br />
<br />
He remembered His niece running up to him and giving him a hug. His little brother had grown up. David was almost 24 now and Jessica would have been five. David was an excellent father despite his young age. He worked day and night and on his off time he would play with his daughter. He had built a swing for her on the tree next to their small home. He would push her until she decided to play hide and seek or that she was hungry. David's wife, Gayla, was a quiet girl, but she was a good wife. She always let David know when he was doing something idiotic, or when he simply needed to sit down and rest.<br />
<br />
A tear came to Teller's eye. There was no more Jessica. There was no more Gayla. David was the only one to survive when they were attacked. They were sleeping and they had food. They were easy targets. The man who shot them would have said that they were asking for it, but he never did. David killed him when he was finally able to get to his own gun. The funeral was small and quick. There was little time to mourn. People were hungry and if they knew that this small group had food there would be too many people to handle. Now David was behind the house prepping some venison for dehydration. He was handling it all as well as he could. <br />
<br />
<i>How did it all come to this?</i><br />
<br />
<b>CRACK!</b><br />
<br />
A gunshot.<br />
<br />
"Hey, Teller, Crowbar came back."<br />
<br />
"You got him?"<br />
<br />
"Yeah, I got him."Proverbial Pincushionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12433400847465080449noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4883534047878936928.post-59832496542497185572010-12-02T20:09:00.000-08:002010-12-02T20:09:07.370-08:00Further RamblingI have been thinking about relationships lately. They are terribly messy and complicated. Even the most simple can become a tangle of awkwardness for those of us who are not so adept in the social realm. I am more of a watcher. I like to observe people. For me it is really fun to see friends having a good time. I remember a time when I was on a mission trip with my church. The was a blast. We cleaned out a house nine months after a hurricane had ripped it. Some of us even got to help rebuild a house that belonged to a particular couple. I wasn't part of the group to help with the reflooring of that house, but I sorta wish I had been. I remember hearing that the husband passed away a while back. I wonder how the surviving wife is doing every once in a while. Anyways back on topic. One night we went out for ice cream at a Dairy Queen near by. When all got something and sat down. I just stood by the door watching everybody and having fun. The guys were all laughing and having a really great time. It is something that stuck with me and I think always will. I think that it is sad that people who watch others are considered creepy. I watch people all the time, but I have no ill intent. Perhaps, if you are scared by someone watching you steps to protect yourself are in order. More importantly, if you are easily scared perhaps you should ask yourself why. If you are scared easily by a person... Have you thought about God? If you are a Christian and you are scared, why? You have the Creator of the universe on your side. More accurately, you are on His side. Could it be that you are not totally trusting Him? I will be the first to admit that I have trouble with this. As gold it purified by fire so are we by trials. That is not a quote from scripture, but there is a similar illustration. The more trials that I go through (small that they are in comparison to those of others) do over time help me trust Him. Honestly, trust is elusive and yet all to ready at the wrong times. Well to bed I am off. Work at 0700 tomorrow is going to be a formidable task; at least I get off before the sunset.Proverbial Pincushionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12433400847465080449noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4883534047878936928.post-74972826687419805172010-11-21T20:53:00.000-08:002010-11-21T20:53:35.968-08:00Fatherless SonsToday I was offered a small job as a "big brother." This past summer I volunteered at a church camp as a counselor. I was in charge of ten boys between the ages of ten and twelve. It was strenuous, but very fun. The mother of one of the boys asked me today after I came down from helping with the children's church if I would be interested in acting as a "big brother" to her son. She is a single parent and works for a local school. After the camp I actually thought about this boy in particular because of some interesting idiosyncrasies of his. What is interesting is that this unlike any of my other"jobs" of volunteer positions would actually provide income. I have for a time been intending to eventually start volunteering at a local children's shelter, but because of financial constraints that has been something that has been regarded as a mid-term goal. Now, though, with this possible position and a possible reference from this mother and also considering that this will be a paying position this goal seems much closer than before. In reference to the boy: I will not be discussing him any further as I do not want to disclose any information that his mother would not want known. She may find out about my little project here through me or a friend and decide to allow more information to be posted, but unless that happens I am quite content to not post further information. I grew up without a father as well. There were times a man from our church would come and hang out with me. Those times I look back with great fondness. There is one problem with them though. Such men and occasions were too few and far between. My mother remarried when I was fourteen and her second husband was a terrible man who at one point nearly killed her. They are divorced now. Ever since then I have had an idea in the back of my mind. An inkling of a thought has been gnawing at my brain. It is an idea for an organization to mentor boys (and girls as well if any women would eventually be interested in this) with out fathers. I know of the Boys and Girls Club of America and there is no doubt that they have been a positive organization for many out there. They have some short comings as all organizations run by humans are bound to have. I have no delusions of "fixing" them or even ever becoming as large as they are, but there are certain things that can and should be improved upon. As I understand they are currently allowing homosexuals to volunteer. While homosexuals are regular members of society as heterosexuals are a gay male doesn't exactly make the best male role-model. There is a lot to growing up in to a man. There are the all the aspects of chivalry to learn (few of which I have really learned). There is the mastery of discretion. Learning how to properly balance strength with gentleness is no easy task either. Most of all growing into a man means becoming the man that God wants you to be. The idea that a man and a woman should together raise children was not just some random decision that God rolled a dice on. God is not a man and He is not a woman. Both genders were derived from His nature. A boy (girls as well) needs a good example of both genders interacting in the manner that God designed. The best example I have had the privilege of seeing was that of my aunt and uncle. Their's is a wonderful marriage.<br />
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Ephesians 5<br />
22 Wives, submit yourselves unto your own husbands, as unto the Lord.<br />
23 For the husband is the head of the wife, even as Christ is the head of the church: and he is the saviour of the body.<br />
24 Therefore as the church is subject unto Christ, so let the wives be to their own husbands in every thing.<br />
25 Husbands, love your wives, even as Christ also loved the church, and gave himself for it;<br />
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Wives, submit yourselves unto your own husbands, as unto the Lord. This is a part that many people get hung up on so much so that they miss the next portion and in doing so miss the amazing picture of love that is in it. While the wife is to submit the husband is also to sacrifice out of love for his wife even to the point of horrendous pain and death. If this description of marriage is followed any and all conflicts are made pointless and small.<br />
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I myself cannot demonstrate all these qualities and set a perfect example, but its a start. I hope that if this idea of a group of mentors takes off in any way at all others will be drawn to help as well.Proverbial Pincushionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12433400847465080449noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4883534047878936928.post-46701023272974735112010-11-18T08:32:00.000-08:002010-11-18T08:32:17.579-08:00The not so great divide.This morning I saw an article claiming that four out of ten people believe that marriage is obsolete. I believe that this figure is wrong in more than one sense. It seems that the number would be much higher if peoples actions were taken into account and also I find this deeply saddening.<br />
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Marriage is a beautiful picture of how we interact with our Creator. It is a picture of sacrifice, protection, beauty, and love. I have an aunt and uncle who have, as far as I can tell, a wonderful marriage. I think that it is due in part to the fact that they knew this when my uncle was dating his future wife. There are many other factors that played a part, but again I think it was largely due to their understanding of God's purpose for marriage.<br />
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People stopped caring about their relationship with their spouses and then when their kids became adults they didn't know to care. This is not an excuse. They simply have not been shown how to love. That is really sad. I encourage you to find the best marriage in your circle of friends and watch how they interact. There is a method to this madness called love.Proverbial Pincushionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12433400847465080449noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4883534047878936928.post-64207074512626776942010-11-11T10:15:00.000-08:002010-11-11T10:15:40.213-08:00Meeting BeautySeeing you standing there makes me more nervous than you can possibly imagine. You don't serve to help matters when your gaze meets my fearful glance. You the one person that can make my mind go absolutely blank with no hope of recovery until you do something. For even the birds become silent when you speak afraid that they might miss even a single word. What I feel now is very little fear or nervousness. Almost all I feel now is a combination of love and admiration. Truly, on the the great Creator and God of the universe could be responsible for this amazing and beautiful young woman here. I only hope that I can be a fraction of the blessing to you that you have been to me. You are in truth the personification of Beauty.Proverbial Pincushionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12433400847465080449noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4883534047878936928.post-27613597731155199402010-11-09T10:38:00.000-08:002010-11-09T10:38:59.183-08:00What right have you?They who can give up essential liberty to obtain a little temporary safety, deserve neither liberty nor safety.<br />
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That, folks, was from the infamous and ingenious Benjamin Franklin. This statement is centered on rights. Many in the last few hundred years seem to put much stock into what our rights are and what they are not. I have a question though. From whom do we obtain these rights? I have heard many times that there are basic "human rights." You must pardon me, but I find the notion that we have rights simply for the fact that we are human rather absurd. Rights are bestowed upon one by another, they do not magically attach themselves to a person or persons because they happen to be taller or shorter than another person. Let us look at a document that we here in the United States and many outside our boarders know of. We wrote the Declaration of Independence July 4, 1776. In the second paragraph you will find the following sentence.<br />
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We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.<br />
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In this previous statement it is suggested that we are given what rights we have from our Creator. This would seem to make sense to me. I work with the public. I also work in a building that has rooms and places the general public is not permitted while I am. I am able to go in these rooms and areas because I have been given the right to do so from my employer. Those who are not employed there are not permitted to go in certain areas as they have not been given permission by the owners of the property or by his or her representatives. In this case the person who owns this property and his/her representatives are the persons who have the authority to grant permission to access areas. In this example it is those who possess authority that grant a right to act in a particular manner such as venturing into a particular area. If there were no owners of land and property there would be no person or persons to prohibit venturing into or onto certain regions or areas. Such rights are given and revoked by that person in a particular office of authority and can be given or revoked by an even higher authority if such an office of authority exists. When one bestows upon another certain rights and there is no other in a position of authority that is higher than that of the original authority than there is none that can revoke the rights bestowed excluding, again, that original authority.<br />
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Let us say that there is a person. This person is represented as person "A"and has absolute and unquestionable authority. This person would then be God or as our forefathers called Him the Creator. Perhaps it would be better to say that this is a representation of God. Let us then say that we also have another person. This is person "B" and he represents humanity as a whole. When person "A" bestows upon person "B" rights there is no other entity that can revoke these rights. The only person with the authority to revoke these rights is person "A". Person "B" may chose not to exercise certain of these rights, but he still has them. Therefore, it may be inferred that no person within the group of person "B" has the authority to strip another in the same group of the rights that person "A" has bestowed.<br />
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As you can see it is rather absurd to think that a man can revoke the rights of another. It is as equally as foolish to believe that any one should ever attempt retard the rights of another.<br />
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Let us touch on a very heated topic. Immigration. There are those who say that people who cross our boarder through illegal means have none of our rights. Many if not all of these people will say the same for a supposed terrorist. To those of you who would say this I call you an idiot of the worst and most dangerous sort. The rights that we possess as I have previously stated are given to us by God. To think that you or any other man, government official or not, have the power and authority to revoke or inhibit the rights of another man even if he is from another country is pure and unadulterated idiocy.<br />
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I concede the fact that there are occasions when rights are to be revoked. Let us look at the covenant that God made with Noah. If a man takes the life of one man his life, too, is to be taken. In that particular occasion his right to life has been revoked when it is proven beyond a reasonable doubt that he has needlessly taken a life. Entering a country illegally, however, is not murder.<br />
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Make no mistake, the moment that a person can find an excuse to inhibit the rights of a particular group, be they immigrants, supposed terrorist, or any other particular group of people that same person has then opened the door to inhibit those same rights that belong to you. Let us take a second look at that first statement.<br />
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They who can give up essential liberty to obtain a little temporary safety, deserve neither liberty nor safety.<br />
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Those of you who would give up rights for your own safety are welcome to it. Just remember you are in fact doing something that is already outside of your right to do. You are denying the rights that God himself bestowed upon you. The moment that you accept that the end justifies the means is the moment you lower yourself to the level of those who you would seek to combat.<br />
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Of course there is much more to say on this topic, but I don't want to write a book on here. This is enough for now.<br />
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Almost forgot, as a disclaimer it should be noted that if you do not believe in an almighty Creator, than this, while it still does apply, is not so intended for you. Honestly, if there is no Creator I don't see how rights can exist at all. Good thing He does.Proverbial Pincushionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12433400847465080449noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4883534047878936928.post-59323698856427961982010-10-27T21:26:00.000-07:002010-10-27T21:26:42.687-07:00I don't want to die quietly in my sleep. I want to die with multiple stab wounds, riddled with bullets and with people cursing my name. It will mean that I stood for a cause that cost everything.Proverbial Pincushionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12433400847465080449noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4883534047878936928.post-48191247764876952842010-09-12T00:15:00.000-07:002010-11-22T22:30:01.538-08:00The JewelIt has been said that eyes are the window to the soul. I know this to be true because I have seen straight into yours. The beauty of a sunset could not even begin to compare to what I see in you. When your soft fingers brush against my face it feels like a jolt of electricity and when you into my eyes it is all I can do to stay standing. And just when I am foolish enough to try to earn your love your actions remind me that is just simply not possible. You are like a gem I have found in a wasteland. Beautiful, precious, rare, and amazing in every way. Only this gem chose me when I picked her up; this rare pearl of a immeasurable worth. The way you walk is as a gentle breeze dances from place to place ever gracefully and beautifully stirring. To say that you are some sort of angel would be wrong. Nay, an angel couldn't command such awe and admiration from me. You have a feminine grace that no angel could ever hope to match.Proverbial Pincushionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12433400847465080449noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4883534047878936928.post-90965858148822979382010-09-06T22:12:00.000-07:002010-09-06T22:12:08.599-07:00A Love UnconditionalYour gaze penetrates to my soul and I feel naked. You peel back any mask I have ever put on and you see the real me. This is the moment I have dreaded and yet I see no scorn. I see no disgust. I only see love and hope and understanding. What I feared was only the cold lie of another. No, I now feel your warm, loving arms enveloping me in an embrace that will never truely end. I feel my cheek touch yours and the painful memories are washed away. How can you love me, I wonder, but… I know. I know, but will never be able to really understand.Proverbial Pincushionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12433400847465080449noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4883534047878936928.post-88216404804684782302010-09-05T20:04:00.000-07:002010-09-05T20:04:03.168-07:00On the Flaws of FathersToday I took my little sister and a friend of ours into town to run an errand and to hang out a bit. My little sister doesn't get out that much and neither does our friend. Stopped by a local book shop and picked up the Federalist. It was composed by three authors; Alexander Hamilton, James Madison, and John Jay. I started to read the first of the Essays and I wasn't able to get through the first page before I was compelled to start writing down my thoughts on what was written. I took the first one or two sentences and rewrote them in my own words and started to expound upon them with of course my own thoughts. That first paragraph really got me thinking. Right about now my friend, Maggie, is rolling her eyes; yes, Maggie, I know, dangerous.<br />
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What constitutes the constitution is very much influential upon the very fate of the Union. This amazing experiment shall show (I hope) if the fate of the ruling class is fixed to be continuously corrupt. After 234 years we seem to have found ourselves at an even more precarious edge. There are those who are intent, or at least seem to be intent, upon violating the freedoms and liberties that we have already fought, died, and killed for.<br />
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"The tree of liberty must be refreshed from time to time with the blood of patriots & tyrants."<br />
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Thomas Jefferson wrote this in a letter to a gent by the name of William Smith. Let us ponder for a moment just how true these words are.<br />
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No, really, I mean think about it a bit.<br />
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Good, now that you have I will tell you that I believe these words to be true. Honestly, I have come to deeply and utterly hate this well known sentence for how true its words are. The killing of another human being is most abhorrent. The idea that one would have to take such drastic action for such a cause in such an occasion that it is the only viable option shows that a pitiful path had been previously chosen to reach such a climax. Should one pursue political liberty at such a cost? Due to a deification of this nation's founders and that ever pervasive and cunning deception many and perhaps most would believe that it should be. I hold it to be true that and certain that such an end even if achieved would not justify such deplorable means, but also that this metal of truth be tempered by the even more shunned idea of familial responsibility. There are many thoughts I am sure on what one's responsibilities are concerning family. I am, of course, speaking of the defense of the family in general. In my case I see this responsibility extend past those I am related to by blood and farther still than even those I consider friends. I mean to say that those even who I do not know being innocent to a reasonable extent are held in this "circle" that also includes my family and friends. This as a matter of course is pointing toward the singular right to bear arms, but that alone is not what I would focus on for now. Rather it is the idea that while it is wrong to kill for political liberty it is as equally heinous to abandon one's family to be slaughtered by the wolves of poverty, perversion, and violence. Granted, for the time being things are not so terrible that such terms would apply to everyone, but is it not in the terrible times that we see things for as they truly are? Is it not the fire that purifies gold and rids it of its impurities? Is it reasonable to think that our actions will suddenly change for the better when the dark time comes? Those of you who would reply yes to that are fools of the worst sort. When situations intensify so do people's natures. They do not change. While such a change is not impossible it so rare that it is for all practical purposes. Taking this into consideration this idea of a balance between the preservation of general life at the cost of one's freedom and the preservation of the lives of one's family at the expense of those not so close and perhaps not so innocent is not to be thought of lightly. After thinking on this, and take heed my friends consider this well, I ask a question that many would hold as heretical, but of course never use such term. Were our founding fathers right in their rebellion towards the obvious tyrannical King George the Third? Think on this.Proverbial Pincushionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12433400847465080449noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4883534047878936928.post-8079422999062207432010-09-05T00:48:00.000-07:002010-09-05T00:48:15.306-07:00Introduction?I suppose that when I title this introduction I do not refer to you being introduced to me, but rather me being introduced to this whole blogging thing. I am doing this more or less as a journal. I have never been able to keep up with journals so my ability to stick with this is questionable to say the least. If I do manage to keep at this it may be a good thing for me. I think I have interesting thoughts, but just as everybody thinks themselves special my thoughts may be just as ordinary as the layman's. This I doubt though as I honestly believe that the majority of folks out there are willfully ignorant. Perhaps it would be better put to say that the larger end of the population is merely moving through life without thought to things of a deeper nature. I see the general public everyday and to come across a person who is not entirely focused on the objects that they perceive to be in front of them is rare. The very fact that the atoms composing what they are standing on are really mostly nothing is lost on them. The possibility that the things that matter most are not seen is totally lost on them. Them them them. I should give this ignorant public a personification; at least so that I may simplify my speech on here. Hence forth people of such an apathetic, ignorant, and/or idiotic manner she be referred to as Madame Moron as the larger portion of people I deal with are middle aged females. And on that note might I rant a bit? Today I encountered a presumably married woman who many would consider quite attractive. Make no mistake, she was, but the cut of her blouse, if one were to use that ha to describe such an article of clothing, was so incredibly low that all other male eyes were venturing below her face. I understand that is the norm for today, but would it kill her to show a modicum of modesty? Am I the only one here that finds such a display so irritating? I am sure that this is coming off as self-righteous, but is it so much to ask that a woman take into account that there may be a guy out there that doesn't want to look at her chest? I suppose I will limit my complaining to that today. Perhaps I will talk about other things later on. I think I may be discussing everything from politics to philosophy to religion and everything among those. Though, in my opinion they are all very interconnected. Things are more connected than people realize. I may not see the man have a stroke across the street, but that does not mean that the ambulance will not slow traffic briefly. I may not even notice it, but that does not mean that such a connection exists. Well, I suppose those are enough thoughtful ramblings for tonight.Proverbial Pincushionhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12433400847465080449noreply@blogger.com0