I believe that Jesus comes to us with a still, small voice, too, so I don't believe that the less bouncy services are by any means dead, but this certainly seemed to be where Jesus wanted this family to be. Perhaps, this was so that they could more often experience the feeling of real and original conversations instead of simply repeating the prayers composed by others!
Do you remember that Shirley Temple movie about the little princess and how the nasty housemother said a very formal grace but Sarah (the girl Shirley played) continued the prayer with a conversational tone? I think she did the same thing in the movie, Heidi, if I remember correctly.
Now, this is what I would call really sweet, simple, heartfelt, and well-crafted! I could see it illustrated with delicate pictures and becoming a wall poster or a greeting card. In short, great work!
I wonder if another name for the story of Hansel and Gretel might be Guess Who's Coming To Dinner. LOL
I've heard of Chicken Fingers, but was that old bat wanting Children Fingers?
Anyway, that's one great fractured fairy tale, and all I can say is that I hope that old hag can stand the heat, because she's going to be stuck in the kitchen BIGTIME!
A tall, black man, eh? Anyone we know? Will he be writing a book about this?
It sounds as if our young singer should have gone with her gut-feelings and not gone to the door. At that point, she probably wished that she were taking part in the family vacation.
I wonder why the man was covered with blood and what his motives were for coming to kill her.
Of course, this is just a peek into 300 words worth of an event, and you did a great job of capturing this slice-of-life.
I've seen things, but don't think of them as ghosts but, instead, as signs and visitations.
Like the first New Year's Eve after my dad passed away, my mom and I were on our traditional drive into New Year's Day--something the three of us had done together for so many years.
We were both thinking at the same time how we missed having him with us when this red dot of light began dancing merrily all over the dashboard for several seconds.
In October of 1992, one of our church members passed away on Friday. There had been a wedding scheduled at the church on Saturday, and, during the rehearsal, a sparrow got into the sanctuary from somewhere and alit temporarily on the altar. Our minister remembered how George's widow had requested His Eye Is On The Sparrow for one of the songs to be played at his funeral that Monday, and he saw it as a comforting sign.
During a sermon about The Holy Spirit at a friend's church, a dove flew into the church through an open window and alit on the minister's shoulder.
While I was out driving somewhere, the favorite pop song of a friend who had passed away when we were both sixteen came on the radio--and I suddenly was looking at an amazing sunset.
Mike had been an artist, and my dad had once said that God would probably let him help to paint the sunsets some of the time.
Sometime after that, the song came on the radio again--and, not only was the sunset a knockout, but, also, I passed by some storage sheds (located close to Indianapolis) called Flat Rock Storage.
Mike had drowned in the Flat Rock River in the Shelbyville area on May 31, 1969.
This is a wonderful idea, and I hope you get lots of people interested. I'm writing a public review of it and have just presented an awardicon to it, as well as sharing three links and two bitems that you might find helpful.
Give your pastor my best, as he's doing something very meaningful that will touch a lot of people's lives in positive ways!
This is great flash-fiction. It can either be kept as flash-fiction or it can serve as an introduction to a longer story or novel.
The first part of it is so intense while the last part of it is so simple.
This, to me, symbolizes how simple it can be to get help for a problem--whether an emotional one or a practical one (e.g. getting someone to assist you in some task)--by merely asking.
It just shows that to be erotic doesn't have to mean to be crude!
I somehow imagine your star being one that is all glittery around the edges and has a sweet smile on its face, and you and your lover look like that sweet "LVE IS" couple from back in the sixties and seventies.
Let me go see if I can find some kind of website for them. brb...
I'm one of those believers, but I also believe that what you've written is very honest and worthwhile. Let me suggest a really good book that will be a breath of fresh air after the way that you were introduced to the concept of God.
THINK AGAIN A Response to Fundamentalism's Claim on Christianity by Dr. Gary Cox
Your essay was most enjoyable to read, and I really like your ideas. I believe that you see God more clearly than many who call themselves believers, and I'd like to paste in a poem (by another writer, but giving him full credit) that I was reminded of while reading this.
You will find the poem by scrolling down past my closing and signature.
Abou Ben Adhem (may his tribe increase!)
Awoke one night from a deep dream of peace,
And saw, within the moonlight of his room,
Making it rich, and like a lily in bloom,
An angel writing in a book of gold:-
Exceeding peace had made Ben Adhem bold,
And to the presence in the room he said,
'What writest thou?' - The vision raised its head,
And with a look made of all sweet accord,
Answered 'The names of those who love the Lord.'
'And is mine one?' said Abou. 'Nay, not so,'
Replied the angel. Abou spoke more low,
But cheerly still; and said 'I pray thee then,
Write me as one that loves his fellow-men.'
The angel wrote, and vanished. The next night
It came again with a great wakening light,
And showed the names who love of God had blessed,
And lo! Ben Adhem's name led all the rest.
I wonder if there's something in the water here that makes writers and others kinds of artists, because there certainly are plenty of them.
A couple of good friends (a brother and sister) are witty, and the sister is crafty (and they also have two other witty sisters), but they aren't writers. However, one of their ancestors (James Whitcomb Riley) certainly was! Of course, we have Mellencamp and The Wright Brothers, and a man whom I've known since he was seven or eight years old drums for them at times and now has his own band. His name's Dane Clark. His mom is a retired special ed teacher, and I used to help out in her class when I was in high school. Here's a story I wrote about those special times:
And there are others from our state, too, as you likely know.
Let's compare Indiana backgrounds when we both have time. For starters, I was born and raised in Anderson, graduated from Pendleton Heights H.S., graduated from University Of Indianapolis back when it was still called Indiana Central University (Class of 1976) and took some graduate studies at Ball State.
Better go ahead and send this, as computers have a way of becoming unpredictable and evaporating what's there! AAARRRRRRRGH!
I'm making this a public review to introduce everybody else to you!
This is a really beautiful tribute to your sister! Does she write here, too? I hope that she will get to read this, because I know that it will really move her!
This poem is going to haunt me for a very long time, and I'm already in the process of sharing it with others. I've taken a quick look at your port and see that you also have lots of other great things to be reading, so I'm glad that you've decided to make yourself at home here and share your wisdom.
Already, I've shared you outside of this site, and you can find what I've said by going here:
The words of this poem can be anything from someone looking in the mirror and talking to herself as she views herself in the present and realizes that she has become exactly what she had hoped to become since many years ago to a great pick-up line for a guy to use when picking up a girl.
I've watched short dramas that tell a story about someone encountering either a past or future incarnation of themselves at some time when he/she needs some words of wisdom from that person--or, sometimes, they encounter someone (such as a future child or grandchild) who hasn't been born yet and will never be born unless the person who encounters this person-from-the-future changes directions such as deciding not to have an abortion or deciding not to commit suicide. Still other times, there have been stories about someone encountering a child who will grow up to be that person's parent, teacher, etc. and will come to a greater understanding of what has made that person the person she/he is today.
I like this subtile, verbal catfight! Makes me think back to high school days when there was this one girl, and we always ended up picking on each other.
Because I was chubby, she, one day, made this sign language of a fat person and pointed to me. So, I ran my hands over my C-cup body to sign a straight-up-and-down figure and then pointed to her!
I really love this story! It's so sweet! Have you ever seen the movie called Jack Frost where the boy's father comes back as a snowman? There was some kind of sequel made to it (or something having the same name), but I've never seen it, and I hear that it was awful. But this movie was good, and your story makes me think so much of it. I hope that you'll get the chance to watch it.
It looks as if this story is chugging right along. I hope that your other story will pick up as well. Both of them are great stories, and I've enjoyed exploring both of them. Will be back again and again looking to see what's been added in the future.
I believe that the very worst part of his condition is how it puts a damper on his ability to trust--which, in turn, causes his other problems.
But you tell him that I said he is amazing.
Speaking of which, so is this personal account!
What you have written is the best account of A.S. that I've ever come across in my entire life and will be a tough act for others to follow--even though others with their own experiences SHOULD follow, as people need all of the information they can get about those things that make others seem "different."
There should be more acceptance of others and less finger-pointing, imo.
I'm going to give you a Jesus number of GPs for now, but be expecting an awardicon just as soon as I can make one up!
This is such a sad story--so sad that nobody sensed how troubled this young man was during any time in his life in time to save his life from going in this direction.
You tell this story in a matter-of-fact way, and, in every word of it, I can feel this person's defeatist attitude.
He blames nobody and takes responsibility for everything--which shows that, if nothing else, he has at least an ember of character.
As I read this, I think of this question:
Is there a little boy out there (or a little girl) who seems to simply be existing with very little motivation? What can you do? Could you, perhaps, study this child to find out his/her potential and try to lovingly steer him/her in this direction and make it fun/interesting for him/her?
What had this young man's parents done wrong?
In so many ways, not a thing.
They were a Christian family and one with a high ethic of work and responsibility.
But I wonder if things would have turned out differently had they done things with their kids on the spur of the moment "just because."
Things such as having an impromptu picnic--or, perhaps, simply taken the time to tell their kids how much they were loved more often.
On one level, it seemed as if they were a close-knit family doing everything together--yet, it also seems as if the parents were more distant than they should have been with their children.
I personally think that it's more important to be a good hugger than a rigid taskmaster when it comes to raising kids.
It was a sad picture of this father with tears in his eyes asking what he and his wife had done wrong over the year.
For one thing, the father should have actually apologized to the son for hitting him in the jaw for coming home drunk.
At least, he and his wife were there for their son each day once they realized how great his problems were--but, by then, it was too late.
Very sad story...and it didn't really have to go in this direction if only some people had taken more notice years earlier.
This is the final one of your poems that you have displayed, and I believe that it's my very favorite one of all of them.
You need to put an apostrophe where you've said My hearts one sigh. It should read My heart's one sigh.
Other than that, don't change it!
If it were a piece of prose, I would want you to use more punctuation--and I generally do, myself, when writing something along these lines--but poetic license leaves that up to you.
You can look at it again and decide if you want to add the punctuation. My opinion? I think that a little more punctuation would make it flow better in places, but the final decision is up to you.
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