Last night was my very first concert in the orchestra, which I joined last August. I'll try to tell you what happened without boring you with too many details. ;-)
Dressed in a floor length black skirt, white blouse, and black shoes that hurt my feet, I walked up to the performing arts center with my violin case in my right hand and my music folder in the other. I was able to find the room in which I was supposed to be fairly easily... but not without worrying beforehand that I wouldn't find the right place in time. But God is so faithful, isn't He? Almost as soon as I had walked in the PAC, a violinist who had been in the orchestra last year showed me where to go. I had no need to worry.
Sometime after I got my violin tuned and ready, we went through our songs one last time before the final performance. I was slightly flustered, but after knocking my shoulder rest off my instrument and struggling to get my music in order with one hand, things went pretty smoothly. :-) Once we finished rehearsing, we went to another room and waited for when we were to perform. After several minutes of waiting talking with friends, we were summoned on stage.
I took my seat - first violin section, fourth row - and after a few moments, watched the conductor come on stage and raise his baton for us to ready our instruments. Once he saw we were all ready, he gave us the cue to begin playing. Despite my nervousness, I was able to play the songs well. I think it was one of the best times I've played them, in fact! How faithful God is!
After we had finished our performance and put our instruments away, we crept into the auditorium to watch another, more advanced orchestra play. Their music was so beautiful! It was neat to be able to watch an orchestra play after I had been a part of one. Once they had played a few songs, a large choir came out and sang a medley of Christmas carols while the orchestra played. That was one of the highlights of the whole night, I think. The sounds in that auditorium were beyond beautiful. I don't think words can describe how lovely it all was. I was tremendously blessed by songs such as "God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen" and "O Come, All Ye Faithful" which were played and sung with the utmost skill and excellence.
As I've attended rehearsals week after week, it struck me how similar an orchestra is to the body of Christ. Both have a conductor to set the pace and correct us when we're wrong. We can either follow or ignore him. If we choose to go our own way, things will fall apart. You won't be in sync with the rest of the orchestra, and you'll end up looking really foolish in the end. But if you follow the conductor and put into practice the things he tells you, everything will work out well.
Secondly, both have a body with many different gifts and talents. Each person is unique in their talents and abilities, even as each instrument is different. Yet if we work together to follow the Conductor, the result will be beautiful. When I practice with the whole orchestra, I find out things that I've been doing wrong in my practicing at home, which motivates me to practice harder so I can sound better than ever. Sometimes we discover faults about ourselves when we're around other people. But when we repent and obey God, things work out and you become a better person.
Lastly, both have an instruction booklet - sheet music, and the Bible! If we don't study it and do what it says, we won't get very far.
I'm sure there are other analogies, but those are the ones I thought of. :-)
(Wow, this blog post is way longer than I expected it to be. Hope I didn't bore you!)
One last thing before I finish: I pray that none of us will be so caught up in the Christmas rush that we forget the whole meaning behind it all. Because God loved us, He gave His only Son for us while we were still sinners so that any and all who believe on Him will not perish but have everlasting life. (see John 3:16 and Romans 5:8). Let us never think lightly of the great love of God - that He would send the world His own Son Jesus to die the horrible death on the cross. May you all have a very blessed Christmas!
V4C
Tuesday, December 9, 2008
Friday, November 21, 2008
Infidel by Ted Dekker
It's the 21st, time for the Teen FIRST blog tour!(Join our alliance! Click the button!) Every 21st, we will feature an author and his/her latest Teen fiction book's FIRST chapter!
and his book:
Thomas Nelson (November 11, 2008)
ABOUT THE AUTHOR:
Ted is the son of missionaries John and Helen Dekker, whose incredible story of life among headhunters in Indonesia has been told in several books. Surrounded by the vivid colors of the jungle and a myriad of cultures, each steeped in their own interpretation of life and faith, Dekker received a first-class education on human nature and behavior. This, he believes, is the foundation of his writing.After graduating from a multi-cultural high school, he took up permanent residence in the United States to study Religion and Philosophy. After earning his Bachelor's Degree, Dekker entered the corporate world in management for a large healthcare company in California. Dekker was quickly recognized as a talent in the field of marketing and was soon promoted to Director of Marketing. This experience gave him a background which enabled him to eventually form his own company and steadily climb the corporate ladder.
Since 1997, Dekker has written full-time. He states that each time he writes, he finds his understanding of life and love just a little clearer and his expression of that understanding a little more vivid. To see a complete list of Dekker's work, visit The Works section of TedDekker.com.
Here are some of his latest titles:
Chosen (The Lost Books, Book 1) (The Books of History Chronicles)
Adam
Black: The Birth of Evil (The Circle Trilogy Graphic Novels, Book 1)
Saint
Product DetailsList Price:$15.99
Reading level: Young Adult
Paperback: 136 pages
Publisher: Thomas Nelson (November 11, 2008)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 1595546049
ISBN-13: 978-1595546043
AND NOW...THE FIRST TWO PAGES:
(Click Pictures to Zoom!)
Personal Review:
When I realized this was a graphic novel, I was somewhat hesitant to read it. From the cover, it didn't really look like the kind of book I'd like to read. But as soon as I read the first page, it was hard to put it down! All in all I read the whole book in about an hour. As I started to think about how short the book was, I realized how much was actually packed into it. Not only was the plot interesting and well thought out, but it had several spiritual parallels in it. As I went along with Johnis on the quest to find his mother, I was touched at how passionate he was about rescuing her. Those who venture to read this book will walk away thinking about the deeper meanings woven into the book. I recommend this book to those who enjoy Lord of the Rings type fantasy.
Wednesday, November 5, 2008
Prayer
Prayer is perhaps the most effective tool we have. James 5:16 says, "...The prayer of a righteous man is powerful and effective." (NIV) I encourage you to take time out of your schedule each day to pray for our country. Now that Obama has been elected, we need to pray more than ever for it.
First of all we should pray for Obama, that he would find God and know and obey His Word. Nothing is impossible for God. The most wicked king in Israel eventually repented and got right with God! I pray that Obama would not wait nearly as long as Manassah did.
Second, we need to pray for our current president, Bush, that in these last months as president he would seek God and obey His commands.
Third, for revival in the US. That many many people would come to know Jesus and those who are lukewarm would rededicate their lives to Him. That morality would rise in our country.
Fourth, for whatever God directs you to pray for. The above is only a guideline of what to pray for. You are by no means restricted to only the aforementioned list. Let God direct your prayers.
Finally, do not despair. The Lord is still King! (Ps 97:1) If we trust in God and follow Him, He will direct our steps. He will take care of us. Remember, nothing surprises God.
In Christ,
V4C
First of all we should pray for Obama, that he would find God and know and obey His Word. Nothing is impossible for God. The most wicked king in Israel eventually repented and got right with God! I pray that Obama would not wait nearly as long as Manassah did.
Second, we need to pray for our current president, Bush, that in these last months as president he would seek God and obey His commands.
Third, for revival in the US. That many many people would come to know Jesus and those who are lukewarm would rededicate their lives to Him. That morality would rise in our country.
Fourth, for whatever God directs you to pray for. The above is only a guideline of what to pray for. You are by no means restricted to only the aforementioned list. Let God direct your prayers.
Finally, do not despair. The Lord is still King! (Ps 97:1) If we trust in God and follow Him, He will direct our steps. He will take care of us. Remember, nothing surprises God.
In Christ,
V4C
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
The Ripple Effect by Paul McCusker
It's the 21st, time for the Teen FIRST blog tour!(Join our alliance! Click the button!) Every 21st, we will feature an author and his/her latest Teen fiction book's FIRST chapter!
and his book:
Link to buy it on Amazon
Zondervan (October 1, 2008)
ABOUT THE AUTHOR:
Paul McCusker is the author of The Mill House, Epiphany, The Faded Flower and several Adventures in Odyssey programs. Winner of the Peabody Award for his radio drama on the life of Dietrich Bonhoeffer for Focus on the Family, he lives in Colorado Springs with his wife and two children. Product Details
List Price: $9.99
Reading level: Young Adult
Paperback: 224 pages
Publisher: Zondervan (October 1, 2008)
Language: English
ISBN-10: 0310714362
ISBN-13: 978-0310714361
AND NOW...THE FIRST CHAPTER:
“I’m running away,” Elizabeth announced defiantly. She chomped a french fry in half.
Jeff looked up at her. He’d been absentmindedly swirling his straw in his malted milkshake while she complained about her parents, which she had been doing for the past half hour. “You’re what?”
“You weren’t listening, were you?”
“I was too.”
“Then what did I say?” Elizabeth tucked a loose strand of her long brown hair behind her ear so it wouldn’t fall into the puddle of ketchup next to her fries.
“You were complaining about how your mom and dad drive you crazy because your dad embarrassed you last night while you and Melissa Morgan were doing your history homework. And your dad lectured you for twenty minutes about . . . about . . .” He was stumped.
“Chris-tian symbolism in the King Arthur legends,” Elizabeth said.
“Yeah, except that you and Melissa were supposed to be studying the . . . um — ”
“French Revolution.”
“Right, and Melissa finally made up an excuse to go home, and you were embarrassed and mad at your dad — ”
“As usual,” she said and savaged another french fry.
Jeff gave a sigh of relief. Elizabeth’s pop quizzes were a lot tougher than anything they gave him at school. But it was hard for him to listen when she griped about her parents. Not having any parents of his own, Jeff didn’t connect when Elizabeth went on and on about hers.
“Then what did I say?” she asked.
He was mid-suck on his straw and nearly blew the contents back into the glass. “Huh?”
“What did I say after that?”
“You said . . . uh . . .” He coughed, then glanced around the Fawlt Line Diner, hoping for inspiration or a way to change the subject. His eye was dazzled by the endless chrome, beveled mirrors, worn red upholstery, and checkered floor tiles. And it boasted Alice Dempsey, the world’s oldest living waitress, dressed in her paper cap and red-striped uniform with white apron.
She had seen Jeff look up and now hustled over to their booth. She arrived smelling like burnt hamburgers and chewed her gum loudly. “You kids want anything else?”
Rescued, Jeff thought. “No, thank you,” he said.
She cracked an internal bubble on her gum and dropped the check on the edge of the table. “See you tomorrow,” Alice said.
“No, you won’t,” Elizabeth said under her breath. “I won’t be here.”
As she walked off, Alice shot a curious look back at Elizabeth. She was old, but she wasn’t deaf.
“Take it easy,” Jeff said to Elizabeth.
“I’m going to run away,” she said, heavy rebuke in her tone. “If you’d been listening — ”
“Aw, c’mon, Bits — ” Jeff began. He’d called her “Bits” for as long as either of them could remember, all the way back to first grade. “It’s not that bad.”
“You try living with my mom and dad, and tell me it’s not that bad.”
“I know your folks,” Jeff said. “They’re a little quirky, that’s all.”
“Quirky! They’re just plain weird. They’re clueless about life in the real world. Did you know that my dad went to church last Sunday with his shirt on inside out?”
“It happens.”
“And wearing his bedroom slippers?”
Jeff smiled. Yeah, that’s Alan Forde, all right, he thought.
“Don’t you dare smile,” Elizabeth threatened, pointing a french fry at him. “It’s not funny. His slippers are grass stained. Do you know why?”
“Because he does his gardening in his bedroom slippers.”
Elizabeth threw up her hands. “That’s right! He doesn’t care. He doesn’t care how he looks, what -people think of him, or anything! And my mom doesn’t even have the decency to be embarrassed for him. She thinks he’s adorable! They’re weird.”
“They’re just . . . themselves. They’re — ”
Elizabeth threw herself against the back of the red vinyl bench and groaned. “You don’t understand.”
“Sure I do!” Jeff said. “Your parents are no worse than Malcolm.” Malcolm Dubbs was Jeff’s father’s cousin, on the English side of the family, and had been Jeff’s guardian since his parents had died five years ago in a plane crash. As the last adult of the Dubbs family line, he came from England to take over the family fortune and estate. “He’s quirky.”
“But that’s different. Malcolm is nice and sensitive and has that wonderful English accent,” Elizabeth said, nearly swooning. Jeff’s cousin was a heartthrob among some of the girls.
“Don’t get yourself all worked up,” Jeff said.
“My parents just go on and on about things I don’t care about,” she continued. “And if I hear the life-can’t-be-taken-too-seriously-because-it’s-just-a-small-part-of-a-bigger-picture lecture one more time, I’ll go out of my mind.”
Again Jeff restrained his smile. He knew that lecture well. Except his cousin Malcolm summarized the same idea in the phrase “the eternal perspective.” All it meant was that there was a lot more to life than what we can see or experience with our senses. This world is a temporary stop on a journey to a truer, more real reality, he’d say — an eternal reality. “Look, your parents see things differently from most -people. That’s all,” Jeff said, determined not to turn this gripe session into an Olympic event.
“They’re from another planet,” Elizabeth said. “Sometimes I think this whole town is. Haven’t you figured it out yet?”
“I like Fawlt Line,” Jeff said softly, afraid Elizabeth’s complaints might offend some of the other regulars at the diner.
“Everybody’s so . . . so oblivious! Nobody even seems to notice how strange this place is.”
Jeff shrugged. “It’s just a town, Bits. Every town has its quirks.”
“Is that your word of the day?” Elizabeth snapped. “These aren’t just quirks, Jeffrey.”
Jeff rolled his eyes. When she resorted to calling him Jeffrey, there was no reasoning with her. He rubbed the side of his face and absentmindedly pushed his fingers through his wavy black hair.
“What about Helen?” Elizabeth challenged him.
“Which Helen? You mean the volunteer at the information booth in the mall? That Helen?”
“I mean Helen the volunteer at the information booth in the mall who thinks she’s psychic. That’s who I mean.” Elizabeth leaned over the Formica tabletop. Jeff moved her plate of fries and ketchup to one side. “She won’t let you speak until she guesses what you’re going to ask. And she’s never right!”
Jeff shrugged.
“Our only life insurance agent has been dead for six years.”
“Yeah, but — ”
“And there’s Walter Keenan. He’s a professional proofreader for park bench ads! He wanders around, making -people move out of the way so he can do his job.” Her voice was a shrill whisper.
“Ben Hearn only pays him to do that because he feels sorry for him. You know old Walter hasn’t been the same since that shaving accident.”
“But I heard he just got a job doing the same thing at a tattoo parlor!”
“I’m sure tattooists want to make sure their spelling is correct.”
Elizabeth groaned and shook her head. “It’s like Mayberry trapped in the Twilight Zone. I thought you’d understand. I thought you knew how nuts this town is.” Elizabeth locked her gaze onto Jeff’s.
He gazed back at her and, suddenly, the image of her large brown eyes, the faint freckles on her upturned nose, her full lips, made him want to kiss her. He wasn’t sure why — they’d been friends for so long that she’d probably laugh at him if he ever actually did it — but the urge was still there.
“It’s not such a bad place,” he managed to say.
“I’ve had enough of this town,” she said. “Of my parents. Of all the weirdness. I’m fifteen years old and I wanna be a normal kid with normal problems. Are you coming with me or not?”
Jeff cocked an eyebrow. “To where?”
“To wherever I run away to,” she replied. “I’m serious about this, Jeff. I’m getting all my money together and going somewhere normal. We can take your Volkswagen and — ”
“Listen, Bits,” Jeff interrupted, “I know how you feel. But we can’t just run away. Where would we go? What would we do?”
“And who are you all of a sudden: Mr. Responsibility? You never know where you’re going or what you’re doing. You’re our very own Huck Finn.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“Not according to Mr. Vidler.”
“Mr. Vidler said that?” Jeff asked defensively, wondering why their English teacher would be talking about him to Elizabeth.
“He says it’s because you don’t have parents, and Malcolm doesn’t care what you do.”
Jeff grunted. He didn’t like the idea of Mr. Vidler discussing him like that. And Malcolm certainly cared a great deal about what he did.
Elizabeth continued. “So why should you care where we go or what we do? Let’s just get out of here.”
“But, Bits, it’s stupid and — ”
“No! I’m not listening to you,” Elizabeth shouted and hit the tabletop with the palms of her hands. Silence washed over the diner like a wave as everyone turned to look.
“Keep it down, will you?” Jeff whispered fiercely.
“Either you go with me, or stay here and rot in this town. It’s up to you.”
Jeff looked away. It was unusual for them to argue. And when they did, it was usually Jeff who gave in. Like now. “I don’t know,” he said quietly.
Elizabeth also softened her tone. “If you’re going, then meet me at the Old Saw Mill by the edge of the river tonight at ten.” She paused, then added, “I’m going whether you come with me or not.”
Jeff looked up at her. He’d been absentmindedly swirling his straw in his malted milkshake while she complained about her parents, which she had been doing for the past half hour. “You’re what?”
“You weren’t listening, were you?”
“I was too.”
“Then what did I say?” Elizabeth tucked a loose strand of her long brown hair behind her ear so it wouldn’t fall into the puddle of ketchup next to her fries.
“You were complaining about how your mom and dad drive you crazy because your dad embarrassed you last night while you and Melissa Morgan were doing your history homework. And your dad lectured you for twenty minutes about . . . about . . .” He was stumped.
“Chris-tian symbolism in the King Arthur legends,” Elizabeth said.
“Yeah, except that you and Melissa were supposed to be studying the . . . um — ”
“French Revolution.”
“Right, and Melissa finally made up an excuse to go home, and you were embarrassed and mad at your dad — ”
“As usual,” she said and savaged another french fry.
Jeff gave a sigh of relief. Elizabeth’s pop quizzes were a lot tougher than anything they gave him at school. But it was hard for him to listen when she griped about her parents. Not having any parents of his own, Jeff didn’t connect when Elizabeth went on and on about hers.
“Then what did I say?” she asked.
He was mid-suck on his straw and nearly blew the contents back into the glass. “Huh?”
“What did I say after that?”
“You said . . . uh . . .” He coughed, then glanced around the Fawlt Line Diner, hoping for inspiration or a way to change the subject. His eye was dazzled by the endless chrome, beveled mirrors, worn red upholstery, and checkered floor tiles. And it boasted Alice Dempsey, the world’s oldest living waitress, dressed in her paper cap and red-striped uniform with white apron.
She had seen Jeff look up and now hustled over to their booth. She arrived smelling like burnt hamburgers and chewed her gum loudly. “You kids want anything else?”
Rescued, Jeff thought. “No, thank you,” he said.
She cracked an internal bubble on her gum and dropped the check on the edge of the table. “See you tomorrow,” Alice said.
“No, you won’t,” Elizabeth said under her breath. “I won’t be here.”
As she walked off, Alice shot a curious look back at Elizabeth. She was old, but she wasn’t deaf.
“Take it easy,” Jeff said to Elizabeth.
“I’m going to run away,” she said, heavy rebuke in her tone. “If you’d been listening — ”
“Aw, c’mon, Bits — ” Jeff began. He’d called her “Bits” for as long as either of them could remember, all the way back to first grade. “It’s not that bad.”
“You try living with my mom and dad, and tell me it’s not that bad.”
“I know your folks,” Jeff said. “They’re a little quirky, that’s all.”
“Quirky! They’re just plain weird. They’re clueless about life in the real world. Did you know that my dad went to church last Sunday with his shirt on inside out?”
“It happens.”
“And wearing his bedroom slippers?”
Jeff smiled. Yeah, that’s Alan Forde, all right, he thought.
“Don’t you dare smile,” Elizabeth threatened, pointing a french fry at him. “It’s not funny. His slippers are grass stained. Do you know why?”
“Because he does his gardening in his bedroom slippers.”
Elizabeth threw up her hands. “That’s right! He doesn’t care. He doesn’t care how he looks, what -people think of him, or anything! And my mom doesn’t even have the decency to be embarrassed for him. She thinks he’s adorable! They’re weird.”
“They’re just . . . themselves. They’re — ”
Elizabeth threw herself against the back of the red vinyl bench and groaned. “You don’t understand.”
“Sure I do!” Jeff said. “Your parents are no worse than Malcolm.” Malcolm Dubbs was Jeff’s father’s cousin, on the English side of the family, and had been Jeff’s guardian since his parents had died five years ago in a plane crash. As the last adult of the Dubbs family line, he came from England to take over the family fortune and estate. “He’s quirky.”
“But that’s different. Malcolm is nice and sensitive and has that wonderful English accent,” Elizabeth said, nearly swooning. Jeff’s cousin was a heartthrob among some of the girls.
“Don’t get yourself all worked up,” Jeff said.
“My parents just go on and on about things I don’t care about,” she continued. “And if I hear the life-can’t-be-taken-too-seriously-because-it’s-just-a-small-part-of-a-bigger-picture lecture one more time, I’ll go out of my mind.”
Again Jeff restrained his smile. He knew that lecture well. Except his cousin Malcolm summarized the same idea in the phrase “the eternal perspective.” All it meant was that there was a lot more to life than what we can see or experience with our senses. This world is a temporary stop on a journey to a truer, more real reality, he’d say — an eternal reality. “Look, your parents see things differently from most -people. That’s all,” Jeff said, determined not to turn this gripe session into an Olympic event.
“They’re from another planet,” Elizabeth said. “Sometimes I think this whole town is. Haven’t you figured it out yet?”
“I like Fawlt Line,” Jeff said softly, afraid Elizabeth’s complaints might offend some of the other regulars at the diner.
“Everybody’s so . . . so oblivious! Nobody even seems to notice how strange this place is.”
Jeff shrugged. “It’s just a town, Bits. Every town has its quirks.”
“Is that your word of the day?” Elizabeth snapped. “These aren’t just quirks, Jeffrey.”
Jeff rolled his eyes. When she resorted to calling him Jeffrey, there was no reasoning with her. He rubbed the side of his face and absentmindedly pushed his fingers through his wavy black hair.
“What about Helen?” Elizabeth challenged him.
“Which Helen? You mean the volunteer at the information booth in the mall? That Helen?”
“I mean Helen the volunteer at the information booth in the mall who thinks she’s psychic. That’s who I mean.” Elizabeth leaned over the Formica tabletop. Jeff moved her plate of fries and ketchup to one side. “She won’t let you speak until she guesses what you’re going to ask. And she’s never right!”
Jeff shrugged.
“Our only life insurance agent has been dead for six years.”
“Yeah, but — ”
“And there’s Walter Keenan. He’s a professional proofreader for park bench ads! He wanders around, making -people move out of the way so he can do his job.” Her voice was a shrill whisper.
“Ben Hearn only pays him to do that because he feels sorry for him. You know old Walter hasn’t been the same since that shaving accident.”
“But I heard he just got a job doing the same thing at a tattoo parlor!”
“I’m sure tattooists want to make sure their spelling is correct.”
Elizabeth groaned and shook her head. “It’s like Mayberry trapped in the Twilight Zone. I thought you’d understand. I thought you knew how nuts this town is.” Elizabeth locked her gaze onto Jeff’s.
He gazed back at her and, suddenly, the image of her large brown eyes, the faint freckles on her upturned nose, her full lips, made him want to kiss her. He wasn’t sure why — they’d been friends for so long that she’d probably laugh at him if he ever actually did it — but the urge was still there.
“It’s not such a bad place,” he managed to say.
“I’ve had enough of this town,” she said. “Of my parents. Of all the weirdness. I’m fifteen years old and I wanna be a normal kid with normal problems. Are you coming with me or not?”
Jeff cocked an eyebrow. “To where?”
“To wherever I run away to,” she replied. “I’m serious about this, Jeff. I’m getting all my money together and going somewhere normal. We can take your Volkswagen and — ”
“Listen, Bits,” Jeff interrupted, “I know how you feel. But we can’t just run away. Where would we go? What would we do?”
“And who are you all of a sudden: Mr. Responsibility? You never know where you’re going or what you’re doing. You’re our very own Huck Finn.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“Not according to Mr. Vidler.”
“Mr. Vidler said that?” Jeff asked defensively, wondering why their English teacher would be talking about him to Elizabeth.
“He says it’s because you don’t have parents, and Malcolm doesn’t care what you do.”
Jeff grunted. He didn’t like the idea of Mr. Vidler discussing him like that. And Malcolm certainly cared a great deal about what he did.
Elizabeth continued. “So why should you care where we go or what we do? Let’s just get out of here.”
“But, Bits, it’s stupid and — ”
“No! I’m not listening to you,” Elizabeth shouted and hit the tabletop with the palms of her hands. Silence washed over the diner like a wave as everyone turned to look.
“Keep it down, will you?” Jeff whispered fiercely.
“Either you go with me, or stay here and rot in this town. It’s up to you.”
Jeff looked away. It was unusual for them to argue. And when they did, it was usually Jeff who gave in. Like now. “I don’t know,” he said quietly.
Elizabeth also softened her tone. “If you’re going, then meet me at the Old Saw Mill by the edge of the river tonight at ten.” She paused, then added, “I’m going whether you come with me or not.”
Personal Review:
When I first opened the book, I was prepared only to read a few pages and then go to bed. But after the first page, I couldn't stop reading! Paul McCusker filled every page with suspense, causing me to constantly wonder what will happen next. As Elizabeth slides into another time dimension, she encounters problem upon problem, wondering who she can trust and what percentage of the things she's been told are true. However, there were a few things I didn't really like. For instance, boyfriend/girlfriend relationships played a fairly large part in the plot - a subject which I am somewhat hesitant to read. And there was the practice of hypnosis, which made me uncomfortable. Despite that, I thoroughly enjoyed the book and can't wait to read the next one!
Tuesday, October 7, 2008
Seasons
Don't you just love Autumn? It was in the 60's today! There's something about a canopy of gray clouds stretching across the sky and cooler than usual temperatures that inspires me. I've painted and tossed around ideas for writing more in the last couple of weeks than I have in the last couple of months.
Don't we serve an awesome God? He made the seasons for our enjoyment! I myself get all excited when a new season begins. When hot, sweaty summer gives way to brisk, colorful autumn. When the trees lose all their leaves, I get excited 'cause it means winter! And winter means snow (most of the time), and Christmas! And when winter melts into spring and warmth and life, I feel like jumping for joy!
In case you're wondering, yes, I do have a point in all this. God takes delight in seeing His children happy. Every time someone takes pleasure in His creation, He smiles! How wonderful it is that God cared enough to give us four different seasons to enjoy, even when we might fail to notice and appreciate them. I thank our God for caring so much for us that He sends little blessings like this. What about you? Have you thanked Him for the seasons yet?
Don't we serve an awesome God? He made the seasons for our enjoyment! I myself get all excited when a new season begins. When hot, sweaty summer gives way to brisk, colorful autumn. When the trees lose all their leaves, I get excited 'cause it means winter! And winter means snow (most of the time), and Christmas! And when winter melts into spring and warmth and life, I feel like jumping for joy!
In case you're wondering, yes, I do have a point in all this. God takes delight in seeing His children happy. Every time someone takes pleasure in His creation, He smiles! How wonderful it is that God cared enough to give us four different seasons to enjoy, even when we might fail to notice and appreciate them. I thank our God for caring so much for us that He sends little blessings like this. What about you? Have you thanked Him for the seasons yet?
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