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Words as Weapons, Sharper Than Knives

(Use
Kiddie Gloves --
He
can't handle
too much.)

I hate being weak because
those whom I've trusted
in the past
have walked
all over me
when
I've trusted them
("So-called" friends.)

I don't like
being ill and
expected
to perform
up to par.
(Can't afford it.)

(What
have you been doing
with your life,
you bumbling idiot?)

Harsh
words

Mean
words

Hurting
words

Words
from myself
To myself

Words
To cut down
not to build up

Words
of frustration
and anger

Self-inflicted
words

Words
that kill
the spirit

Sin and Punishment

God doesn't want us to sin
He listens to us attentively
God is upset when we treat sin
(in ourselves and others)
lightly

God refines and tests us

Boast about God:

O Lord God Almighty
Great are your deeds
Awesome in power
Grand in splendor
Your name is to be praised
All through the day and
All through the night

I rejoice in knowing you, my Abba
My cup of blessing overflows
You've been so merciful
You are holy, righteous,
A God to be feared
Let me never take you for granted.

Thanks for everything

based on a bible study I had on Jeremiah 8-9 on August 2001

Now That's Just Weird

Browsing through the referrer links, I found out that this blog came up in the search results for

• mommys who pull kids pants down

Of course, by listing that here, I'm probably increasing the chances that it will come up again.

Who are you blogging for?

This question has come up around the blogging world lately, and it's one I have to ask myself often. Am I blogging to get the attention of several people, so that they will visit my site and maybe link back? Am I eager for someone 'important' in the blogging world to comment about something I've written?

I have purposely refrained from adding comments to my "Letters to God" blog because my intent is to focus on writing to God, not to get some kind of reaction from someone who might read it. I have, however, recently, noticed myself checking my other blogs too often to see whether someone has noticed something I've written.

I need to remind myself the original reason why I started blogging: for myself. Miles Davis said, "An artist's first responsibility is to himself." And it was Toni Morrison who said

There's a difference between writing for a living and writing for a life. If you write for a living, you make enormous compromises, and you might not even be able to uncompromise yourself. If you write for life, you'll work hard; you'll do what's honest, not what pays.

I pray that I keep these thoughts in mind as I write.

The Rumor Mill

Just got the link.

A Relentless Passion

Three dollars rest on the table, each folded in half. The finished lunch dishes, on the light green tray have been pushed to the other side of the table to make room to read and write. An opened quotation notebook sits nearby, the ink drying -- recent treasures gleaned from the wisdom of others. His Men's Devotional Bible, with many accidentally dog-eared pages from years of rough handling, sits to his right. The cover would no longer close all the way. A 5-by-7 index card lays just inside the front cover. It's this index card that maintains his present focus, for it describes thoughts written down at a turning point in his life:

He grew up with hurts, just like anyone else, and effects of them continued with him throughout his college years and into the early years of his marriage. Then, some years after their first daughter was born, they attended some foster parent training. That's when the bubble burst. All the gushy, sappy feelings for wanting to foster-to-adopt in the first place were, in a way, violated by the realities of abuse and neglect.

As he listened intently to the descriptions, the definitions of abuse and neglect, and the illustrative examples, he felt the pain in the core of his heart begin to rise. Damaged emotions, never allowed to heal, were making their way back into his consciousness. He didn't want to feel the pain. He tried to deny that this was going on. He wanted to be able to forgive, forget and move on.

But he couldn't. He found a blank 5-by-7 index card and quickly scribbled his thoughts, his brief memories, and, especially what he knew was right -- he'd need to surrender these feelings to God.

Another, smaller 3-by-5 index card marks his current page in the Men's Devotional Bible. A few inches away rests the library book that was his current muse. He'd have to return it by next Saturday the 15th. He wasn't quite halfway through it yet. Each chapter and verse were being meditated upon. He was, after all, learning from the wisdom and experiences of others, and he was yet more inspired to become a writer.

Well he already was a writer and has been for some time. But it was the measure of success he desired, to be published, to experience the joy of knowing that others valued his work enough to pay him for it.

He is an artist and the written word his artwork. He recalls the wisdom of the late Miles Davis: "An artist's first responsibility is to himself." The words of one Benjamin Disraeli also remind him: "When I want to read a good book, I write one." And finally, the late Oscar Wilde chimes in: "I never travel without my diary. One should always have something sensational to read on the train." Whether on the train or somewhere else, the work lies within him and it will indeed soon emerge, as long as he continues to write.

Planet Relish E-zine | Meet the Editors Chat

Check out Jennifer's blog, the Tuesday, February 4, 2003, post for the link to the chat session, which will be this Friday, February 7, 2003 at 10:30 PM EST. Why not check it out? I must consider this myself.

Nulla Dies Sine Linea

Oh, that's right, you don't speak Latin. Neither do I. I'm not even sure whether that phrase is Latin. Whatever the case, I just found another snippet of good advice on how to write every day. And, since you're really interested now, 'Nulla Dies Sine Linea' means 'never a day without lines'.

So, write every day. In a handwritten or computer journal. Record your memories. Create characters; dispose of some. Keep it private or make it public. Let's all do it.

Idea Generators

There are perhaps times when one is at a loss for ideas about which to write. Jen has written some articles about this, which are well worth reading! Also, some of you may know that I am a regular contributor to the Topics Blog. Rasmus, a cool dude from Denmark, has developed a tool to help stimulate your writing senses, called WriteThis.

There are many, many reasons to write, just as there are many things about which to write.

If We Only Have Love

Broken Things

The handle of a homemade clay cup
The broken bike reflector
The torn piece of fabric
The white, small piece of a strategy game
And so many other pieces

Mistakes
Mistakes that were made
Emblems of mistakes that were made
Reminders of my own fallibility
Every time I look inside that old cigar box
My mistake box

I threw it away
I didn't want it any more
Tired of the reminders
Of the things I'd done wrong
It became more of a thorn
Inside my flesh

It outlived its purpose
Forever etched in my mind
Like a splinter
Reminding me of my fallibility

Haunted by the doubts
Anxious about how I'd done
Perfection sought
Obsessed with perfection
I would not give in that easy

Yet now I'm realizing
I don't need to be perfect
God's not interested in perfection --
Only He is anyway

God take my broken spirit
And mend me, make me new

This Afternoon Snow

The snowflakes dance and dart about
Wandering from their heavenly home
Carried by Winter's chill
To destinations unknown

Each one survives but a minute
But many together, amidst Winter's chill
Last awhile more
Painting the landscape white

Winter is better this way
More tolerable
Than with Winter's chill only
And nothing with which to paint

For this afternoon snow reminds me
How beautiful
How peaceful
How pure and white
The world can become

A Note to my Subconscious

Hi. I just wanted to say, I think you suck big time. I know that you enjoy having me be idstracted, see I can't evenr type the word distracted... bah!

Anyway, I would like to say that all my distractiveness comes from the holiday, but I think I'll just fire you, instead. So maybe you're not really my subconscious, but rather some other, mindless entity within me wanting to keep me from doing my job. Well, enough! I win, you lose. You see, I'm the boss of me. You're not the boss of me! I consciously fire you and have put up a sign in my mind that you're not allowed to hinder me from doing my work! Until I let you come back, that is.

WriteThis Reminder: Rasmus wants all who have downloaded and used it to take a survey.

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Running Out of Time

Based on an exercise generated by WriteThis - 12/16/02 9:23:35 PM

Criteria:

• Duration: 30 minutes
• Keyword: vehicle
• Main character: sad
• Setting: live television
• Special clause: end the story with the sentence: "I should have known."

Dayton, OH - “We're live at the Montgomery county courthouse, where Steve Richardson is coming out from the courtroom as we speak," Charles Moore said. "I have never heard of a sentence that strange. I wonder if we might be able to get some comments from the defendant."

Charles approached the security detail that surrounds Steve Richardson. "Excuse me, Mr. Richardson," he began. "I was wondering whether you had any comments about the trial or the verdict or the sentence the judge handed down."

"No comment," Steve replied. His eyes looked hollow and red, as though he'd been crying considerably. Well, he had been crying. I mean who wouldn't have felt the heartstrings. What pain he must be feeling right now.

Then, all of a sudden, Steve pulled a gun from one of his captors and broke free. He headed toward a news van. Charles recognized his cameraman as the driver and dashed off toward the van. Steve hopped in the passenger side and aiming the gun, he ordered, "Drive." The cameraman began to drive. Charles had just enough time to hop in the back with the assistant manager who'd taken over for the cameraman, since Dave, the cameraman, had been feeling nausea all morning.

At first Steve objected to the last-minute passengers, but then, he figured that having the company would work out better. He could at least have someone to talk to, and he could get access to the audience. The public needed to know his story, his struggle. He felt motivated, though now as a fugitive, to make sure the world knew why he was running. And having some hostages for the ride meant that he could bargain.

Charles called out to Steve from the rear of the news van, "What are you doing? Are you nuts? Why are you hijacking our news van?"

"No answers. Not yet," Steve replied. "When the time comes, I want it to be live on TV."

He heard sirens approaching the van. "Don't slow down. Drive. Fast," he ordered Dave, the cameraman, who was driving, but feeling a bit more queasy due to the added stress.

Steve let out a big sigh. He'd never hijacked a van before. He'd never broken the law like this. If he were caught, he'd wind up in bigger trouble than what he wound up in court for. He looked up in the sky. Nope. No choppers. Not yet anyway.

Charles couldn't believe it either. He'd only joined the newstaff a few months ago, mainly covering downtown businesses and boring stuff like that. He'd never have thought he'd be sitting in a hijacked van, with the best opportunity for an award-winning story presented to him like a Thanksgiving turkey. He felt the ambition, as it started surging through his veins.

Mark, the assistant cameraman, who was called in to sub for Dave at the last minute, was not a happy camper. He had been asleep next to his girlfriend when he got the phone call. Robert, the daytime substitute cameraman, was on vacation, and could he pretty please come and help out the new news reporter. He knew he should have asked for more money when he renewed his contract. Crap like this was not the reason why he took this job. Now he didn't know what to think. Here he was, trapped in this minivan with two coworkers and some maniac. He felt ticked off. He hoped that this whole thing was going to be over. Soon.

Steve looked at Dave, the nauseated driver. He felt sorry. He hadn't wanted things to work out like this. Dave started looking a little paler. "Dude," Steve said, "are you gonna hurl? Because if you do, I don't want the mess in here."

"I'll be okay," Dave replied. "I just need a little fresh air. Mind if I roll down the window?"

"Sure, pal, go ahead."

After a few minutes, Charles spoke up. "Hey, man, I know you're pissed off about something. We’ll put you on live television so you can tell your story. You just say when, and Mark over here will start rolling."

"All right, then," Steve replied. "Fire her up."

Mark reluctantly started the camera rolling, focusing first on Charles.

"We're here inside the Channel 7 news van live with Steve Richardson, who has just hijacked our van while fleeing the courthouse."

Steve heard some rumbling outside. Peering out the window, he noticed two police choppers following the van. Dave the nauseated driver vomited outside the drivers window. “Damn it,” Steve said. “I should have known.”

Blogging the Christian Internet

Neat!

The latest Internet for Christians newsletter has a section about Christian blogging. Blogs4God.com is mentioned. My weblogs

• Journey Inside My Mind,
• Letters to God,
• QuotesBlog,
• Get That Job!, and
• Streams of Consciousness

are a part of that community.

blogs4God

Definitely something to add to the 'To Do List'.

100 Words Update

My October batch is available.