C'est La Vie
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What a beautiful piece of heartache this has all turned out to be. Lord knows we've learned the hard way all about healthy apathy. And I use these words pretty loosely. There's so much more to life than words..
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Thursday, October 31, 2002
Ok, so my stitches were taken out on Saturday.. I've had the Steri-Strips on since to make sure it doesn't reopen, and it looks like it's mostly healing ok. It still itches a lot, though.
After my friend that's a nurse that was taking my stitches out left on Saturday, I went out to my car to go to work. It wouldn't start. To make a really long and boring story short and slightly less boring, my head gasket blew somehow, and my car's in the shop and I'll get it back tomorrow (if then) and it'll cost out the wazzooo. I'm borrowing a bit of money from my church, plus I have some other car repair money that my twin brother sent me earlier in the month, plus the extra savings I had from the amount of my paychecks over my bills. I'll have paid my church back by the end of November, and it'll be really nice to have a car again tomorrow. One week without nearly drove me nuts. I don't know how I managed so long without before getting this car, before which I'd only had a car for a total of 6 months ever. Of course, living on the bus line did help, which I no longer do, so that's one big difference. Today, I'm dressed as Hippie Longstockings (or what Pippie might look like if she were a hippie), with my hair sticking out and all. Nearly every single person or group of people I've seen today has asked how I got it to stay like that, though a good number figured out or guessed that it was a coat hanger before I answered. It's great fun, though. I haven't done my hair like this for long since I was in high school. My sophomore year, I used to do this randomly throughout the school year, not on special occasions. Fellow students would run across the courtyard or the school hallways to see if my hair REALLY was sticking up like that on its own. I haven't poked anyone's eye out doing this, but I did scare the toddlers I was babysitting this morning. Had a really difficult night at work last night, and am thus not looking to the retail part of the upcoming holiday season. So, faithful readers, please ALWAYS tip your waitstaff unless they're intentionally trying to be mean to you, and please ALWAYS be nice to the employees of the stores in which you're shopping, and please ALWAYS be sure to treat other shoppers/drivers/diners/etc respectfully. Don't fight over the last supergadgettoy, nomatter how badly your child wants it. Don't yell at a Target employee because the video you picked up (which was the last on the shelf) disappeared from your cart. I know things can be frustrating, but the thing about working a job in retail or food service this time of year is that one family may be taking out their frustrations on one person, their waitress, and may be nice to everyone else.. but the vast majority of the customers are also taking out their frustrations on that same waitress, which makes it one very horrible season for employees everywhere. Oy. I am really not looking forward to this. Glad to not have my income depend on people's moods anymore, though, as it did when I was a waitress. On the good side, I'm looking forward to many concerts, social gatherings, and a couple of special trips this fall and winter, and I'm quite excited about the months of November and December just to begin with. Very, very excited. Now it's off to grab some dinner right quick and go to the jr. high party, then the party at the coffeehouse. Then tomorrow I get my car back and drive to a concert which will also be a gathering of several good friends. Have a great weekend. :) (0) comments Friday, October 25, 2002
My eyebrow itches.(0) comments Thursday, October 24, 2002
This Sunday is the daylight savings' Fall Back Sunday.
I absolutely love having an extra hour of sleep. Especially since I'm working Saturday night. Yay for sleep! :) (0) comments Fall has fallen here in Virginia, now that it's not too stinkin' hot anymore. Yesterday was absolutely gorgeous, though. I sat outside reading for a while before going to work, letting the sun beat down on my sore right shoulder. Of course, the doctors told me that if I get much sun within the next nine months, I'm that much more likely to scar, but why would I wanna sacrifice sun and enjoyment for vanity? The leaves are absolutely gorgeous and quite breathtaking this year. They still have a bit of turning to do, but my campus is alive in the oranges and golds, with fiery reds every several feet to brighten up the landscape. My drive back from Charlottesville, despite the slightly distracted or perhaps too-focused thoughts on Sunday nights happenings, brought about my first moment this year of having the breath stolen from me due to the gorgeous surroundings. Getting through work last night was rough, especially with one of the managers telling me I've gotta step it up a notch when I was working the best I could, but was also fighting exhaustion (I've gotten plenty of sleep the last few nights, but yesterday and today I've still been completely drained) and pretty bad pain by the end of the night. It's a different kind of pain, though -- more of a pressure. But the ibuprofen I took with my dinner did eventually kick in and the rest of the night was fine. There were over 12 hours that passed between the one I took last night and the first one I took today with my breakfast, and yet there wasn't much pain to speak of this morning at all. My eyelid is starting to turn yellow (like I've got jaundice, 'cept just in that little bitty area) as the bruise rises to the surface. But other than that, still absolutely fine. People at the coffeehouse last night couldn't even see my stitches after I pointed them out to the people, because the lighting is a bit dark there and the stitches blend in so excellently. I'm gonna have one of my jr. highers read the full post tonight, which will get some great reactions from the students, methinks. Jr. highers dig scars, after all. Of course, it keeps getting pointed out to me that if this had happened only one week later, I'd have REAL stitches in time for halloween. (Or, for those that can go to the Jammin' Java in Vienna, VA that night .. Claire Holleyween.. ) I'm hoping that the VERY slight puffeyness goes down, too, because it's affecting my peripheral vision just enough to make things interesting. But again, such minor results from what could have been much worse, and not a horrible experience by any means. Praise God for His provision and protection. (And every time I say that, it's with the knowledge that His provision and protection come in many different forms and don't always include someone not getting a concussion or not being in a plane accident or such.. c'est la vie.) (0) comments Tuesday, October 22, 2002
Drat.. still can't fix my archives. Grr.(0) comments I took the gauze off last night a little while after getting home, and so far today no one's noticed that anything was different until I pointed it out to them. Props to the UVA doctor (Georgiou signed my prescription, but I didn't think that's what this Dr.'s name was) that put my sutures in. Precision is great, and she apologized for going slowly to which I replied I'd rather it slow and well done than speedy and horrible. Likewise, the pain hasn't been nearly as bad as it could have been. My tetanus shot soreness is hardly noticeable, hurting perhaps even less than if I'd gotten a bruise there as I oft have in the past. Part of the lack of soreness may be due to the pain killers, but all the same. The pain from my wound itself has been a wee bit more, but not nearly as bad as it should be. Of course, I'm also fairly disciplined about taking the pain killers, but I've only taken one regular strength ibuprofen at a time with the exception of the first night and last night when I took the hospital-given percocet. I'm not even gonna bother filling my prescription for it, because I never need pain killers that strong. And my neighbor, who is a nurse, will be taking the sutures out for me. I stopped by work last night to show them my proof of why I called out, and I still had the gauze on my head and all. When I went over to the manager, she was with a guest and a few coworkers at the cashier station. One of my coworkers asked me what happened, and I explained that a stack of chairs had fallen on me, and then turned to my manager, who I caught laughing a wee bit. She immediately straightened her face and said "I'm sorry, it's not funney", to which I replied that it really, really is. I mean, how many people get injured by a stack of chairs falling on them? I reckon everyone at the hospital was prolly stifling their laughter. I don't bother stifling mine.. when I had my car accident a few years ago, telling people that I crashed into a parked car was funney but very embarassing.. now, telling people that I was attacked by a stack of chairs is funney and not the slightest bit embarassing. In other, mostly related, news: I've very much been enjoying all the new albums that I acquired throughout this weekend. Over the Rhine, Kenny White, DaVinci's Notebook, and Eddie From Ohio have provided me with a great amount of listening pleasure for the days to come. So while I'm taking it easy at home, and when I'm able to take a nice, relaxing bath, and as we head into the Christmas season (I got the OTR Christmas album at their show, finally), I'll have many great new-to-me albums to listen to, not to mention the couple hundred (maybe as little 150, out of which at least 50 I absolutely love and another 50 that I like quite strongly) I already had, plus the bootlegs and ghetto demos and such. In still other news, I best be going. (0) comments Monday, October 21, 2002
This is the story that would have gotten me through the hospital red tape much faster, and would have been much more interesting:
I was at the Eddie From Ohio show last night at the Starr Hill Music Hall (upstairs from the Starr Hill restaurant and Brewery) in Charlottesville, and was working merch as I am wont to do. The show had ended, Sarah and her friends had left for Starbucks, most of the other audience members had gone, and I was just packing up the merch table. Suddenly, a very large redneck in a plaid flannal shirt and a worn-out Billy Ray baseball hat came over to my area. Snapping his suspenders (which were the only thing keeping his rugged blue jeans from falling off his gargantuan beer belly), he demanded an EFO Koozie to keep the last bit of his Star Hill Pale Ale cold. Unfortunately, I'd already put them away, but I told him if he could get his dollar out, I'd dig one out from underneath the brand new EFO Bubble Design tees (which, incidentally, are the same design upside-down, so that you can stand on your head and still support EFO). He didn't want to wait, and he certainly didn't want to pay one of his hard-earned dollars, so instead he pulled out his buck knife and lunged at me. I managed to jump out of the way in time to avoid certain scalping, but sacrificed my left eyebrow in the process. After giving me a three-and-a-half centimeter laceration, he fell to the ground, as drunks often do. Flipping over quickly, though, he prepared to attack again. However, he was no match whatsoever for my unbelievable skill and quick-thinking, as I quickly grabbed the tee-shirt display rack and whapped him upside the head with it, carefully avoiding any blood spillage on the brand new Bubble Design display tee. Moaning and rolling around on the floor, he begged for mercy, but he was still holding his knife, and my mamma didn' raise no foo'. I grabbed his right hand (in which he held his weapon) and twisted it behind his back, using incredible pressure to force his fingers open and let the knife fall to the floor. I then wrestled him back to the ground, wrapped him up in some spare lighting cords found near the merch area, and glared him into passivity. He'll think again before demanding a free Koozie. (See? That would've certainly cut down (pardon the gross pun) my waiting time at the hospital..) The real story: I was counting up the merch at the end of the show after most everyone was gone, and the merch area was in the same little hallway-like-closet space where Starr Hill stores their chairs. The guys putting the chairs away managed not to put all the stacks in quite right, and in some bizarre domino-effect way, them pushing a last stack in on their side knocked over the stack nearest me, which hit my face and split open my eyebrow, necessitating a hospital trip for stitches, or sutures, or what have you. The folks from Starr Hill are footing the bill, and couldn't have been nicer about it all. Eddie From Ohio also was really great in their response and their kindness through everything, including keeping me company at the hospital and giving me one of their brand new Bubble Design Tees to replace my bloody shirt, along with several CDs and a cupcake, and getting me a hotel room for the night so I didn't have to drive all the way home under the influence of Percocet. Mmm.. Percocet.. So I'm on significant amounts of drugs right now, and called out of work tonight. I've still got gauze covering my wound, but will be taking that off tonight, methinks. And I get my sutures out in five days, hopefully somewhere here (I don't have a doctor here), instead of having to go all the way back to Charlottesville to have that done. I don't recommend this as a way to get a band's attention or to be remembered at a venue, but because of the kindness of the Starr Hill Staff (especially Bridget who became my driver and company-keeper for the evening) and of Eddie From Ohio (the band and Spongebob Soundman), it was actually not a terrible experience. And the doctors say I shouldn't have a noticible scar, but I figure that even if I do, it'll match the rest of my collection and will give many excuses to share my story again and again. (The phrase for the night was "A stack of chairs fell on her head and we're taking her to the hospital", which just brings up an entirely different mental image than the reality that I experienced.) Please pray it doesn't get infected and doesn't influence my work for the rest of the week. Thanks. (0) comments Tuesday, October 15, 2002
I had a million completely relevent and interesting things to say 'till I actually signed in to blogger.
Drat. (0) comments Friday, October 11, 2002
I was working noon to five the other day, and Mark and Joel were coming in around 1:30, so I gave them directions to my Target. Nice and easy directions. Really easy. So they came there and I drew them a little map to my house and the other exciting spots in the area at which they could kill time before starting prep for the show that night.
When I got home from work, they were all settled in and ready for the show apart from having dinner and such. So I made squiggly-pasta with psgetti sauce for the guys and Papa John's garlic butter sauce (which is FANTASTIC on pasta) for myself, and also made acorn squash, which is one of my favorite things in the entire world. So simple, too, just like the shortbread I also love to make. We had our dinner and finished up just in time for people to start arriving at 8pm-ish, at which point the guests made themselves comfortable in the living room, and Joel and Mark started their house concert performance. I think they probably only got through about 10 songs total, throughout the next three hours, including the intermission and distraction times we had. They told a great number of stories inbetween and during the songs, though, and kept our cozy little group (about 8 people other than the guys and myself there) laughing and enjoying ourselves the whole time. Mark Philpot has been a friend of mine for something like a year or year and a half now, from one of my message boards. Thus, it was great to meet him. He sent me his CD (as a "please book me!" gift) several months ago, but hearing him live was that much better. Quite the talented guy, and great for reminding people to "Be that person".. you know, the person to go get tissues for his fellow performer when his nose is running, that sorta person. His touring buddy, Joel Sprayberry, is a guy I honestly hadn't heard of before, though I'm still trying to figure out how that happened since his musical connections run in the same group as many of the other musicians I love dearly. He was fantastic, though, between asking every person individually what their hobbies were, and being ok with both himself and Mark having those moments when they forget the words to their songs. So I'm now the glad owner of all of Mark and Joel's CD's, and have been enjoying those since acquiring them. I'm also the glad recipient of a wonderful experience hosting a house concert featuring two such talented and enjoyable individuals. Please check out their websites and see if you can bring them to your area any time soon, and consider purchasing their CD's yourself. Likewise, please support independent music and host as many house concerts as you can. :) Lab's closing, I need to off. (0) comments The raps the guys were making up were truly bizarre and not-entirely-tolerable in their forced rhymage, so after making an incredibly fantastic shot in our pool game, I walked by and swiftly tapped one of the guys on his knee with my stick. The problem: I really don't have the coordination to do things like this smoothly, despite having been using these moves on my brothers and various other humans my entire life. So I didn't move the stick properly. I did hit his knee, yes, but the other end also hit my forehead. So far, some 15 hours later or so, there's just a red bump that hurts anytime I make any facial expression involving my eyes, eyebrows, or forehead. Which basically means any facial expression at all. I'm half expecting that it'll bruise, and bruise dramatically to involve a great distance from the actual spot about an inch above the nose side of my right eyebrow where the pool stick came in contact with my head, which could end up being entirely too amusing. Every time that little bump hurts me now, I laugh because of how amazingly smooth I am. If it bruises, I'll be laughing constantly. For reals. Ah, the slickness of it all.. (0) comments Tuesday, October 08, 2002
I had just parallel parked and taken my key out of the ignition. I was leaning over into my passenger seat to get my lunchbox, when suddenly I heard a loud screeching noise coming from the driver's side. Looking up, I saw a huge sofa delivery truck scraping against my mirror, sending sparks flying and broken glass dropping. My window was down, the noise was loud, and I was really quite a bit afeared of the shrapnel and sparkage coming into contact with my face. However, as humans often do in such situations, I just sat there. I didn't roll up my window, I didn't move over into the other seat, I just sat there, staring at my mirror, thinking about how great this was. Not only was I already running late for the book reading/signing in the shop just a few feet away, but now I was stuck in my car (yes, I know, at least I have a car) while the mirror was being ripped off. So the truck, having finally gotten itself free from its connection to my vehicle, stopped. Both driver and passenger got out and came to see what damage had been done. The driver called the company he works for and was told that the company would just pay for it, since the insurance would be worse than the actual payment, so hopefully that'll actually happen.
It was a really crazy experience, though. What's even crazier is that in the meantime, 'till I can get the mirror appraised, fixed, and get the check from said delivery company, my mirror is still skewed. Now, my car was built without one on the right-hand side, and I've learned over the past 10 months how to drive just fine without that one. But not having one on my side either makes things a little more interesting. Being passed was such a normal, non-frightening thing when I could see the car behind me or beside me. With my mirror skewed, though, I can see the passing car in my mirror and out of my peripheral vision at the same time, and being passed suddenly becomes that much more scary, especially at night. Driving is such a habitual thing, and having my lines-of-vision changed so much makes every driving experience a little more interesting. Fortunately, though, this isn't something I'll need to get used to.. I'll be getting it fixed asap (hopefully on Friday) and then will be back to the nice, happy, Gilbert-with-mirrors-driving self I was before. (Gilbert being my car's name for those of you that haven't been reading since December.) That was one of the more exciting events from this weekend. I wrote out an entry on the book signing/reading, too, and will be posting that next time I get online. For now, it's off to work. I do like being able to say that. :) (0) comments I'm thinking of spelling my name Pattey. Email me your thoughts, or catch me on AIM the rare moment I'm on. :) (0) comments |
Hippie: (after hearing Max wants to avoid the draft)You still have options man. "So how do i do normal "It's been known for a train to jump its track. It's ok, so you'll know, most times they come back. It's ok to lose your life, when you finally see your birth. It's ok to say, "I love you," and figure sometimes it's gonna hurt. "As a comedian, you have to start the show strong and you have end the show strong. Those are the two key elements. You can't be like pancakes, all exciting at first, but then by the end you're sick of 'em!" "Hey, this is weird! I ordered one frozen yogurt and they gave me two. You don't happen to like frozen yogurt, do you?" "I love it!" "You're kidding! What a crazy random happenstance!" "Only one more trip," said a gallant seaman, "It was Flannery O'Connor who said that 'grace must wound before it heals.' Her words help me to separate what is most true about life from the things we want to be true. We want life to be painless. True grace is a hard sell because in order for the human heart to understand forgiveness and love, it must first experience darkness and isolation. A life lived under the rule of grace is a life of need which allows us to receive an appreciate the gift of the giver of grace. This is why we will always have the poor with us; this is why God will not allow us to ignore injustice; this is why we are called to a life we cannot handle alone, which can and will break us in the effort to live it -- because grace must wound before it heals." Regarding 2007: Should auld acquaintance be forgot, I thought Christmas Day would never come. But it's here at last, so Mom and Dad, the waiting's finally done. And you gotta get up, you gotta get up, you gotta get up, it's Christmas morning. O little town of Bethlehem, Walk humbly, son Strings of lights above the bed "In a little while I'll feel better "Please tell me once again that You love me. That You love me. Please tell me once again that I matter to You and You really care. Please tell me once again that You're with me, forever. It's not that I could ever doubt you, I just love the way it sounds. I just love the way it sounds." "Every once in a while, a bannerzen posts." "7:30. What kind of people have to be at work at 7:30?" have you seen my love Traveling is significant because it takes so much effort. Either you're going to some place you love, or you're leaving some place you love. Usually it's both. I think I have Bond's ability to get into trouble but not his ability to get out of it. Someday I'll be in some foreign country with 5 thugs with automatic rifles pointed at me, and I'll just.... fart "You had no alternative .. We must work in the world. The world is thus." --- "No .. Thus have we made the world." The summer ends and we wonder where we are And there you go, my friends, with your boxes in your car And you both look so young And last night was hard, you said You packed up every room And then you cried and went to bed But today you closed the door and said "We have to get a move on. It's just that time of year when we push ourselves ahead, We push ourselves ahead." Looking out the bedroom at this snowy TV.. ever since commencement, no one's asking 'bout me. But I bet before the night falls, I could catch the late bus.. take small provisions and this Beethoven bust. I could find work in the outskirts of the city, eat some fish on the way.. befriend an old dog for a roadside pal, find a nice couch to stay -- a pull-out sofa, if you please!" Ooh! Get me away from here I'm dying "The trouble with folks like Brownie is they hold their life in like a bakebean fart at a Baptist cookout and only let it slip out sideways a little at a time when they think there's nobody noticing. Now that's the last thing on earth the Almighty intended. He intended all the life a man's got inside him, he should live it out just as free and strong and natural as a bird." "Life is a phantasmagoria .. It is a pell-mell of confused and tumultuous scenes. We try in vain to find a purpose - to bring an order, a unity to life. I suppose that is the appeal of art. Art is the blending of the real and the unreal, the conquering of nature. It is real enough for it to reflect life, but has the unity that life lacks." "in time memories fade. I've always had this feeling about Patty that she's complex and intriguing...I like Patty alot. She's got a good heart and tells terrible squirrel jokes. "Try to remember that world-weariness isn't necessarily a bad thing. In the book of Mark, I think its Mark, Jesus looks at a blind man and sighs. Jesus sighed before even telling the man he would be healed. He sighed, and I'm not sure that there's a much more human expression of frustration than this. Faced with the horrid picture of a cursed earth and looking into the white eyes of a man blind from the day he was born, He sighed. The Creator of the universe in human form was sad "of the evils of this world," the world He created. Your Creator sighed for you in the same way before He healed you and made you His." After the last secret's told After the last bullet tears through flesh and bone After the last child starves And the last girl walks the boulevard After the last year that's just too hard There is love -- Andrew Peterson, After the Last Tear Falls "when you most need people, you don't need perfection - just to know someone gives a damn" "A CALL TO ACTION: "My brother's always [telling me], 'You should be more mysterious--boys like that.' But I'm not good at that. It would just make me more uncomfortable." "Loners want to kill you, but not for any particular reason, and they'd probably like you if they weren't being guided by the violent voices in their head." "No one wants to oil a snake these days!"
-- Her mom: "We're all safe." -- Jamie Bevill and her mother during Christmas-Decorating dinner, December 20, 2002 i'd throw out all my shoes i'd set up cans for friends to dump their shoes senseless shoes a pioneer of callouses lordy-be and bless my soul i'd be a barefoot spaceman the first you'd ever know" "The best way to have God's will for your life is to have no will of your own!" "Generations circle and each one atones. The sins of the father are seperate from my own. In Pilgrim's Progress, it's forgiveness that makes whole, and as time levels and consoles, I place the daisies in your bowl." "For a moment he just stared at her. Then, with an urf-urf-urf of laughter, he turned back to the controls." "It's on the internet.. so, then, it must be true." "Be at least as interested in what people can become as you are in what they have been." Blessed be the rock stars!" Get up for the shower.. wash and scrub and scour every part as if a cleaner man could better bear the shame.. "She was eating gnarly amounts of calcium." Homeless man to girl trying to give him money: "No, thanks, ma'am. I never work on Sundays." "Wow! I never thought I'd need a radar-guided spatula!" "Isn't it great that I articulate? Isn't it grand that you can understand? ... I can talk, I can talk, I can talk!" I believe that people laugh at coincidence as a way of relegating it to the realm of the absurd and of therefore not having to take seriously the possibility that there is a lot more going on in our lives than we either know or care to know... I suspect that part of it, anyway, is that every once and so often we hear a whisper from the wings that goes something like this: "You've turned up in the right place at the right time. You're doing fine. Don't ever think that you've been forgotten. When I lay these questions before God I get no answer. But a rather special sort of "No answer." It is not the locked door. It is more like a silent, certainly not uncompassionate, gaze. As though He shook His head not in refusal but waiving the question. Like, "Peace, child; you don't understand." CCM: You've spoken a lot more about crying than I ever thought you would. "Youth is not a period of time. It is a state of mind, a result of the will, a quality of the imagination, a victory of courage over timidity, of the taste for adventure over the love of comfort. A man doesn't grow old because he has lived a certain number of years. A man grows old when he deserts his ideal. The years may wrinkle his skin, but deserting his ideal wrinkles his soul. Preoccuptaions, fears, doubts, and despair are the enemies which slowly bow us toward earth and turn us into dust before death. You will remain young as long as you are open to what is beautiful, good, and great; receptive to the messages of other men and women, of nature and of God. If one day you should become bitter, pessimistic, and gnawed by despair, may God have mercy on your old man's soul." ""Don't go matchmaking for me, Ilse," said Emily wit a faint smile... "I feel in my bones that I shall achieve old-maidenhood, which is an entirely different thing from having old-maidenhood thrust upon you." "I wish Aunt Elizabeth would let me go to Shrewsbury, but I fear she never will. She feels she can't trust me out of her sight because my mother eloped. But she need not be afraid I will ever elope. I have made up my mind that I will never marry. I shall be wedded to my art" "Tomorrow seems like a long ways away. But it will come, just like any other day... Deep inside, where the wounded creatures hide, I am afraid. Maybe I got lost somewhere along the way somehow. Please rescue me... Yea, though I walk through the valley of the dark shadow of death, I will fear no evil. For you are with me... Though I fear, though I am afraid, You are with me. Though I'm angry, tired, broken down and confused, You are with me. Though I sin like I've never sinned before, lose myself right out an open door, You are with me." "The invisible people agreed about everything. Indeed most of their remarks were the sort it would not be easy to disagree with: "What I always say is, when a chap's hungry, he likes some victuals," or "Getting dark now; always does at night," or even "Ah, you've come over the water. Powerful wet stuff, ain't it?"" -- C. S. Lewis, The Voyage of the Dawn Treader "When People object... that if Jesus was God as well as Man, then He had an unfair advantage which deprives Him for them of all value, it seems to me as if a man struggling in the water should refuse a rope thrown to him by another who had one foot on the bank, saying, "Oh but you had an unfair advantage." It is because of His advantage that He can help." "But, you know, as a Christian, one of the big questions you always ask yourself is, "So we believe in Jesus, we believe in the teachings of the church, but what does that look like when it's lived out?" Because surely, one of the things that Jesus said that I think we often overlook is, "The person who hears my words and does them is like the wise man who built his house on the rock." He didn't say "the person who hears my words and thinks about 'em" or "whoever hears my words and agrees with it." But he said, "Whoever hears it and does it." "find that which gives you breath and grants you more to give "I have packed all my belongings. I don't belong here anymore. This pair of sandles, one pack to carry, this old guitar and this tattered old Bible. And I know I won't be afraid. 'cause I know, I know Home is where You are." "Open up your weepy eyes, everyone is dancing. Angels peer through sweet disguise, through a fire of cleansing. "Long hair, no hair; Everybody, everywhere:
Breathe Deep, breathe deep the Breath of God!" "You may be bruised and torn and broken, but
you're Mine!" "I don't deserve to speak, and they don't deserve
to hear it. It's makin' me believe that it's not
about me." "Kickin' against these goads sure did cut up my
feet. Didn't your hands get bloody as you washed
them clean?" "They say God blessed us with plenty. I say
you?re blessed with poverty. ?Cause you never
stop to wonder whether earth is just a little
better than the Land of the Free" "Computers will know everything in the 21st
century. They'll be like me in the 20th
century." |
