tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-78136022489531096882024-03-05T11:31:38.411-06:00Vie selon moi...somewhat daily musings from an ocassionally-intuitive, seemingly-thought provoking deep thinker...Stacyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06484283952690289547noreply@blogger.comBlogger23125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7813602248953109688.post-86495244771628961642011-08-18T14:26:00.001-05:002011-08-21T13:00:43.299-05:00PrideMy pastor recently put something on Facebook about an upcoming sermon he's preaching on <u>when religion hurts</u>. Now, this is all I have heard or know about the sermon - as he hasn't <i>preached</i> it yet - so I have no idea which direction he's taking this topic. But it got me to thinking this week how religion can be hurtful. For the past couple of days this has been on my mind, and while I still cannot come up with a neat bulleted list, I have come up with a lot of ways that religion hurts - but they are all incredibly specific ways. When there is fighting between Christians about doctrine or belief, or when there is fighting between different faith traditions about who is "right" and who is "wrong" and who said what and what <i>really</i> happened. Regardless of whether or not you would agree with anything I have to say, and vice versa, the whole point is that there is freedom in religion. I know that not all places in the world have "religious freedom" as we would call it in America, but I'm talking about something much more transcendent than basic human rights. There is freedom in religion. In religion, there seems to be a deeper sense of self and a moral compass that guides one throughout life. Again, whether or not we want to agree with people or throw them under the bus, the freedom that comes from religion is a beautiful thing - because it's universal. At least, in the way that I view religion.<br />
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And this is the problem. Freedom in religion. It's the beauty and the curse. Because, as a human being, I have an enormous about of pride. Whether I realize it or not, I value myself more than I value others - I truly think that at the core of my being, I value myself over everyone else. Of course I tear up when I see the starving children on the commercial. <br />
<i>The commercial that I just forgot to fast forward through using the DVR - which has 15 tv shows that I just haven't had time to watch yet because I've been shopping at Hobby Lobby, or meeting friends for drinks at Starbucks, or working at a job that pays well and puts food of the table every night, but of course, I always buy too much food at the air conditioned, over-stocked, too much food for anyone grocery store, and it goes bad before I eat it all, and then I have to throw it away - because, "oh well, next time I just won't buy $100 worth of groceries, I'll just buy $75 worth."</i><br />
<br />
Anyway...<br />
While thinking about the idea of "religion hurts," I keep coming back to pride. Is it pride that drives the conflict? Is it pride that cause the schisms? Is it pride that segregates different faith traditions? Is it pride that says, "I'm right, so that must mean you're wrong"? Is pride the root of it all? Because I know that I get myself into a world of hurt sometimes...<br />
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In various instances throughout my young adult life, I have come in to contact with a wide array of people who believe various things - contrary as well as similar to myself. I find myself lucky to have been shaped and molded by these circumstances and situations. However, religion does hurt sometimes. The most sincere person can be offensive. I've often thought that intentions are incredibly important. That, as long as you didn't intend to be hurtful that it's okay. And I've mulled this idea over for quite sometime, but I find a dichotomy. I think that intentions are incredibly important and sincerity is something that you should strive for. The outcome of the actions, however, are a different monster all together.<br />
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It's like when Hubby and I have an argument, I don't intend to be hurtful when I say certain things, but it comes off as being hurtful. There is no "right" or "wrong" in this scenario - there is one person who did not intend to be hurtful, and one person who is hurt - and that's a problem. How to fix it? I don't know, I've only been married for 4 1/2 years - maybe don't say hurtful things? I don't know.<br />
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But with religion, I feel like the hurt is a deep hurt. Because religion reaches down deep into your soul while also soaring into the highest realms of your world, when religion hurts - it rocks your psyche. It shakes your core and tears pieces away from your being. They say, "what doesn't kill you makes you stronger." Well, what doesn't kill you, doesn't kill you. I guess you become stronger because the other choice is to "be killed," but I would rather not have that mentality about life. I don't want to be a hurtful person. I don't want to judge other people's actions based on what I <i>think </i>they should have done, or what I <i>think</i> is the best thing for them.<br />
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I do not want to fool myself into thinking that I know everything about everyone and that I need to be their spiritual mentor without ever really getting to know them. I do not want to over-spiritualize myself so that I become a <i>holier-than-thou</i> voice of God for those (obviously) less fortunate. I believe in a sovereign God - a God that transcends humanity and everything that I could ever hope to comprehend. My God is BIG and I cannot contain God within the confines of my feeble existence. I want the freedom that comes with religion to be experienced by all, and I don't want to get in the way of others experiencing the freedom for themselves. I do not want my pride to hurt others. I do not want my pride to get in the way of potential relationships with people that might think things different from me. I do not want my pride to get in the way of God doing whatever it is that God does. I do not want my pride.<br />
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Religion hurts because pride. Religion hurts because pride hurts. Religion does not need to hurt, but pride hurts religion.<br />
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Thanks, Brother Pastor. I'm glad I saw your Facebook status. :)Stacyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06484283952690289547noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7813602248953109688.post-75952229999683417142011-05-24T11:28:00.000-05:002011-05-24T11:28:43.755-05:00In Five Days......I will be making last preparations to move to Turkey. <br />
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Maybe, I will have a fitful nights sleep (no matter how tired I will be from the past several days of seeing people, dining with friends and family, hanging out, and making sure things are in order to move). Maybe, I will wake up really early Sunday morning, it will probably be humid outside (because that's just my luck), so my hair will be a mess for our last Sunday at church. Maybe, the dress I have picked out to wear on Sunday which is currently in the "don't-touch-because-these-clothes-are-not-ready-to-be-packed-just-yet" pile will likely be moved, or I will have misplaced it in a fit of frazzled-ness. Maybe, it will be raining on the way to church, and I'll freak out a little because I hate flying, and it'll be stormy when we fly out later on in the day - and then be an anxious wreck. Maybe, church will be droopy and sad since it's our last Sunday and we LOVE, LOVE, LOVE our church and everyone there. Maybe, during church, I will be so distracted about thinking of all the things we MAY have forgotten, that I'll miss Mitch's wonderful series and the wonderful hymns we'll sing. Maybe, at lunch, we'll have a really terrible server and it takes forever to get our drinks, and food, and then we don't leave in time for us to do the last-minute things we need before we have to load up our things and go to the airport. Maybe, everything that could go wrong will go wrong. Or...<br />
<br />
Maybe, everything will be fine. We'll have a great 5 days spent with friends and family. Maybe, nothing else will really be a big deal, because so far we've been fine, and we'll have to trust that it continues to be fine. Chapter "next" is about to begin and we will be excited, nervous, anxious, nostalgic, and humbled. <br />
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Bring it, Turkey. We're as ready as we'll ever be!Stacyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06484283952690289547noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7813602248953109688.post-14882272395248188422011-05-01T23:16:00.000-05:002011-05-01T23:16:32.425-05:00I'm sick to my stomach...Bin Laden is dead. The news broke a couple hours ago and I have been watching the news reports as they have been streaming into the stations, videos on repeat, reporters rejoicing...<br />
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Every time I refreshed my facebook page, there were five more people who had something to add to the rhetoric that has been circulating the internet since the news broke. People are rejoicing, people are happy, praising God that this man is dead, relishing in the knowledge that justice has prevailed...<br />
<br />
And I'm sick. I'm absolutely disgusted. <br />
<br />
Bin Laden did terrible things. There is no fiber of my being that thinks he made good choices with his life. I do not condone the things that were done or the things that will be done.<br />
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But I'm sick. And I am absolutely disgusted by the rhetoric that people are using.<br />
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As a Christian, as one who has faith and hope in the sovereignty of God - HOW can I rejoice in the death of any individual? He was loved by God, just like I am. How is his death any different? Because he killed a lot of people? Because people took it upon themselves to join a cause fighting the antithesis of the ideology of Bin Laden and they happened to be "our people"?<br />
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How is rejoicing in the death of someone a good thing? How is this different from those of Westboro Baptist, who go and protest soldiers' funerals? Because Bin Laden was bad? We're all bad - just go read facebook from the past two hours. People are celebrating because someone was killed. People are celebrating because someone was killed. People are celebrating because someone was killed.<br />
<br />
And it's the most disgusting thing I have ever witnessed. Someone posed the idea:<br />
<br />
<i>Would you wash the feet of Bin Laden as Christ did for you? </i><br />
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Because this is what we're called, as Christians, to be. We are to be Jesus to everyone. Everyone always says this, it's a nice little thing to say...pretty, nice, dainty even... If I had to wager a guess as to whether or not people actually buy in to this by the gross display that was facebook's newsfeed tonight, I'd have to say that we're full of...well, a word I typically try not to say.<br />
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Grace is for all. For all. Christ died for all. Not: everyone, except those that I don't think deserve it, or could ever deserve it because I said so...<br />
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For all.<br />
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God be with our nation.Stacyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06484283952690289547noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7813602248953109688.post-43848162372419334372011-03-23T22:32:00.001-05:002011-03-23T23:21:21.735-05:00Going through crap...I need to start blogging somewhat daily...unfortunately I'm not very good at doing this in the first place, so I need to get exponentially better! :)<br />
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Over the last couple of weeks I have slowly been going through things, in fact, if you came over to our house right now it would look as if we had a gaggle of toddlers come through and pull things off shelves, stack things in the hallway, etc. We have given 3 car loads of clothing and miscellaneous items to good will, and still have TOO much random crap. Also, in this process, we have been buying nicer "teaching" clothes for our big move in ten weeks...most of these clothes coming from Gap Outlet or the Clearance rack at Gap...if we're being honest. I feel less terrible about buying a bunch of new clothes when we're buying them at 50%-70% off at all times. Even though there is so much more to do, I've gotten a little accomplished, and feel pretty good.<br />
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Going through our things has gotten me thinking...How did we acquire so much stuff...it's random stuff, too. I went through an obscure "junk closet" just yesterday and I found things I bought months ago, still unused and in the packaging....and I have no pragmatic use for it anymore. How much of the stuff I have is actually worth the money or time I spent acquiring it? I guess it comes with moving halfway across the globe - this perspective has made me wonder loads of different things: How will I parent? What important ideals will I hope to instill in my children? How will living abroad affect the way I parent? When we move back to states after we have lived abroad, will I be considered frugal? Will I be the "crazy" missionaries who were never really "missionaries"...that everyone smiles at but makes fun of behind closed doors? Will I still find shopping at Hobby Lobby an enjoyable experience? And I know these are silly questions, or may seem insignificant, I still wonder about them. I don't lose sleep over them, but I wonder.<br />
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Wonder. There are so many unknowns in moving, regardless of where you move. Wonder is the one thing that is making me anxious and excited all at the same time. I can't really explain the feeling, but wonder is at the center of it all. Slowly getting rid of things has been an eye-opening experience. These things I can't take with me...so what is important?<br />
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At the end of the day...what are the things I don't want to be without? Superficial and insignificant to others...but what are they? It's a weird thing to think about.Stacyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06484283952690289547noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7813602248953109688.post-23081455204828638342010-12-10T10:33:00.000-06:002010-12-10T10:33:01.884-06:00Last Day of Class......for THIS degree.<br />
<br />
One of these days, I have big plans to go to graduate school - no idea when, where, for what, or how...but one of these days. Hubby is cool with it, too. :)<br />
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Today is the last day of my undergraduate classes for the rest of my life. It's a weird feeling. It's seems silly to be excited about it, mainly because it's taken a long time to get here. When I graduated high school, I had NO desire to continue going to school for a higher education. Growing up in a small-ish town, there are a different set of "worldviews" involved. I am, by no stretch of the imagination, saying that growing up in a small town makes you small-town minded (maybe a little) and, therefore, means - insert list of derogatory things - here. All I am saying is, there are different expectations, and I experienced this firsthand. When my parents forced me to go to college after graduation it was with the BEST of intentions. And I appreciate it...now. At the time, I rebelled. For the year I was away at college, I managed to receive 9 college credits while failing 21 credits. You do the math - not good.<br />
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With a 1.5 or so GPA, I quit college and got a job for the next one in a half-two years. Living at home, my parents were gracious enough to allow to stay living with them free of charge and comfortable. Looking back, it seems weird to have done that (where I am now in life), and I am grateful to them for letting me work out my life in the comfort of their home.<br />
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Rich and I were married January 6, 2007 - and I continued to not want to go to school (Rich, who would be a career student if it paid the bills, could not understand). I had taken 3 or 6 hours at the community college here and there, and had gained a few more credits to my name, increasing my GPA just a little.<br />
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In December of 2007, after talking with my sweet hubby about continuing my education, which he was THRILLED about, I told him I wanted to go to the University of Oklahoma. He plainly said, "Ok." Nervous and excited, I sent off my application, was accepted as a transfer student with 30-36 hours (don't remember), and talks began about moving to Oklahoma.<br />
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We moved to Norman, OK, June 2008.<br />
<br />
OWC (stealing this from Autumn, as "Our Wonderful Church") became Rich's place of ministry and we both got other jobs as well to supplement our income (I hold to the idea that no one becomes a paid minister because it's going to make you wealthy...just an observation - and those that GET wealthy, I would suggest that maybe what they're doing isn't ministry...but that's a tangent for another blog)<br />
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I enrolled in classes for the Fall of 2008, one of them being "Intro to Religious Studies." If I had only known what doors this one class would have opened, I think I would have walked in to the class feeling like I was going in for an interview - nervous, and not myself at all.<br />
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Professors B and T Boyd have been instrumental in my degree - and I am indebted to them for their kindness and willingness to work with students, to talk with students, to open up their home to students, and really do anything that can for students. I can honestly say that they live for their students - for the challenges that students have, the sharing of intellectual conversation, the evolution of a student's worldview into something broad, etc. Best professors, ever.<br />
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In this entire process, I have had the pleasure of meeting great groups of people in every "life" I have had in Norman: school life, church life, work life, sister life, hubby life. Each group of people I come in to contact with changes me for the better. I have learned much, experienced much, and and grateful for everything!<br />
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Norman, OK: I didn't expect much when we first met, and I'm still not sure about you as a geographic location (WHY can't you just be in Texas), but you house some of the greatest people I have ever had the please of meeting, and for that, I am eternally indebted.<br />
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"I have been changed for the better...because I knew you, I have been changed for good."<br />
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Hundreds of people have gone unnamed, but there are too many names to list you all - just know that I cherish each and every one of you. Thank you for shaping the person I am becoming - and challenging me to grow into something more.<br />
<br />
:)Stacyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06484283952690289547noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7813602248953109688.post-6418123379832296082010-12-05T00:05:00.000-06:002010-12-05T00:05:14.575-06:00Hope & JoyThere are certain moments where I feel like I could burst into tears with joy. Not because something good has happened to me, or something works out in my favor - just random outbursts of joy.<br />
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As I was driving to work the other day, I had my iPod playing a random "Shuffle" of my "Christmas" genre music. It was anything from Josh Groban to N'Sync (who, btw, sing a mean a cappella version of "O Holy Night!") But back to the story - a Michael W. Smith song popped up, it was "Sing Noel, Sing Hallelujah." It is a song that has a huge orchestra, and what seems like a 500 person choir. It is one of the most beautifully moving songs I have heard this holiday season - and the mixture of the lyrics that gave me such hope along with the masterful orchestra....it was truly ineffable. This post really doesn't even make sense to you - because you have no idea what I'm talking about. Ineffable.<br />
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There is such a sense of hope in the holidays. Not because there are things to look forward to, but because the world seems to get smaller as we realize that there are others less fortunate and realize all that we have been blessed with - material and other. This time of year, at least in this part of the world (which is all I know), there is a spirit of hope and glimpses of joy in everything from a religious experience, <a href="http://www.google.com/url?url=http://s0.ilike.com/play%23Michael%2BW.%2BSmith:Sing%2BNoel%252C%2BSing%2BHallelujah:50948514:s28404786.8116347.13288945.0.2.196%252Cstd_b64fa8fd153a4ac7b83672b88041501c&rct=j&sa=X&ei=OSr7TPmdKozksQPRkcn3DQ&ved=0CB0Q0wQwAA&q=sing+noel+sing+hallelujah&usg=AFQjCNEopwhZWOMBWuQoIaDjAfnUIZAYGQ">a song on the radio</a>, a raw and honest <a href="http://www.ethicsdaily.com/news.php?viewStory=17082">blog post about prayer</a>, or a good home-cooked meal.<br />
<br />
This post is not trying to be inspirational and convicting - enough of that will be portrayed during the holiday season.<br />
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I was brought to tears by the beauty of music - and it is something I found hopeful with a replenished sense of joy that seems to fade at times.<br />
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What gives you hope? What revitalizes your joy?Stacyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06484283952690289547noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7813602248953109688.post-55656627490112240442010-11-29T10:31:00.000-06:002010-11-29T10:31:12.074-06:00Books I Want...a blog for myself<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Thanksgiving has gone, and now it seems like there is no time at all before Christmas is here. Which is a happy feeling as well as stressful. I graduate on the 17th, and I keep thinking - I have so much to do before then. I have 5 tests. That's it. It doesn't seem like much, but they are in the span of 7 days - that's the kicker. Stress levels are high, but the Christmas trees in my living room help to elicit calm - even when there is none is the foreseeable future.</span><br />
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</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Hubby and I decided to get gifts for each other this year. This seemed like a good idea at the time we decided, but I have no idea what to get him. Unlike me, he does not have perpetual lists of things that he wants (to my knowledge, anyway). I have a list on the Notes App of my phone and it even has two categories: Things & Books. I love books. If I could just live at Barnes & Noble, or at my imaginary Amazon.com's Library....it would be a happy day. I know there are libraries, but libraries smell after some time...couldn't live there.</span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">There is one book, in particular, that I have my eye one:</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span></div><br />
<div style="font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><img alt="books.jpg" src="webkit-fake-url://93833453-E7C9-47AE-9E3A-A63099D597FC/books.jpg" /></span></span></div><div style="font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span></span></div><div style="font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">This seems to take all the books in the Hebrew Bible, arrange them in the order that the Hebrew Bible is in, and then puts on verse-by-verse commentaries for the passages. It also includes different rabbinical interpretations and texts, articles from Jewish Scholars, and a few articles on the different ways to interpret the bible! :D</span></span></div><div style="font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span></span></div><div style="font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Call me a nerd, but this is exciting! Other's I am interested in are:</span></span></div><div style="font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />
</span></span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"></span></span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><div style="font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="9781851686353.jpg" src="webkit-fake-url://64505F5A-4486-4B7F-87B2-B4D9ABB23C8E/9781851686353.jpg" /></div><div style="font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">I read the back of the cover at a professor's house once and the book has stuck with me. It refers to the one verse in the Qur'an that talks about the crucifixion of Jesus. "</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i>But they killed him not, Nor crucified him</i></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i>, but so it was made to appear to them, and those who differ therein are full of doubts, with no (certain) knowledge, but only conjunction to follow, for of a surety they killed him not." (4:156-159)</i> This is the verse that the text deals with - and it seems absolutely enthralling! :D</span></span></span></div><div style="font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span></span></span></div><div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;"></div><div style="font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="jesus-a-revolutionary-biography.jpg" src="webkit-fake-url://C01016CA-FDA6-4B4D-909E-63190FDB9800/jesus-a-revolutionary-biography.jpg" /></div></span><br />
<div style="font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">Just sounds interesting - I love Borg & Crossan books, own several of them and am currently reading <a href="http://www.harpercollins.com/books/First-Christmas/?isbn=9780061549120">The First Christmas</a> which discusses what we know about the Infancy Narratives and how this gives them a different/deeper meaning because of this knowledge.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Just a few things I have had my eye on - in the Book column of my list, haha.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">One of the reasons I have been putting off buying this i because of the possibility of getting an eReader for graduation. I don't want to bog myself down with pages and pages and pages if I can have digital copies...so we'll see!</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">The end. Class is starting.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div>Stacyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06484283952690289547noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7813602248953109688.post-8454620306385556072010-11-21T12:20:00.000-06:002010-11-21T21:40:50.248-06:00Shut the world out? No, thanks.My hubby is blogging everyday, and it makes me want to blog again. Now, he's been blogging everyday for over a month and I am writing ONE blog post - I'm not too inspired, but it's baby steps. I came across an amazing music video the other day by a fairly popular artist. It was beautifully and creatively executed - so I went to iTunes (of course), and looked at other songs on the album. Now, it IS a Christian artist - I only divulge this information because it is crucial to what my actual blog is about.<br />
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Digression: I don't usually seek out "Christian" music because, to be honest, I'm a little bitter about what the general public think of when they think "Christian" and I don't want to be lumped in to the mediocre general population of the majority of North America. That being said, "No, I don't have another word to use. No, I don't have a better way of describing myself easily. No, I'm not ashamed of being a Christian (for all those who are judging me right now). No, no, no." Take what you want from this rant. The end.<br />
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Continuation: On iTunes, you can look at what different people have to say, comments, feedback, etc. about the album that you are pondering purchasing. Now, the first comment on there said a little of this and a little of that...but then, it said this about the music of the album:<br />
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"It brings the kingdom in and shuts the world out"<br />
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...hmmm, I guess there are different ways to take this.<br />
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1) It brings the kingdom in (like good feelings while listening?) and shut the world out (the noises of the workplace/home/car/etc. of wherever you are?)<br />
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2) It brings the kingdom in (heaven/future?) and shuts the world out (like, the present?)<br />
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3) It brings the kingdom in (God's metaphysical reign on earth?) and shuts the world out (again, like, the present?)<br />
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4) It brings the kingdom in (Christian bubble-ness?) and shuts the world out (exclusion of everyone who isn't in the Christian bubble?)<br />
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And to be honest, with the unfortunate events of my personal life and job in the past day - I interpreted this statement as #4. Now, if you are not able to sense the progression of sarcasm in that list, I am being a little snarky now (fyi). Is the goal of the average Christian to look forward to those experiences and moments where we feel super Christian-y resulting in everyone <i>different</i> than you being shut out entirely -- and this being something great?<br />
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Maybe I'm not being clear enough - the snarky getting in the way?<br />
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What I'm trying to say is this: The point of living this life is not to constantly surround oneself with the things one is familiar with and the things that are similar to one. (And I know a lot of the blogs I have written are religiously tainted, but I'm a religious studies major, it's what I tend to notice - and have much to say/critique). Is the goal in life to never be challenged? As a Christian, the reason I don't want myself lumped in to the general population is that I want something different than what Christianity has been known for/seen as for the past half-decade. And you know what I'm talking about - so don't get defensive.<br />
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People need to realize that we live on a huge planet - literally- with billions of other people - all different, in every way. All of these people have things to offer each other. I'm sure there is something I can recognize for myself that someone across the world is doing or finding value in that is different from what I am. This is not a threat to who I am or what I stand for - it's a recognition that I am imperfect and regardless of what I tend to think (as a selfish person), I can learn from and appreciate other people in both our similarities <i>and</i> differences.<br />
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This is scary? Yeah. This requires me to forget about my self and try new things? Yeah. This is a threat to who I am? No.<br />
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Taking something I learned from my Hubby, I charge whoever stumbles across this post (sorry, unfortunate souls), with this:<br />
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Find something outside of your 'bubble" worth your while. Something worth your time and energy. Something worth your respect and consideration. Or Someone - go a step further and find someone "other" than you and begin a relationship that will rock your world.<br />
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It'll be fun.<br />
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Promise.Stacyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06484283952690289547noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7813602248953109688.post-73784962360195507042010-11-21T01:54:00.002-06:002010-11-21T01:54:28.608-06:00Last Storybook Installment - Reuben's Account<div style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times; font-size: medium; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">REUBEN: </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">(He is sitting in his chair, hunched over with his elbows resting on the tops of his thighs. In a deep, soft, melodic voice he begins. The ball looks like a child’s toy in his big hands. ) </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I needed to get back on my father’s good side. Father was mad at me - so mad that he was going to take away my inheritance. I had taken part in slaughtering some of his cattle. It was a mistake, and I killed too many. I should have waited to see if we had enough, but I just wanted to get it done - I had better things to do. Because of this, father was angry. One day, we - most of my brothers and I - were away from the house. We were days away and father sent Joseph to find us. I assume it was to make sure we were all okay - which we were. He was such a punk...we all hated him. He knew we hated him so I don’t know why he came to us, alone, and unarmed.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">(</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><i>He l</i></span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">owers his head and stares at the ball as he turns it slowly in his hands - not worried. He is very casual about the events of his story, almost psychotic.)</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">REUBEN: I’m not the smartest person, but I could feel that this was my moment. I needed to be cunning and quick without being too obvious. We hated Jospeh, and with good reason. He would prance around the house and fields, wearing that stupid coat father had given him. His hands were soft from being lazy and taking advantage of father’s adoration of him. As he approached our tents, I could feel the hatred rising between us all with each step he took closer. It was a palpable, intense hatred. The surrounding noises of the desert even seemed to quiet on his slow approach. Simon wanted to kill him right then and blame it on some thieves; that’s what father was worried about in the first place when he sent Joseph to make sure we were alright. (</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">He is unnervingly calm as nothing falters in his voice. He continues, steadily.) </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I needed to be quick, and I was. Hastily, I spoke with Simon and Gad and convinced them that Joseph wasn’t worth our efforts in trying to kill him. An easy kill is much less gratifying than a slow and horrific murder. I needed to keep everything in order if I was going to come out ahead in all of this. I was going to have my inheritance, by God.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">(</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Everyone is looking a little nervous, including THERAPIST. They are staring at each other with worry in their faces.)</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">REUBEN: I suggested that instead of killing him, which would have been too easy, that we throw him in a deep pit filled with scorpions and snakes. Since I was the oldest, my brothers didn’t see a problem with this suggestion. As much as I wished he would suffer a slow and painful death, I needed him alive. I planned to stay behind when my brothers left the next morning for Egypt. I explained, to my brothers, that I needed to make sure he stayed put and didn’t escape. However, this was the perfect opportunity to </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><i>save </i>him </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">and get him back, generally unscathed, to father.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">(</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">He begins to get a little angry.)</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">REUBEN: Perfect plan. Joseph in agony and Reuben back in father’s good graces - pure brilliance. (</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><i>He b</i></span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">egins to yell, suddenly.) </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">But no! I waited all night, gloating about how it was going to turn out. No! My stupid brothers, only thinking of themselves and the measly profit they could make, sold Joseph. NO! (t</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">alks faster) </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">When I went to get him, he was gone! My brothers came back and told me what had happened: they had sold Joseph to some cheap merchants for a pathetic amount of money! They were too stupid and dense to see what needed to happen. They would have hated me for it, but they couldn’t realize what it would’ve meant to father. They didn’t have anything to lose, but I did, and I had lost it. Father never granted me my inheritance after that. All of Joseph’s dreams came true, and in the end he became king of Egypt...bastard. He gained everything that I should have had, and I will never forget. </span><br />
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">(Reuben stands up and silently sets the ball down on his seat. He looks at everyone in the circle and strides out of the room as if nothing was wrong.)</span></div><div style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times; font-size: medium; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: xx-small; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br />
</span></div><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: medium;"><span style="font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><i><a href="http://3critical.wordpress.com/2008/07/22/friday-the-13th-remake-promo-pic/" rel="nofollow" style="color: #a04d3e;"></a></i></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">THERAPIST: (</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Once she comes back to the situation, she calls to Reuben as he is almost at the door</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">.) Reuben, please come back. We are not finished here. (</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">He doesn’t turn back but opens the door and walks out. THERAPIST is a little unnerved and doesn’t quite know what to say. She mumbles a little under her voice - some broken thoughts.</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">) ...alright. Well, we still have ten minutes left in the session...um...do any of you want to talk about what just happened here? (</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">smiles weakly</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">) </span><br />
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">(silence for quite a while)</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">THERAPIST: Okay...I guess we’re done? I will see you all next session. You are free to leave.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">(</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Slowly, intermittently, the guys all stand to leave. No one says a word, and THERAPIST is left sitting in the room staring at her notepad, still. She lets out a quick breath, looks up, pats her hair to make sure it’s fixed, straightens her glasses, stands up, pauses a moment, lets out another breath, and walks out of the room. The lights dim on the empty room. The only bright light that remains is on the chair with the red ball. The only thing you can hear are THERAPIST’s heels as she walks down the linoleum hallway. The sound gets softer and softer until silence. Black out.)</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Author’s Note: The original story mentions that Reuben had the plan to not kill Joseph, but to put him in a pit in order to get on his father’s good side again. I liked this element of the story, and wanted to keep it in the retelling, mainly because I didn't want all of the characters to have redeeming qualities from their side of things. Reuben was the oldest and he would have been responsible for whatever happened, yes, but I wanted him to be psychotic. He needed to have that sadistic edge that was unnerving to read about. The original story said that Joseph knew his brothers hated him, and that everyone knew except their father. It all works out in the end, though, because Joseph eventually becomes King of Egypt and all is well. Also, my story ends rather abruptly, which is intentional. With this being the last story of my storybook, I want to leave the readers with something to think about. Not everything is resolved and not everyone is seen in a more positive light. I wanted Reuben to come off as a darker personality than how he is portrayed in the original story. With the Serpent, for instance, I wanted him to be pitied and Cain, I wanted him to show his remorse. I needed Reuben to be the character that was so twisted, you hate him more after reading his side. The focus on the red ball at the end shows that even though they each had a chance to share, there is an uneasy, lingering element that cannot be removed.</span></div><div><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br />
</span></div>Stacyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06484283952690289547noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7813602248953109688.post-50261607477024782662010-10-19T14:31:00.000-05:002010-10-19T14:31:10.285-05:00Cain's Story<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">CAIN: Well, um...I guess I have to talk. </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><i>(THERAPIST hands Cain the ball)</i></span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> I’m Cain I was the oldest. I guess the thing you want to know is whether or not I did it. I did... </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><i>(Looks down into his lap and turns the ball in his hands intently focused on it</i></span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">) I didn’t mean it and I didn’t want it to happen. </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><i>(There is a long pause. His voice breaks occasionally like he is on the verge of tears)</i></span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> There was this girl that I liked. I’m really shy and I don’t talk much. Abel talked all the time, and all the girls really liked him. Because I was the oldest, though, I had my choice, and I don’t want that to seem like she had to be with me, but I really wanted her to be with me...</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><i>(There is a long, uncomfortable silence.)</i></span><br />
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">THERAPIST: Cain, can you continue? We can come back to you in a minute if you would like.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">CAIN: (</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><i>Begins with more fervor and anger, griping the ball very tightly in his hands; squeezing)</i></span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> No. My brother was always better at things than me. He was the favorite with mom and dad. All the girls loved him and wanted to be with him. She wanted to be with him. I could have given her more than Abel could have given her. I actually loved her. He only loved the idea of loving her. He was too concerned with himself. Nothing I did was ever good enough. I provided for my family and I served God. What more did I need to do? What more could anyone...</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">THERAPIST: Please continue Cain, you are doing great! (</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><i>smiles curtly</i></span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">) Please include only “I” statements. This is your story, no one else’s.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">CAIN: </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><i>(Speaks quickly while his eyes wander back and forth around the room firmly griping the ball in his right hand the entire time</i></span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">) One day I was in the field gathering food and grain because it was autumn. It would be cold soon and we were going to need a supply of food for the winter months when there was less produced. I was hungry and I ate something. I offered the rest to God, and Abel came and told me I was an idiot for thinking that God wanted anything I gave him. God needed what was best, not my stupid scraps. I know that God needs what is best, and I know that God wanted me to have the things that he had given me and to be grateful for them as well. Abel wouldn’t hear it and he kept yelling at me. We were alone. I was supposed to stand up for myself. I decided that I wouldn’t take it anymore, so I told him to, ‘shut up.’ He just kept yelling and I couldn’t think straight. I couldn’t put my thoughts together, and I couldn’t say anything that made sense. It all came out the wrong way. I told him that he didn’t know what he was talking about and that he had everything he could ever ask for and God didn’t want what he had to offer because it wasn’t a good offering. Abel was a jerk and he had her. The girl I loved wanted to be with Abel. She didn’t want me. She chose Abel over me. (his voice gets louder) I could never have given her everything she deserved, she was perfect. I would have done anything for her, and she still chose Abel. He was such an ass. I tried to tell her that he didn’t love her. He couldn’t love, and he didn’t know how but he was more handsome and more eloquent than me...so she chose him. </span><br />
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><i>(He stands up, moves outside of the circle and starts pacing around the room. Everyone is watching closely as his voices gets louder and his anger mounts) </i></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">He just kept yelling at me. I know he is bigger than me, much stronger than me. I was quick. I had had enough of it. All my life I was never good enough for anyone. I never could do the work well enough for dad, and I could never be pious enough for my brother...the hypocrite. I don’t remember exactly what I thought would happen, but I picked up a rock. It was not a big rock, just a palm-sized stone. Abel was too busy berating me to notice. I was low to ground and I looked up at Abel and just threw it. (</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><i>Throws the ball against the wall. Everyone jumps, startled</i></span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">) It was so liberating. He didn’t know what had happened, and before he could process it, I picked up another and threw it. Then I picked up another, and another. We wrestled on the ground for a long time...he was much stronger than I was, but I had this rage inside of me that I needed to let loose. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">(</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><i>He stops pacing and his voice quiets back to normal. He talks slowly, every word carrying immense weight</i></span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">)</span><br />
<br />
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I didn’t intend to harm him. He was bigger than I was, but then he stopped moving. His neck twisted...it’s still a blur, somewhat...but I did it. I won’t deny it, I just didn’t mean for it to happen...(</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><i>sits back hard into his chair, staring off into nothing, dazed</i></span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">)</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">THERAPIST: That was very good Cain, I appreciate your honesty and your feelings. I am very impressed. Would you like a drink of water?</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">CAIN: (</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><i>He doesn’t say a word but stares straight ahead at nothing in particular. His eyes water and tear falls down his cheek</i></span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">)</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">THERAPIST: Well done, Cain. Now, Pharaoh? (</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><i>THERAPIST stands, picks up the ball, and hands it, non-plussed, to PHARAOH, who takes it, looking at it quizzically</i></span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">)</span><br />
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My <a href="https://sites.google.com/site/badguysofthehb/">Storybook</a> WebsiteStacyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06484283952690289547noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7813602248953109688.post-89719806499388686492010-10-08T00:30:00.001-05:002010-10-08T00:32:25.959-05:00StoriesI am in the process of a creating a 4-story, weblog/book for one of my online classes. This is the first of my four stories which I have chosen to create! I have taken a text (The Legends of the Jews/ Ginzberg) and am required to re-tell the stories in a creative way, so I chose four "villians" which will be written about over the remainder of the semester. I'll include the frametale (setup) before this particular post...hope you enjoy! (And these are all pre-editing)<br />
<div><br />
</div><div>FRAMETALE:</div><div><br />
</div><div><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial, sans-serif;">(Group of four men sitting in half circle with a young woman: </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial, sans-serif;">THERAPIST</span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial, sans-serif;">) </span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"><span style="font-family: arial, sans-serif;"></span></span><span style="font-family: arial, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><i><br />
</i></span></span> </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial, sans-serif;">THERAPIST: Welcome! This is Group Therapy. I want to go around the circle and have you tell the group your name, and the reason you feel you are here. Let’s start with...(</span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial, sans-serif;">pause, looks around trying to quickly decide who should go first)...</span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial, sans-serif;">Serpent. Will you please answer these questions? (</span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial, sans-serif;">Smiles)</span></span><span style="font-family: arial, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial, sans-serif;">SERPENT: </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial, sans-serif;">(Tall, lanky, 17 years old, handsome and charming, dark hair and eyes, coy smile. Voice is melodic, “s” sounds very pronounced; slight British accent, seems fake)</span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial, sans-serif;"> So...I am Serpent.</span></span><span style="font-family: arial, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial, sans-serif;">ALL: (</span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial, sans-serif;">monotone) </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial, sans-serif;">Hi, Serpent.</span></span><span style="font-family: arial, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial, sans-serif;">SERPENT: I “feel” I am here because of a slight misunderstanding involving a husband and his wife. Go on?</span></span><span style="font-family: arial, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial, sans-serif;">THERAPIST: Perfect, thank you, Serpent. Cain, would you be comfortable with going next?</span></span><span style="font-family: arial, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial, sans-serif;">CAIN: (</span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial, sans-serif;">Muscular guy, average height, 25 years old, long wavy golden hair, slight southern drawl) </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial, sans-serif;">Um...well, I’m Cain, I guess.</span></span><span style="font-family: arial, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial, sans-serif;">ALL: (</span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial, sans-serif;">monotone) </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial, sans-serif;">Hi, Cain.</span></span><span style="font-family: arial, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial, sans-serif;">CAIN: Yeah, well...um, I guess I feel like I’m here ‘cause I had a mishap with my brother, Abel. Wrong place, wrong time...ya know.</span></span><span style="font-family: arial, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial, sans-serif;">THERAPIST: Thank you, Cain. You don’t have to feel the need to justify anything. We are here to talk freely without judging each other. (</span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial, sans-serif;">Nods head in agreement, Cain relaxes)</span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial, sans-serif;"> Okay, how about </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;">Pharaoh?</span><br />
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial, sans-serif;">PHARAOH: (</span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial, sans-serif;">Middle Eastern, dark skin, dark hair, deep and airy voice. Superb English, hint of a French accent) </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial, sans-serif;"> Hello, I am Pharaoh.</span></span><span style="font-family: arial, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial, sans-serif;">ALL: (</span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial, sans-serif;">monotone, slightly frustrated) </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial, sans-serif;">Hi, Pharaoh.</span></span><span style="font-family: arial, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial, sans-serif;">PHARAOH: I feel as if I am here because of a poor judgment call concerning the Israelites in my employ. </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial, sans-serif;">(Pauses and looks at THERAPIST to make sure this is adequate).</span></span><span style="font-family: arial, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial, sans-serif;">THERAPIST: That was perfectly adequate Pharaoh. Thank you. Now, Reuben?</span></span><span style="font-family: arial, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial, sans-serif;">REUBEN: (</span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial, sans-serif;">Fidgety, burly guy with wandering eyes, soft spoken) </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial, sans-serif;">My name is Reuben.</span></span><span style="font-family: arial, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial, sans-serif;">ALL: (</span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial, sans-serif;">monotone, nonchalant) </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial, sans-serif;">Hi Reuben.</span></span><span style="font-family: arial, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial, sans-serif;">REUBEN: I didn’t want to, but I basically sold my brother...</span></span><span style="font-family: arial, sans-serif;"><br />
</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial, sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial, sans-serif;">THERAPIST: Thank you, Reuben. Alright, now what I want you all to do is look at this ball. (</span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial, sans-serif;">reaches underneath her chair and grabs a red plush ball) </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial, sans-serif;">This is the “talking ball.” Right now, I am holding it so I can talk and you can listen. (</span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial, sans-serif;">Smiles)</span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial, sans-serif;"> Now, we are going to pass the ball around the room and whoever holds it can talk. The only guidelines you have are to tell us your side of the story. The court has placed you together in order to encourage an open, non-judgemental, and safe place to share. (</span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial, sans-serif;">No one moves or says anything) </span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial, sans-serif;">Can we all play by these rules? (</span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial, sans-serif;">Everyone nods/shrugs/whispers in agreement).</span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial, sans-serif;"> Alright, let’s begin. Serpent... (</span></span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: arial, sans-serif;">THERAPIST hands the ball to SERPENT)</span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><i><br />
</i></span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><i>------------------------</i></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><i><br />
</i></span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><i><br />
</i></span></span></div><div><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 15px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><i>STORY 1</i></span></span><br />
<div style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times; font-size: medium; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br />
</span><br />
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br />
</span></div><div style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Times; font-size: medium; line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">SERPENT: I was once the most notable creature other than man. Have you ever had friends that were less intelligent than you are?</span><br />
<br />
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">THERAPIST: </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><i>(interrupting)</i></span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> I want you to tell me your side of the story, not to try and get justification from others in the group. They will have their time for holding the ball later, this is your time. </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><i>(smiles at SERPENT)</i></span><br />
<br />
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">SERPENT: Okay...well, as I was saying, I used to be the best of all creation, other than man. There was no one that could compare to my wit and my intellect and no one was smart enough to even understand my jokes...other than man. I hated that man was God’s favorite, it really wasn’t fair. I was almost on par with man, and I just don’t understand...didn’t understand why I was treated so unfairly. Never having friends...never having conversations...never being able to joke...</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><i>(long pause)</i></span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">...they were God’s favorite. I just wanted to be the same as them, and I knew that the woman was naive. I didn’t mean to do any harm to her or the man, but I just wanted friends. You can’t understand how lonely it was all by myself...</span><br />
<br />
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">THERAPIST: </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><i>(interrupting)</i></span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> I want you to use “me” statements, if you can. We all want to hear what you think, not what we think. YOU are the important person in this story.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">SERPENT: </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><i>(frustrated)</i></span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> Fine. </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><i>(Putting the emphasis on “I”)</i></span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; font-weight: bold; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> was lonely and </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; font-weight: bold; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; font-weight: bold; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">just wanted some friends. I didn’t have any...there was no one that could understand me, so when the woman was alone that day it was my opportunity to talk with her without the man standing there and talking for her. She was beautiful and a lot of fun to talk to, but I was more intelligent than she was, she was very gullible. But she was telling me something about not being able to touch the fruit of some tree. I don’t really think she knew what she was talking about, I hadn’t heard anything about that, I had heard something about eating it, and I knew that it was one of the trees in the general vicinity, but touching it? When I asked her which tree, she showed me, and I went up to the tree, but she screamed at me to come back. </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><i>(starts talking quickly, and less coherently)</i></span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> I turned back towards her and she exclaimed that if I touched the fruit I would die, and she seemed really concerned for my life. This could have been a true friendship, she really cared about me, but she was mistaken. I tried to show her that touching the fruit was okay, so I shook the base of the tree and made a bunch of fruit fall to the ground, and I picked one up and she saw that nothing bad happened to me, and so she picked up one too. I didn’t make her eat it, but she had been told by the man that if she touched the fruit that she would die, but she wasn’t dying, so I think she started doubting the things that the man had told her, and I didn’t know she was going to do it, but I knew that if she did it, that we would be the same, so I didn’t try to stop her because she cared about me, she had cared about me dying. </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><i>(long pause, breathing heavily...concerned look on his face).</i></span><i><br />
</i><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><i>(everyone in the room is still, staring at the SERPENT with eyes wide. SERPENT slowly stands up, eyes fixed on something in the distance, walks to the middle of the circle and his grip on the ball slowly slackens.)</i></span><i><br />
</i><br />
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">SERPENT: </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><i>(softer voice, almost child-like)</i></span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">...and she took a bite. As soon as she did I knew something bad had happened because her face went white like she had seen a ghost. She told me to eat as well, so I did, I was so concerned with what had happened, I didn’t want her to be alone in what she had done. As soon as I had taken a bite, I saw it. The angel of death. It stood before me. Judging me. The woman was beautiful. But she went around, crazy, driven to get every living creature, including man, to eat the fruit. She didn’t tell them it was the forbidden fruit, she just got them to eat it. She was so beautiful. I could have loved her, but the things I had longed for were further away now than they were before. I could see it now. I knew what I had done. I had just wanted friends, I just wanted to be accepted and loved...but the situation was not in my favor and I was not favored by God, ever, before or after...and I was punished, severely. I didn’t mean for the terrible things that had happened...I just wanted someone to care for me, and she did...but then she took a bite, all because I shook the tree. I could have just let her think that touching the fruit was a bad idea, but no...I needed her...and now I can never be accepted, by any creatures. I’m the outcast. </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><i>(almost a whisper, the ball finally falls from his hands and bounces away)</i></span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> I was too smart for my own good...I caused it all to happen. But I didn’t mean to...</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><i>(voice trails off)</i></span><i><br />
</i><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><i>(everyone in the room has remained still. SERPENT moves back to his seat, head in his hands. THERAPIST looks at him and at the ball, still on the floor. She slowly gets up, picks up the ball, and sits back down in her seat. She looks at SERPENT)</i></span></div><div><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><i><br />
</i></span></div><div><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium; font-style: normal; white-space: normal;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">THERAPIST: (</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium; font-style: normal; white-space: normal;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><i>comforting</i></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium; font-style: normal; white-space: normal;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">). Thank you, Serpent, that was wonderful. Now, Cain...</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium; font-style: normal; white-space: normal;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><i>(hands CAIN the ball, he takes it hesitantly)</i></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium; font-style: normal; white-space: normal;"><br />
</span></i></span></div><div><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times; font-size: medium; font-style: normal; white-space: normal;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: Arial; font-size: 11pt; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><i><br />
</i></span></span></i></span></div></div>Stacyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06484283952690289547noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7813602248953109688.post-58921123291555375792010-09-23T16:15:00.001-05:002010-09-23T16:16:03.958-05:00Illuminate<div class="postbody" style="clear: left; color: #555555; font-family: Arial, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 1.2em; line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0.7em; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px; text-overflow: ellipsis;"><div style="line-height: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">In life, much happens. You live, you learn, and then you die.<br />
At birth, there is an automatic power on the infant, whenever you have need<br />
someone comes.<br />
Evolving into adolescence is difficult, not only because of the changes physiologically,<br />
but there is so much ideologically that is thrust upon you.<br />
Entering into adulthood, you embrace all of the ideologies.<br />
And you choose a few thinking they are the most important.<br />
Republican. Democrat.<br />
Chocolate ice cream. Vanilla ice cream.<br />
Religious. Non-religious.<br />
Homo. Hetero.<br />
Dogs. Cats.<br />
Beef. Chicken.<br />
The choices go on and on and on and on.<br />
The problem with this thinking is that there is always one way of doing something.<br />
Do you put the toilet paper on the roll to pull up or to pull down? These questions are trivial, sometimes, and life changing, other times. The problem is not in the answers, but the idea that there needs to be answers.<br />
Why must you explain away an idea and in doing so, explain away someone else’s idea. The problem is in the questioning.<br />
Is there anything to solve this problem?<br />
Why must we decide?<br />
Why must the terms “right” and wrong” be thrown away flippantly?<br />
The solution is that the answers are everything.<br />
No one is the same.<br />
No one makes the same choices.<br />
No one has the same background.<br />
No one needs to the same things.<br />
No one has the same opportunities.<br />
No one...<br />
...can tell me I am wrong in </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">my</span></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"> ideas. Ideas are sacred.<br />
<br />
When one looks at the world through a tainted lens, one cannot help to see exactly what one is supposed to see. When one walks around with a metaphorical blindness, and has to feel around in order to make sense of things without getting the full story, one gets a distorted picture of reality.<br />
Reality is a relative thing, as it cannot be truly known by any one culture. We exist within a portion of reality, as the world knows it. Reality can be worked towards through the illumination of the mind and the senses in the cold cut reality that we exist with the “other.”<br />
This existence is a marvelous thing should it be grasped towards....but people do not. People are much more comfortable reaching around in the darkness, making assumptions about things that they have not yet seen nor understood. These assumptions are the downfall of humanity.<br />
<br />
Ignorance. Illumination.<br />
<br />
The most important choice is a difficult one...</span></span> </div></div>Stacyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06484283952690289547noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7813602248953109688.post-51364988514781491862010-07-20T00:47:00.000-05:002010-07-20T00:47:17.468-05:00MercyMonths have passed and my blog has been neglected. Enough said...<br />
<br />
A few days ago, I found myself revisiting a thought I had during one of Dr. Tom Boyd's classes this past semester. The course was titled, "Religion & Ethics in a Global Perspective." This class was truly remarkable, not because of the title of the course, but because Tom Boyd is an exceptional professor that truly inspires those around him to think about everything that one took for granted.<br />
<br />
What is mercy? Is it a quality that can expressed by humans in regards to other humans? Does mercy assume that one deserves a specific kind of treatment and when one does not get said treatment that can be merciful? This has been something that has been bothering me for a few months. I haven't just been sitting in my house pining over this idea, but I am curious. Can humans actually grant someone mercy - true mercy? Or is mercy an entirely divine quality? Can mercy only be given by a divinity or something that is inherently perfect, someone who would not need mercy for themselves? This is intriguing, and I know it's not that important, but something that I have just been considering...<br />
<br />
What does it actually mean for God to be merciful? I know that this is something that is taught in kid's sunday school and at certain churches, but what does it mean? It assumes that we need mercy, so it assumes imperfection and the need for some type of reconciliation, otherwise, there would be no need for mercy. So can humans grant mercy upon others?<br />
<br />
My opinion, while it is still developing, is that humans cannot grant mercy...there is nothing that is within the ability of created things to grant mercy upon other created things - they are all of the same creation...but God, being "non-created," can be merciful in nature because of the mere reason that God lacks being created....but this is all up in the air still...<br />
<br />
Long hiatus. Hope it does not turn in to that again...<br />
<br />
It's late.Stacyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06484283952690289547noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7813602248953109688.post-47620963747826969972010-02-12T20:38:00.001-06:002010-02-12T20:47:58.081-06:00Free-FallingI graduate in December. I am currently in the process of thinking, with Rich, about the prospect of grad school, starting a family, etc. I am thoroughly enjoying learning and thinking and being put into situations that require much effort to put aside my own personal bias and work through the situation to decide what exactly is going on. To be completely honest with my blog, this has been intensely overwhelming, for several reasons. In order to do well within my studies, I have been forced to think outside of the box in which everything I was ever taught growing up resided. This has been tumultuous and trying at best. I have welcomed discussion and challenging thoughts from professors and especially the challenges from my husband. My biggest fear throughout this entire process (which I don't think will end EVER- the process, that is), is that I would change into something other than the person that my Hubby decided he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. Now, if anyone reads this, I'm sure you are currently thinking (especially if you know Rich), that this is the most absurd thought that could have ever crossed my mind. When I did finally admit this to Rich he very <i>lovingly</i> told me I was crazy. HA! He then went on to reassure me that he completely supports my education, as far as I want to go whether that is just receiving a BA or if that means getting Ph.D after Ph.D! I know he was trying to lighten my somber mood and this in one of MANY reasons why I love him. I say all of this to admit that I am terrified of the journey that I have decided to embark on, but I am fearful that if I do not take such a journey, I will remain ignorant of my own faith and will take every experience in the past two years for granted. God has blessed me more than I could ever know, from my wonderfully caring and supportive parents and sister who have always loved me (there was never any inkling of a doubt about this), to struggling through poverty with my husband the first few years of marriage (which we are still in, and completely content with), to moving us to Oklahoma even though this was the scariest decision we have ever made and showing us that even though Rich's new job and our new church (which is already difficult in itself, for anyone who has ever been in church-ministry!) and showing us the most faceted and loving group of people that have ever been in either of our lives! There have been CRAZY struggles, and they are by no means over, but God has been so merciful to us to give us such wonderfully life-changing experiences.<br />
<br />
I have made personal strides in my own faith and I have yet to know if I am ever going to be okay with where I am spiritually, but I love thinking and learning and experiencing discussion with those different from myself and becoming more aware of the world in which I am so radically being exposed to, whether I am ready for it or not. My prayer in this season of life is that I continue to question and continue to challenge what I have always just taken for granted. I want my faith to continue to be my own, whatever that ends up looking like! Grad school, seminary, becoming a mom, or whatever, I know that I can continue to rely on those around me and that right now, I am content with free-falling!!<br />
<br />
A now, a relevant cartoon:<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxzACQer_YLFFFh2-WGX7vPLuwGzYEBGDmja8-EKI6IliUqTQJ_EDwJ0EEeRNBWQjYXEaBBN6qC44waxLFBR54bBmCx5vQMl2I0jBBLSRYnLsdqCNufn39gL-u1DPSk88GVO9WXAC9Rwm4/s1600-h/i-have.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="380" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxzACQer_YLFFFh2-WGX7vPLuwGzYEBGDmja8-EKI6IliUqTQJ_EDwJ0EEeRNBWQjYXEaBBN6qC44waxLFBR54bBmCx5vQMl2I0jBBLSRYnLsdqCNufn39gL-u1DPSk88GVO9WXAC9Rwm4/s400/i-have.gif" width="400" /></a></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="white-space: pre;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">http://www.cartoonchurch.com/content/cc/i-have/</span></span></span></div>Stacyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06484283952690289547noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7813602248953109688.post-36227944617260378862010-01-29T21:22:00.000-06:002010-01-29T21:22:24.974-06:00Day 2 of "Snow-pocalypse" 2010Today, I baked.<br />
<br />
I have been wanting to bake bread from scratch for a very long time. However, the time that it actually takes to make the bread has always been the inhibiting factor. I have not had 3-4 consecutive hours that I could sit at home and bake bread without having to go somewhere or NOT stay up until 2 in the morning baking bread. So, on the second snow day, I decided that I would try and find the ingredients in my cabinets to make something...ANYTHING, and MUCH to my surprise, I had all the ingredients to make a White Bread. So, I called my mom and she emailed me the recipe that she uses and I basically, after much hesitation and even more encouragement from others, went to town on my bread! (Now, I'm excited because I don't actually now how it's going to turn out because I am writing this as it is sitting in a bowl with a towel over it and rising...so we'll see if my enthusiasm is still existent AFTER the bread has been baked, cooled, and tasted!)<br />
<br />
***after the baking is complete!<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">Here is the bread once everything was mixed together - RIGHT before I started kneeding it...</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEin39s4J080kxn5ud783TPGOmI1Nim5aIe8yhFijDtKshsSWYm5BU84KMYVyiTyMqNt-Oj1IA2LlrtzBqwmxCO8FxIAyRsNjR8c2cDWZlqGt_gqF0lumSt85fyL88ffC9yJMaEKjf8qhchR/s1600-h/IMG_0472.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" kt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEin39s4J080kxn5ud783TPGOmI1Nim5aIe8yhFijDtKshsSWYm5BU84KMYVyiTyMqNt-Oj1IA2LlrtzBqwmxCO8FxIAyRsNjR8c2cDWZlqGt_gqF0lumSt85fyL88ffC9yJMaEKjf8qhchR/s320/IMG_0472.jpg" /></a></div></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">The bread in the bowl, waiting to rise (You can even see where I poked it TWICE just to make sure it was ready!)</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNy9mXQ_S-bSU3_KufM0Q9Sy6KCLS_WOXJf9eJU1klkydz6pGx5PJQzFgvZ1M9Yvuz4985eJOGArhsHcY6o7Bx496yX3et3OxCCp5RFcQ-TIa4IuGw1T-UqoTSoJueOfxGyUrTk4BkNSBl/s1600-h/IMG_0474.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" kt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNy9mXQ_S-bSU3_KufM0Q9Sy6KCLS_WOXJf9eJU1klkydz6pGx5PJQzFgvZ1M9Yvuz4985eJOGArhsHcY6o7Bx496yX3et3OxCCp5RFcQ-TIa4IuGw1T-UqoTSoJueOfxGyUrTk4BkNSBl/s320/IMG_0474.jpg" /></a></div></div><div style="text-align: center;">This is the bread punched out and rolled up into two pans (one was a little deformed...next time I'll fix that) :)</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsiIt-VSOhee6y54UTEFgdxJX8-419gihCVPsB-lWBBo1x2pzwburqFOaA1kEEzmGFOU-Ofz9kP-uWm-yFs667xj4cV1cl5_cfoBXl4Wx2NolvhSfC6V2HGG9gqp4XuoEGGgKwqpPoYVne/s1600-h/IMG_0475.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" kt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsiIt-VSOhee6y54UTEFgdxJX8-419gihCVPsB-lWBBo1x2pzwburqFOaA1kEEzmGFOU-Ofz9kP-uWm-yFs667xj4cV1cl5_cfoBXl4Wx2NolvhSfC6V2HGG9gqp4XuoEGGgKwqpPoYVne/s320/IMG_0475.jpg" /></a></div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Halfway through the rising process</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPOzSbZ0ESdVx1Ih-tRbK5YD36-T4ZE9IEMXR88lE6nfe0n9uL-Uowmk7VNZ_3q_q4kWKimcQwYRzTSdmugMDVenbWhgySSgSnPHV77bAwbRK8d6MaBGOf4tsFZtgAb1oyEoqOOtWf0K_f/s1600-h/IMG_0476.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" kt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPOzSbZ0ESdVx1Ih-tRbK5YD36-T4ZE9IEMXR88lE6nfe0n9uL-Uowmk7VNZ_3q_q4kWKimcQwYRzTSdmugMDVenbWhgySSgSnPHV77bAwbRK8d6MaBGOf4tsFZtgAb1oyEoqOOtWf0K_f/s320/IMG_0476.jpg" /></a></div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">Finished with rising</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibRj3Y87ogfh2zQ6yjvvoipRhvkQ-EIJ803VxFzrPUrPn7kf96MrIr8XxdvLoOSQw3vVKlyttWw8nuHhMzEiLv_QXFWYJSMOTG_UudmrU9aEFuW1nrjd-Iijk1QdlJaQVjOKAsN_dkinok/s1600-h/IMG_0477.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" kt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibRj3Y87ogfh2zQ6yjvvoipRhvkQ-EIJ803VxFzrPUrPn7kf96MrIr8XxdvLoOSQw3vVKlyttWw8nuHhMzEiLv_QXFWYJSMOTG_UudmrU9aEFuW1nrjd-Iijk1QdlJaQVjOKAsN_dkinok/s320/IMG_0477.jpg" /></a></div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">After spraying Butter-flavored Cooking Spray on the top so it browned nicely, here is the result!</div><div style="text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgK599lmEGTJqbaxhaAsufDCKQ-v-fRYq1K8ucuAnieLJ4wKBWbOici4kf54YlKa_scoXeP6bQ1UVqcD67hGRtn8GtSS08ifw0RZWxKc0zRZNgyQYUEz2DYCpZoIS4asSyX4i2wF300EmdZ/s1600-h/IMG_0478.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" kt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgK599lmEGTJqbaxhaAsufDCKQ-v-fRYq1K8ucuAnieLJ4wKBWbOici4kf54YlKa_scoXeP6bQ1UVqcD67hGRtn8GtSS08ifw0RZWxKc0zRZNgyQYUEz2DYCpZoIS4asSyX4i2wF300EmdZ/s320/IMG_0478.jpg" /></a></div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">AND...here is me having a sandwich! YUM!</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhR3s0M3L7oholTrxUN0w01yJ_bk6LU4y2t1N57mdKh4t9dWB6u3fd_y9eLT2Rqx2UmuhrKkbZvPDFgpj8BiQdlz_zEITx3uy2oiHEesuZGWJSIP0gKT8CoqV_XCqKZ-XfkaLtB7VaF6phw/s1600-h/IMG_0479.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" kt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhR3s0M3L7oholTrxUN0w01yJ_bk6LU4y2t1N57mdKh4t9dWB6u3fd_y9eLT2Rqx2UmuhrKkbZvPDFgpj8BiQdlz_zEITx3uy2oiHEesuZGWJSIP0gKT8CoqV_XCqKZ-XfkaLtB7VaF6phw/s320/IMG_0479.jpg" /></a></div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">After my successful, first time, making bread...I decided that I would follow in the footsteps of my pastor's wife and try my hand at cinnamon rolls. Now, I'm not a HUGE fan of cinnamon rolls, Hubby is, so I whipped up a batch. When it was time to make the icing, I realized I did not have cream cheese, so I created a simple sugar/milk/vanilla mixture that had a similar consistency and sweetness (without the hint of tart with the cream cheese) and really feel like it couldn't have turned out any better as a pulled-together-last-minute-something-being-used-as-a-substitute kind of thing!</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOPcURj7zHhsWCDaC_IufAUYAVekK3r5LBgLJ5frHTWOTaCDQBz5LxRRZtG6fCiFNJ1XLqkkFeJuiJ7xWm19bwa-76l0VhKpIBO56OuI20zc9GYNNfUmnHcJiYbw7s4F0KCoTd1Ro-hGj-/s1600-h/IMG_0480.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" kt="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOPcURj7zHhsWCDaC_IufAUYAVekK3r5LBgLJ5frHTWOTaCDQBz5LxRRZtG6fCiFNJ1XLqkkFeJuiJ7xWm19bwa-76l0VhKpIBO56OuI20zc9GYNNfUmnHcJiYbw7s4F0KCoTd1Ro-hGj-/s320/IMG_0480.jpg" /></a></div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">All in all, it was a VERY productive day on my part, and I have a blog to show for it as well!</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><span id="goog_1264804356728"></span><span id="goog_1264804356729"></span>Stacyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06484283952690289547noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7813602248953109688.post-64497111990880058052009-11-29T21:15:00.001-06:002009-11-29T21:27:32.735-06:00Generic Meds Are My Heroes!For the past several days I have been developing some sort of sickness. To this moment, I'm not 100% sure of what exactly it was, but it was no fun. It started the day after Thanksgiving with normal allergy-like symptoms, I took some DayQuil and didn't really worry about it (even though it never really helped). However, by Saturday night it had progressed into something that was no longer ONLY allergies (as I had fooled myself into thinking), and I was desperately in need of some meds, yet unwilling to leave the comfort of my warm bed to go get them. Luckily, I have a truly remarkable Hubby who called when he was leaving work and said, "What do you want me to get you from the store? What do you need medicine for? And are you hungry at all? Soup?," etc.<br />
<br />
It was marvelous to hear! He came back with some food and these meds (that's right, we ONLY get the good stuff - generic all the way!)<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_XIqx-uzukfwhYlDgLNF6Orv8dKs6tJ0dmpAkfDqWiuB0SbQ9PGzy-9gqtcIZ9tilDWeydHVc6Ug6a6F8ogvrd7sdj5NuQP_rPqAXwZCU983AGPRrkSV8beXI9vENo-ph5S5vEED3wLai/s1600/0060538866146_215X215.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_XIqx-uzukfwhYlDgLNF6Orv8dKs6tJ0dmpAkfDqWiuB0SbQ9PGzy-9gqtcIZ9tilDWeydHVc6Ug6a6F8ogvrd7sdj5NuQP_rPqAXwZCU983AGPRrkSV8beXI9vENo-ph5S5vEED3wLai/s200/0060538866146_215X215.jpg" /></a><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">AND<br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4rtLzD5DnnqtMj0rSevHgmUyoQq1_ZXNplQtZW9SXDYKku2JPGK5b0ECSTonBU4lIjRxHpZajPzjse064mWm49t6cc4Zp6x7p8A2h1fCqp7Wizbut_apaXseX4ParPmOR3GNfKDWChmkM/s1600/0009110810120_215X215.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4rtLzD5DnnqtMj0rSevHgmUyoQq1_ZXNplQtZW9SXDYKku2JPGK5b0ECSTonBU4lIjRxHpZajPzjse064mWm49t6cc4Zp6x7p8A2h1fCqp7Wizbut_apaXseX4ParPmOR3GNfKDWChmkM/s200/0009110810120_215X215.jpg" width="200" /></a><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Almost 24 hours since the first dosage (PLUS Cough Syrup for my symptoms) and I feel about 75-80% normal! I'm not one to enjoy going to the doctor - in fact I pretty much loathe it with every fiber of my being, and find it needlessly costly to go to someone and have them say "It's only a sinus infection, go rest" when I can just medicate myself like crazy and get better! (Plus, then you have the war stories like: I took a dayquil, some cough medicine, a dosage of airbourne, some zinc drops and slept for 12 hours!)<br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">All of this to say, "Hubby knows best!" He's such a great man and takes really great care of me. He even brought me ELF, the movie, from the living room where it resides in the entertainment center when I asked him to get it while laying in bed in the bedroom! :) GOOD MAN!<br />
</div>Stacyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06484283952690289547noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7813602248953109688.post-33676498242199316002009-11-22T22:21:00.001-06:002009-11-22T22:53:45.296-06:00A Break From Paper Writing<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjR1K0Y5Q_Id5VPl0-76jbmyYCEVBh4s7I7GkDbbXcwByk9YrO4led6bwh0Ldd1wMPLD3rM9lOVcqm-jTbUVT_wFgg254fOd1cFcaym_8aKceRdqQO2JiVbCdwDDfa1eRXGSIoSomdantFT/s1600/procrastination.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjR1K0Y5Q_Id5VPl0-76jbmyYCEVBh4s7I7GkDbbXcwByk9YrO4led6bwh0Ldd1wMPLD3rM9lOVcqm-jTbUVT_wFgg254fOd1cFcaym_8aKceRdqQO2JiVbCdwDDfa1eRXGSIoSomdantFT/s400/procrastination.gif" /></a><br />
</div>A new blog post! Crazy, I know...but this one has to do a little with procrastinating about a paper I am working on.<br />
<br />
I am in a course called, "Christian Heresies" and it is absolutely wonderful! Not growing up having any knowledge of church history - due to being a Baptist and never really talking about any of this in church (just stating a reality), I am learning so much about where the "church" has come from and I have lots of opinions about this, not that this is the place to share them, but I'm trying to take a break, if you will, from my paper.<br />
<br />
I would just like to say that I feel like somewhat of a skeptic about Constantine. I'm talking about my paper, yes...you may not want to read any more (if anyone does read this), because I just have to free write, and then get back to my "formal" writing for the paper....here it goes:<br />
<br />
Maybe I'm right on the money, but more than likely, I'm being crazy skeptical and judgemental about poor Constantine, the Great. I've decided that he was kind of in the business of Christianity for the political power that he saw it bringing him. I know some believe that he actually converted to Christianity, and maybe he did, I don't know...but I have a hard time believing that he saw a vision of a Chi Rho, put it on the shield or whatever of his soldiers, won the battle, THEN decided to convert to Christianity, and it was all genuine...(like I said, the probability of this being judgemental is great). The poor Emperor got shysted out of being emperor in the first place, then eventually became emperor, and in that day, whoever won the battles in the name of whatever 'god' they were fighting for was the 'god' that was worshipped...so like I said, I think it was all a political maneuver on his part...especially all the council of nicea business...<br />
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Eusebius: Here's my Creed, see, it works!<br />
Constantine: Sounds great, let's do that!<br />
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COUNCIL: NO! What are you thinking? It's too broad, even Arius could agree! [gasps of horror]<br />
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Constantine: Oh...well, then....Ossius, how about you go talk to Arius and Alexander and get them to be friends again<br />
Ossius: Okay, I guess I could do that, what are they fighting about, again?<br />
Constantine: idk...just go moderate, see you soon!<br />
Ossius: peace, bro!<br />
<br />
Ossius: Hey, Arius, Alex, why can't we all just get along? [campaigns for hugs]<br />
Arius: Alex sucks, we could never get along!<br />
Alex: Yeah, I will never agree with Arius. I'm rubber, he's glue, whatever bounces off of me sticks to him! [sticks tongue out]<br />
Ossius: Oh, well, I didn't really know what was going on anyway, so...coo! Hasta la vista!<br />
<br />
Constantine: Crap, Ossius couldn't help...I guess I better call a council...<br />
<br />
COUNCIL: We hate Arius, let's just make something that says EVERYTHING opposite of what Arius thinks, then we can call that orthodoxy!<br />
COUNCIL (In unison, minus several members): SWEET!<br />
<br />
COUNCIL (above stated, several members): So....Constantine, we don't really agree with this creed, can we have more time to think on it?<br />
Constantine: Freakin' idiots - NO! I need everyone to be happy and get along! Sign the dotted line for goodness's sake and get on with it, it's not the end of the world! I'll excommunicate you if you don't!<br />
COUNCIL (above states, several members): [scared and hesitant] ...okay<br />
<br />
Constantine: Sweet, unity! Now everything will be grand, the Christian God will bless my empire and I'll die rich and prosperous!<br />
<br />
{end scene}<br />
<br />
If only I could see Constantine as genuine...but it's a little difficult. I think it was nice of him to create the Edict of Milan with Licinius...but I just don't know about this whole..."I'm gonna make Christianity the religion of the Empire and everyone has to follow it how I want it to be run, or else they are heretics! Burn 'em all...the heretics that is"....I guess I don't see that...<br />
<br />
Anyway, now that I was able to express the cartoonish scenario going on in my head, I must get back to said paper....<br />
<br />
(Don't hate me because I'm opinionated - I absolutely could be wrong...that's why it's an opinion...)<br />
<br />
Peace, bros!Stacyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06484283952690289547noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7813602248953109688.post-86794590391495340472009-11-13T10:37:00.000-06:002009-11-13T10:37:37.846-06:00Response to a Public ForumLast night, I attended a Public Forum at the United Ministry Center on Campus entitled, "Why are We So Mean?" There were four panelists, two of whom I knew, and two others, all who were either ministers or professors (or variations of both). As I listened to all the conjecture, some I agreed with and some I did not, I had a little revelation of my own as to the possible cause of this "meanness" that is becoming so much more a part of the public square.<br />
<br />
The world is becoming more global. Within the past, even 10 years, we have been bombarded with international news/culture/fashion/political issues/etc. There is so much more being thrown out there now than there used to be. This is not entirely a bad thing, in itself, I personally think that it is important to know what is going on in the world. That being said, it is inevitable that we are becoming a much more globally minded people.<br />
<br />
I think this very simple fact is causing a lot of unrest and distress within people (on a very internal and personal level, possibly even subconsciously).<br />
<br />
With everything new being brought to light and having to adapt in order to live in this type of world we are now living in, it is unsettling because "I no longer have to worry about just ME, in my community, but I have to worry about ME and my world, and what that looks like". I think that people, in the past century, have found themselves and were comfortable in their society because they knew their place in that society. This was something that was a given and a constant and they could rely on knowing who they were in relation to the 500 other people that they encountered on any given day. Now, however, there are international affairs affecting the lives of people in our own neighborhoods, there are inter-religious squabbles that are more prominent because people don't know how to react to all of this "new" ideology and they become insecure (not necessarily even knowingly) with themselves and how the "me" relates to the world now.<br />
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"me" has become so much smaller in a sense and the need to define "me" is so important, because one does not want to become just another random person in the mix, "me" still needs to know where I stand on things, what I believe, and so because of this....we have become so much more staunch in our debates, in our conversations with friends, and we will not back down in public discourse because to abandon "me" would be the worst thing one could do in the current global situation. (Or so we come to think).<br />
<br />
This is all an opinion, and my opinion, so please take it with a grain of salt. (Not trying to start things, just sharing!) :)<br />
<br />
I see the "mean" that is out there and the apparent need for it to always become an "us vs. them" type of ideology in almost ANY arena - not even being confined to the taboo subjects of religion and politics, but in more and more of what we talk about even with our friends and families. Why does it have to be an "us vs. them?" What makes "us" any better? Why can we not approach another human being and have the same decency given to them that we expect them to give to us? It seems very arrogant and ignorant to expect one to respect your opinions yet in return, slap them in the face with rhetoric and then be offended by what they say....<br />
<br />
The public forum was very interesting and brought to light some very serious things that are happening and need to be resolved. Just thought I would share!<br />
<br />
:)Stacyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06484283952690289547noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7813602248953109688.post-36976669373779030292009-09-30T12:31:00.000-05:002009-09-30T12:31:11.457-05:00Sweet, Sweet Restaurant "Q"This is long overdue...my apologies. I WANT to write blogs more often, but because of the fact that my laptop is not super reliable, I tend to not even want to deal with it...but here I am, again!<div><br />
</div><div>I think that, unfortunately, this is going to be a post about waiting tables. Yes, I am a server at a local restaurant...a fairly popular restaurant if I do say so myself...and others would agree, but I'm not going to state the name...so we're just going to call it "Q" (for this particular blog's sake).</div><div><br />
</div><div>Working at Q has it's good and bad moments...there isn't really mostly one or the other, it's a pretty even amalgamation of good and bad - and most always interesting! The mis-conception by the general public is that most servers are not very intelligent and only wait tables because there is nothing better out there. As true as this may be for some, it is VERY MUCH SO not the case for all, and I am positive that it is not even the case for most. That being said, the establishment where I am employed, Q, is full of people that are trying to finish their degrees, and trying to support their families while having a VERY flexible schedules that they can work as a second job or as a part-time job while their spouse or significant other has another or better paying job. Most of the people I work with are very pleasant people and I thoroughly love hearing about their lives and experiences, because you honestly...cannot make up a lot of this stuff - both good and bad.</div><div><br />
</div><div>Customers, on the other hand....let's just say that...just like the average customer of a restaurant has pre conceived notions of the staff "serving" them, the server has the same preconceived notions about them. Whether right or wrong, from the server's perspective (as I am one), most of the time, the mis/pre conceptions tend to fall close to, if not right on, the mark. This is not always the case, thank God...because most of the time, it's probably something negative that is stereotyped to the customer. (For better or worse...that's just how it is).</div><div><br />
</div><div>Now...don't hear me saying that all customers are slime...because that is NOT the case at ALL! Most customers though, fall much more easily into the stereotypical customer categories....for instance, and please don't be offended if you are reading this and happen to find yourself similar to one of these categories, this is what MOST servers think about these stereotypes (and yes...you probably ARE the exception...)</div><div><br />
</div><div>Not being PC, here we go (and again, yes...there are exceptions...but that is all they are: exceptions):</div><div><br />
</div><div>* Old People: generally don't tip well. They also, don't want to be bothered. You almost have to sense when they're ready to order, and then once they have their food, don't talk to them again until they are finished! You're probably going to get 10% at least...15% if you're AMAZING...if you HAPPEN to get 20%, WOAH! You've done something amazing or they're just amazing people that want to bless the socks off you! And 20% from anyone 55+ is a GREAT tip...stereotypically speaking.</div><div><br />
</div><div>* Families with teens: generally don't tip well and are VERY NEEDY! If you can keep up with every little thing they need, then you might get 15%. The problem here is, these families, because they have teenagers (and especially if they're boys), will rack up a bill, just because they are order big plates, and then see it and say, "How did 4 people manage to get a bill for $65?!" and will then proceed to leave a $5-$8 tip. This isn't seen as a issue for the family...because they just paid freakin' $65 in one hour...and what did the waiter do, right? They just got refills, and the order correct....that's not even worth $2.</div><div><br />
</div><div>* Families with young children: These aren't as easy to give ONE stereotype, so I give them two categories:</div><div> 1) They expect to have a terrible evening because their children are going to fuss and complain and be a huge burden and then they are going to be in a bad mood all night, and it will reflect in the tip 10-15%.</div><div> 2) They go in with more realistic expectations and feel bad if their kid is a pain, and as long as they are reassured that it IS okay, they are only 3...it's understood and have the feeling that the server wants to give them a good experience genuinely, then you can generally expect 15-20% (But the server also has to approach the table differently).</div><div><br />
</div><div>* Couples (Older than high school***) on a date: If the guy pays, you can expect a 15-20% tip. Mainly, I think, because the man feels like he needs to tip well because it's a nice occasion and they're on a date and had already planned on spending money. Now, if the woman pays, it's generally not a good tip - and I'm not exactly sure why. But generally speaking, that's just how it is.</div><div>***(High schoolers NEVER tip well, it doesn't matter what the situation is, they just never tip. So I'm not even going to go there...because it never happens)</div><div><br />
</div><div>* "Big Tops" (Large Groups of People - anything that requires tables being pushed together - 7+) - these groups need to be split up into different categories;</div><div> 1) Parties of 6-7 that one CANNOT add gratuity to: these parties are generally good tippers, and even BETTER tippers if the checks are split up, as much time and effort that takes the server, the more you split the tickets, the better people tip...and the reason is: if one sees $174.32 and the bill, one is not going to leave me a $40 tip on TOP of that huge bill - BUT, if 7 people see $15.00, they will generally tip the 15-20% just because it was a large group of people and I think they feel bad for the server.</div><div> 2) Parties of 8+, when a grat is involved: This is a little more complicated. For instance, I had a 20 person table once, it was someone's party. The gratuity at restaurant Q is 18%...more than the average person tips out - so OBVIOUSLY I'm going to add the grat. It's common sense, and a "hey, you did great!" on a comment card doesn't pay the bills - sorry people, it doesn't! These people apparently were offended that I grat-ed them...and let me know that they were good tippers and don't like gratuity added because they tip well. So what did they do? Didn't leave any more of a tip? Why? To spite me? I don't really know...but I am NOT going to chance the rare "great tipper" on a $300 ticket...it's NOT going to happen. You can always leave more than the grat, so if you really are great tippers, did you not leave more of a tip to SHOW me that you were great tippers - because that definitely doesn't show me anything about you being a good tipper...moving on...</div><div>-moral of this is, "I grat because I need to, not because I think you, personally, aren't going to tip me (even though I do think that). Blame everyone else for not tipping if you are going to take it personally." :)</div><div> 3) Teen parties of 8+, like my disclaimer above stated, teens don't EVER tip well. EVER! It doesn't happen. So, it really sucks when they come in with 10 of their closest friends and all either JUST eat the complimentary items or share meals and just get one meal item and nothing else. They are also the neediest customers because they need refills all the time of drinks, complimentary items, etc. Also, they tend to, regardless of the ticket cost, complain about how expensive everything is. That's what you get when you eat out - so when they come in with $15, and their ticket is $14.04, They are angsty about leaving me a dollar...they are, you see it in their face when I bring them back a dollar as their change, it's like they want to ask me for change for a dollar and then leave me $0.50 or something. Anyway, teens HATE being grat-ed because then they HAVE to tip and they didn't plan on that and sometimes they didn't bring enough money. More often than any other customers, I have to go back to teens and say, "I'm sorry, the bill was $17.43 and you only gave me $15....</div><div><br />
</div><div>Am I cynical? Maybe a little? Probably. I love waiting tables....I do. Most days. It is very interesting to see different types of people and how they act in public. It's fascinating that people would actually do the things that they end up doing a lot of the time, and I'm getting great stories - you can't make up this kind of stuff...seriously...you'd have to be a psycho-path...</div><div><br />
</div><div>Those are just a few stereotypes, but honestly, not everyone DOES fall in to those, but most people do. And the harsh reality of the restaurant business is that people, more often than not, treat you according to the stereotype you fit into. Most people don't want to make the extra effort to <i>not</i> judge a table based on stereotype, but when that is the majority, it is so much more difficult. People just need to learn to tip. Servers only get paid $2/hour, and a lot of the time, the "Tip Share" that gets taken out, gets taken directly out of the cost of the meal, not the tip left. Here's the math:</div><div><br />
</div><div>4 people eat, ticket is $60, tip is $10</div><div><br />
</div><div>approx 4% of the cost of the meal automatically gets taken out for the busboys and hostesses: $60x0.04</div><div>=$2.50(ish)</div><div><br />
</div><div>Now, the tip has decreased to $7.50</div><div><br />
</div><div>The table ordered 3 maragaritas - that's $0.50/drink for the bartender, so now the tip is down to $6.00</div><div><br />
</div><div>I know that it doesn't seem like that big of a deal, but when eating out, people need to realize that the server does NOT take home all of the tip that is left. Maybe people do realize this and just hate tipping - if you don't like to tip, go to Whataburger, there's one in Moore now...</div><div><br />
</div><div>I am not bitter, I understand the reality of this, and I've accepted the fact that most people don't know how to tip, but you know what the WORST part of this is...there is one stereotype that I have left out for a reason:</div><div><br />
</div><div>* Christians/Sunday Lunchers - this group, as a whole, is by far and wide the worst tippers of the bunch. I've heard stories from people who have waited on PASTORS - and what did the pastors leave? Nothing. No money at all. They might leave a church bulletin though, or a business card with "We'd love to have you visit!" written on it...or the worst, a tract, that basically says, "You're going to hell if you don't do: A, B, and C". This breaks my heart.</div><div><br />
</div><div>What in the WORLD suggests to a Christian that it would behoove the server much more to leave them a "tip" about "salvation"...because isn't that what it's about? "BY YOUR FRUITS YOU SHALL KNOW THEM!" Does that even mean anything? What are you telling this random server, who obviously didn't go to church that morning because they're waiting on YOU, when you don't tip them....you're definitely NOT telling them that you love them, or that you want them to do well in life and here's a little extra just because I want to bless you, because you're a human just like I am...</div><div><br />
</div><div>I'm on my soapbox, but I'm not being irrelevant here. Ask any server what the worst shift of the week is for them, and they will say Sunday afternoon. It will be busy, yes, and they might make more than they would on a slow Tuesday lunch shift, but for the volume of people served, and the amount of tables they had that shift, I guarantee that the tip precentages/table are higher ANY other shift than on Sunday lunch shifts. That's sorry...and as Christians, we're shooting ourselves in the feet, because there are GREAT people that are serving tables, who deserve the knowledge of the love of Christ as much as anyone...and they have this idea in their heads that, "Why would I want to go to church, the church people are the worst customers...I'm just fine with the people I hang out with, they're at least nicer".</div><div><br />
</div><div>Ugh...anyway...</div><div><br />
</div><div>I'm not trying to say everyone is like this, because I know they're not. I have amazing tippers at times, and I have people that leave without paying ANY of the bill...it happens, that's reality. But my main thing is, that Christians are called to love others, just as Christ loved the church - you love them through all of their mistakes and their crap and their misconceptions, you love them regardless. Because if you read the book of Hosea, about the Israelites being "whores" to God...that's a really tough way to love others...but that is what we're called to do. So why can't we do it? We're not any better than the person that serves us food, and we're not any better than the people that wipe up our garbage and our mess when we're finished with it...</div><div><br />
</div><div>I want people to know that I love them regardless, and I AM a Christian - shocker. I want people to know that Christ loves them regardless, and that people are messy and we live imperfect lives, and to not judge too harshly (cough, cough...Sunday tippers), who aren't showing love at all...I NEED these people I work with to know that there is more to my life than what they see from most Christians....</div><div><br />
</div><div>...what mark are we going to leave on the world? As Christians, as a whole...what are we doing? Is it glorifying God? Because in my line of work...it's very grim and dank for Christianity...because who would want to be a part of that, they aren't nice, and they aren't grateful...</div><div><br />
</div><div>Matthew 7:16</div><div>James 2:14-20</div>Stacyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06484283952690289547noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7813602248953109688.post-51926219859074328432009-09-17T21:05:00.000-05:002009-09-17T21:05:38.775-05:00A Little VentIt's been a while, and a lot has happened, but it's not really that exciting, unfortunately...<br />
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There are things in life that I am very passionate about and other things that I'm really NOT at all. And I think that everyone is like this to some extent (except for those people are just good at everything they do...they're just passionate about everything because they do it so well - arg!)<br />
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Some things I am really excited about, and I think most people would agree with this idea, but I get really fired up about my opinions - especially those that I think have some degree of merit to them. Now, I'm not one to force my thoughts on others and I really don't speak up that often because I really don't want to cause conflict or be disareeable, but there are some things that really irk me. So for just a few lines, I need to vent (and Rich has already heard this, haha, many times!)<br />
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In Religious Studies classes, and maybe other classes, too, I don't know...but in my classes, there are people that really just rub my nerves raw because they're really very not intelligent and rather ignorant. Again, I'm not a "pot stirrer", but I just sit there fuming...because when it really comes down to it, I came to a university to learn in an academic setting, I'm not there to be told that "I'm wrong because I am not a Catholic"...really? That's really what you're going to do? Because the class is definitely called, "Greek and Roman Religions"...what does that even have to do with that....?<br />
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Enough on the rant, now on to the real frustration and it really breaks my heart for these types of people, and maybe I fall into this category in some way and that's why it weighs so heavy on my heart, but my thoughts on these people in my classes are this....Most of these people claim to be Christians...and do so VERY ignorantly and outright in the middle of class when there is no relevance at all. You don't need to begin a statement with, "I'm a Christian and I think that...." or "I grew up Baptist, and I think that..." (Why do you have to do that RIGHT before you are about to slap someone in the face or discredit what someone else has questioned as a legitimate academic question in the middle of a geuninely academic setting?!)<br />
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The point...as Christians, are we ignorant? As a whole? Are we? Do we truly care about other people? Or do we only care about furthering our own personal agenda, as Baptists, or Methodists, or Catholics? Because it seems to me...through my classes, that the "Christians" are the most offensive people in the entire class.<br />
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I'm not saying that Christianity is only about "Jesus loves me", there are other things that are also very important like the cross and redemption, etc., but it's true, but he also loves everyone else - so why can't we embrace that in every aspect of life?! Why does it have to change just because you're at school? Are you only at college in religious studies classes to convert everyone there to YOUR faith? Because that's not why I'm in class. I'm there to learn, to become less ignorant, and to walk away with a further understanding of religion as a whole and the psychological, sociological, and theological implications in can have in various aspects of people's lives. There's just so much more to the phenomena that is religion...<br />
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Maybe this is an unjust accusation, but it's been a HUGE frustration as I sit there in class listening to these people first claiming that they're Christians, and then completely putting down someone else...<br />
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I LOVE my degree program and enjoy just about every minute of class time that I have (even the readings are okay a lot of the time)! I know that I will walk away with a degree from the University of Oklahoma and have a much more profound academic knowledge of religion as a whole, and various different religions, and it will help me in life, especially with the globalization that is happening at break-neck speed! <br />
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I just want Christians to not have the idea that breaking someone down will further the kingdom of God...especially when the person being "downed" knows full well you're a Christian because you used that information to justify the insult...Stacyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06484283952690289547noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7813602248953109688.post-17979392759119424872009-09-02T11:53:00.001-05:002009-09-02T16:31:35.176-05:00Dedicated to FoodFor those of you who do not know, which is probably everyone, minus 2 or 3, I am involved in an on-campus organization called InterVarsity (IV). These past few weeks, IV has been getting a lot of things ready and planned out for this semester. One of those things, a very important part has been contacting students that filled out information cards at all of the various student involvement fairs that IV has been present. We have roughly 200-250 students in the database that requested more information about various things from different bible studies happening, to just getting a facebook message when there is an IV event.<br />
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Well, one of the things that the ladies in this group wanted to do was to make cookies for the girls that filled out cards and take them to their dorm rooms. So Saturday I got the text asking if I would be interested in baking some cookies to pass out Tuesday night. "OF COURSE!" My texted response was a little more subdued, but I love baking! Especially when I don't have to keep it all at my house for ME to eat before they go bad! (Me and Rich kept about half a dozen of these cookies - sans frosting)<br />
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My weekend was busy with work on Saturday and Church, Lunch with friends (which was awesome, btw), and a baby shower on Sunday (usually Sundays aren't so packed)...and then the IV Leadership meeting Sunday night. Monday I went to class and then my Mom was also coming into town for my sister's birthday and wanted to take us out to dinner....obviously we did not turn this down! Needless to say...I hadn't yet managed any time to bake these cookies, that by this time, were to be handed out in less than 24 hours.<br />
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AND...if you know anything about baking, I had already decided and bought missing ingredients to make roll-out sugar cookies, which require a lot of prep work, and aren't the fastest things to make - but delicious, none-the-less. And I LOVE every minute of baking. Anyway, I made the dough and frosting Monday afternoon, chilled it, and then baked the cookies Monday night after we got back from dinner. They turned out wonderfully, and I am very pleased with them. I made about 5 1/2 dozen...here's a picture!<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQ0neSgjVV_NDy8qC7w7pcTQsWwWo98bOpcGlJr7rvK3LWYqpjCkQFr5Y3K18nrtTKiSzQURpyEr3tQJVUdC6GTMpxePmydCaV84tqHwHwdW_N67kslp17bvLnNa6YD3nuKAsxxAQS3f4O/s1600-h/iPhone+017.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQ0neSgjVV_NDy8qC7w7pcTQsWwWo98bOpcGlJr7rvK3LWYqpjCkQFr5Y3K18nrtTKiSzQURpyEr3tQJVUdC6GTMpxePmydCaV84tqHwHwdW_N67kslp17bvLnNa6YD3nuKAsxxAQS3f4O/s320/iPhone+017.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">and another...</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjw8TIr0jAnJtMz2Tw1lUO6lToaVi7I15zOZHCufJ9GvZhlDWxVMnWuUbu8NDe6qAH-HvyrjeIVcmqrLI5v-34-2CGsYL9lnxrU4vUhAKID2ZSwJxSbUu_7-Px7znwKdnY9Na9m8DOm6sVO/s1600-h/iPhone+038.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjw8TIr0jAnJtMz2Tw1lUO6lToaVi7I15zOZHCufJ9GvZhlDWxVMnWuUbu8NDe6qAH-HvyrjeIVcmqrLI5v-34-2CGsYL9lnxrU4vUhAKID2ZSwJxSbUu_7-Px7znwKdnY9Na9m8DOm6sVO/s320/iPhone+038.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">They were SOOO good - we still have just a few left.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Now, today, this morning, I had the immense pleasure of joining Autumn and Miss Ava at the Farmer's Market. It was a beautiful day, and we initially met at Starbucks, which was a welcome treat to my morning routine. I was told by Autumn that there are usually more vendors, but there was so much produce, and it was all fresh! I just love thinking about the possibility that the green beans I bought today could have been picked off of the green bean plant just yesterday...it's glorious! I was able to find some nice and hot (they even smell hot) peppers and gorgeous red tomatoes that I'm going to use to make fresh salsa. I found some banana peppers that will work just wonderfully on a BBQ Chicken Pizza (we always just have to use the jarred peppers, but not this time)! I also purchased some plums (minus one that I ate on the way home), peaches and apple butter! So many wonderful things! Green beans, okra (which I'm trying to find a good gumbo recipe to use with these), and some really nice looking sweet potatoes for sweet potato fries possibly sometime this week with a GREAT turkey burger recipe that I have with feta cheese! I want to cook it all right now...that, or just eat it all fresh!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Here's a picture of my "finds" from the farmer's market!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijFV6X242fgbLQ2opi0N-pG6Fpe_ePvjVlskJ7Zy3McslurSupf36XqiSXRN0RZtE-HF0i9Q_lzAThJU-fuoX2MXVbpz2yDM7MPP-bsyVazNKRZW7Wh2C2acnRycUUbyHaUQHNyvlyKqne/s1600-h/iPhone.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijFV6X242fgbLQ2opi0N-pG6Fpe_ePvjVlskJ7Zy3McslurSupf36XqiSXRN0RZtE-HF0i9Q_lzAThJU-fuoX2MXVbpz2yDM7MPP-bsyVazNKRZW7Wh2C2acnRycUUbyHaUQHNyvlyKqne/s320/iPhone.jpg" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"></div><div style="text-align: left;">It was a wonderful way to start the morning, with new friends, and great food!</div><div style="text-align: left;"></div><div style="text-align: left;">(Oh, and it was so precious....Ava was eating the yellow grape tomatoes like candy...Autumn had to buy a second basket of tomatoes just so they would last a little longer once they got home...it was adorable!)</div>Stacyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06484283952690289547noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7813602248953109688.post-84814767080683851932009-09-01T12:11:00.000-05:002009-09-01T12:11:43.656-05:00Official Post: #1In the creation and editing of my new "blog" (which I am very excited about, btw), I was going through all of the "settings" and "layout" tabs and looking over everything to get more acquainted with my new toy...my "Blog". This being said, there is one section that I find difficult to edit. This, is the weighty "About Me" section.<br />
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I'm young, I was there when xanga was hip, and myspace was cool and then facebook was sweet, but only college kids with college emails could have it...and then facebook opened it up to everyone, which really just launched facebook, full-force, into being "THE" social networking site (which, I must say is pretty spectacular if you think about how it's just blown up everywhere)...and now blogs are back. I guess they never really left, but more people have them again, and it's not just junior high folks with their angsty-blog-posts and their need to recite song lyrics every other hour to display their vast array of emotions. I go into detail because at one point in time, I was one of those junior high folks...oh praise God those days are past!<br />
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But to my real point, the "About Me" section really stumped me. I definitely sat in front of my blank screen just watching the blinking cursor for about 30 minutes (which is truly very silly, I know). But I heard this quote once,<br />
The public have an insatiable curiosity to know everything, except what is worth knowing.<br />
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And maybe I'm just cynical, but it resonates with me and it really had me wondering about what I should write in my "About Me" section. Because I didn't want to say things like, "Talk to me and find out 'about me'"...because that's cheesy and lame. I said it, it is. So as I wrote my section, I really wanted it to sound "breezy" as Monica (FRIENDS) would say, but I also wanted it to be fairly concise...so, after one draft, I posted it, because I could spend more time worrying about finding the "right" things to say, and then it would never get done. So...now that whoever reads this feels obligated to read my section, don't judge too harshly! Because in the end, the "About Me" section is not necessarily the things worth knowing.<br />
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All of this to say, "I'm excited about blogging!"Stacyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06484283952690289547noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7813602248953109688.post-52182820346475384412009-09-01T04:20:00.000-05:002009-09-01T04:20:00.487-05:00NewbieAs I sat here, about 20 minutes ago, I decided to create a blog. A part of me has been wanting to create one for some time now - not really thinking that I had much to say of any real importance, so I finally just hankered down and did it. Is it everything I hoped it would be? Only time will tell!<div><br /></div><div>But as it's nearing 2:30 in the morning, I need to sleep - and I'll sleep better knowing that I have completed one of the many things on my "t0-do" list!</div>Stacyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06484283952690289547noreply@blogger.com0