Fireflies

My English Professor asked me to write a story embodying something I learned over the past year. This story represents the lesson I learned -- much to my personal discomfort and frustration ;) But God has a funny way of making hard things into good things and ugly things into beautiful things. This is my story; I hope it encourages you...

  
     There was always peace in the silence. But it was a dark peace – a piece of solitude. They always told me, “It is better to be feared than loved, but if you can be loved – do.” It made sense… in my mind, but my heart was always frustrated – never satisfied. When everything came down, I did not want to be feared at the cost of being loved.
     It was actually because I loved that I wanted to be feared. It was that fierce, oceanic love that the elder have for the protection of the younger. But I am small; I am quiet, but I also am afraid. I can sense things before they happen; I can look into a person’s eyes and know if they are telling the truth… I know the consequences of their actions… and they pain me. Sometimes they pain me because I can feel their hurt – as though it were my own – but this is a small pain. The great pain comes from the horrible, irreversible, irrevocable fact: I can not force anyone to do anything.
     My ferocious love quails at this unstoppable fact. I cannot make the ones I love most DO anything. If they choose to fall, I must allow them to fall. Sometimes this is the best place for them – if an unhappy place. They are in the hands of God – who cares infinitely more and provides infinitely better than anything I could ever hope or dream...
     This is why I sought fear. Perhaps if they “fear” me, they would listen to wisdom, crying in the streets. But I could never bring myself to the hard-nosed, arrogant acts to induce fear – I saw to what this led: a refusal to listen instead of a refusal to act.
     But the pain was too great. This is why I sought solitude; if I could not be feared – if I could not be strong – at least I would never be viewed as weak.
     So into the darkness I walked. Much of the time I enjoyed it. The cool air, the peace, the quiet – no noise, no pain… no people. One can be alone in a crowd. Just never let them in – do not let that ferocious love grow, keep it hidden – protected – safe.
     One day I took a walk in the dark. It was different this time. The emptiness was not my friend. It taunted me and then I realized it was not empty at all – it was filled with every manner of evil: a hoard of snarls and claws seeking to devour my soul.
     Where could I run? The solitude had become my enemy and I had nowhere to go. Like the child I thought I had grown out of returned – I became a little girl, wandering about in the darkness – crying out for help… but no one came and no voice answered. I was rapidly sinking into the inky, stifling blanket – all manner of tortures flashing before my eyes.

Oh God, I know You’re there.

I know You see. I know You promised to never forsake Your daughter. 

But where is the light? Why can I not see? And everything around me is darkness? 

Help me now! Get me out of this wretched horrible place.

     I opened my eyes to see one firefly, blinking alone in the darkness. I swatted it away, “No! I do not want YOUR help.” Yet it returned. I rose and fled from its presence, “No! I cannot accept help – not from ANYONE.” Yet it followed me – no matter how deep into the darkness I fled.
     Soon there were more. The one brought a swarm until there was not more room for darkness. They kept me safe. They made me protected, and they whispered, “All light is God’s light.” No matter how often I tried, they wouldn’t leave me. No matter how weak or strong I was, they comforted me.

Mother told me to allow the Holy Spirit to work THROUGH the hands of men.
I guess Elijah was never alone,
For we are surrounded by a great cloud of witnesses.
I guess I didn’t need to be strong… or afraid,
Since God's strength is in me, and His protection surrounds me.

NaNoWriMo

November is almost here! And you know what that means? NaNoWriMo is back!!!

For those of you not in the know, NaNoWriMo is the abbreviation for "National Novel Writing Month." This month is dedicated to all the writers out there who have brilliant story ideas that never have the time to put them down on paper (or today, I guess that would be in black and white binary code.)

The goal is to write a 50,000 word story (novel) in the 30 days of November -- that averages to 1,667 words a day (but we'll just say 1700). I like to plan things out before I do them, so I'm already working on an outline and main characters for my story, but there are really are no rules on what can and can't be done.

Prize? The satisfaction of a job well done ;) This is just a fun way to motivate people to start writing! Leave your fear and preconceived notions at the door! And get past that procrastination! This is a month to make those writing fantasies come true. This is story-land -- anything that you can (and maybe even some things you can't) imagine are possible.

HERE is a link to the NaNoWriMo website if you want to join and make it official. But if you're more like me, who likes to stay under the radar, just buckle down and get started! No official registration required!

Tips that may help writers:

Tea. For some of you that might be coffee or ice water, but for some reason, tea helps me think more quickly and work faster.

Make a outline. This does not have to be a point 3 subsection c type of outline. Just a general overview of how you want the characters introduced, how they interact with each other, what you want the purpose of the story to be. I like to include the character's background stories in the outline, but I don't think you'll need more than 10 pages (although I do know writers who make 30 page outlines). Just a general overview so that you as the writer can keep things straight in your head.

Make character profiles. Unless you are a writer, few people understand the difficulty in creating a character. The writer must know and understand a character inside and out in order to be able to correctly determine the actions of the character. Family, background and appearance are important factors that are easily forgotten in the mass of letters used in telling a story. HERE is a link to the a post of THE BEST character profile I have come across, and HERE and HERE are two online character templates that are not as good, but shorter.

Write straight through THEN go back and rewrite and edit. This was always a sticker for me. The trick to getting the story done is to run headlong and don't stop until you reach "The End." Constantly going back, rereading and revising causes the writer to become stuck and bored with the story. So bored that they don't care to finish. I have a little sticky note stuck to my computer that says "Let the words flow" to remind me to simply write and to not worry about polish until it's over. Sometimes it helps if I close my eyes and type so that I don't get distracted by little errors in either the story OR my typing.

If you have any good tips, post them in the comments below -- I'd love to hear them!

Poem in Your Pocket Day

April 14th is "Poem in Your Pocket Day". I naturally I had a blast. I had a hard time picking out a short poem to share – most of the poems I like are SUPER long! But at last I settled on a poem by my favorite poet, Alfred Lord Tennyson!


"The Oak":

Live thy Life
     Young and old,
Like yon oak,
Bright in spring,
     Living gold;


Summer-rich
     Then; and then
Autumn-changed,
Sober-hued
     Gold again.


All his leaves
     Fallin at length
Look he stands,
Trunk and bough,
     Naked strength.


I love poems. I think most people underestimate writing! Everything is done through texting – e-mail seems to have gone out of style now too! I have a difficult time finding out about events because I don't have a Facebook, and people get really mad when I "don't text back". Gimme a good ol' pencil and I'll be happy!

I've lately take up writing to my... let's say, distant family. I never hear from them, but I still take the time two send an Aunt or two a card, telling them what I'm up to. Sometimes I wonder if it's any use – not that I really mind that they never write back – but deep in the back of my mind I wonder if the letter arrived. But, that's just my paranoia creeping in. Perhaps my persistence is changing the course of history! Or maybe I'm just keeping a lonely person from having to spend another night just gazing at the ceiling. Whatever the case, I know God is using my talents to do his will.

So, what's your favorite poem? Post it (or a link to it) in the comments below, so I can enjoy it too!

Post Script:
Psalms totally count as poems!

Base Character Profile

Here is the Character Base Profile. I cannot remember where I got it (somewhere on the internet). If anybody knows, post the location in the comments and I'll give credits!

The Questions
Date this form was created:
Full name of Character:
Reason, meaning or purpose behind the name:
Nickname:
Reason for nickname:
Race:
Occupation/class:
Social class:
Birthday:

Physical Appearance:
Age:
How old they appear:
Eye Color:
Glasses or contacts?
Hair color length and style:
Weight and height:
Type of body (build):
Skin tone and type (i.e., harry, slimy, scaly, oily, fair, burns easily):
Shape of face:
Distinguishing marks (dimples, moles, scars, birthmarks, etc.):
Predominant feature:
Is s/he healthy?
If not, why not? Or why are they healthy?
Do they look healthy? Why/why not?

Favorites:
Char’s favorite color:
Least favorite, why?
Music?
Least favorite music, why?
Movie:
Food:
Literature:
Expressions:
Expletives (curse):
Mode of transport:
Hobbies:
How do they spend a rainy day?

Personality:
Are they a daredevil or cautious?
Do they act the same alone as when with someone?
Habits:
Drinks:
How much:
Greatest Strength:
Greatest Weakness:
Soft spot:
Is their soft spot obvious, why/why not:
If not, how do they hide it:
Biggest Vulnerability:

Background:
Hometown:
Type of childhood:
First Memory:
Most important child hood event that still effects him/her:
Why?
Education:
Religion:
Finances:

Family:
Mother:
Relationship with her:
Father:
Relationship with him:
Siblings, How many, relationship with each:
Children of siblings:
Other extended family:
Close? Why or why not:

Attitude:
Most at ease when:
Most ill at ease when:
Priorities:
Philosophies:
How they feel about themselves:
Past failure they would be embarrassed to admit:
Why?
If granted one wish what would it be, why?

Traits:
Optimist or pessimist? Why?
Introvert or extrovert? Why?
Drives and motives:
Talents:
Extremely skilled at:
Extremely unskilled at:
Good characteristics:
Character flaws:
Mannerisms:
Peculiarities:
Biggest regret:
Minor regrets:
Biggest accomplishment:
Minor accomplishments:
Darkest secret:
Does anyone know?
How did they find out:

Self-perception:
One word they would use to describe themselves:
One paragraph of how they would describe themselves:
What do they consider their best physical characteristic and why:
The worst one? Why?
Are they realistic assessments?
If not, why not?
How they think others preserve them:
What four things would they most like to change about themselves:
Why?
If they were changed would they be the same person, why/why not:
Would changing of number 1 make them more happy? Why/why not:

Interaction with other people:
How do they relate to others:
How are they perceived by strangers:
Friends:
Wife/husband/lover:
The Hero/Heroin:
How do they view the Hero/Heroine:
First impression of the char:
why?
What happens to change this perception:
What do people like most about this char:
What do they dislike most about them:

Goals:
Immediate:
Long term:
How do they plan to accomplish them:
How will others be effected by this:

Problems/Crisis:
How do they react in a crisis:
How do they face problems:
Kind of problems they usually run into:
How they react to new problems:
How they react to change:

General:
Favorite clothing, why:
Least favorite, why:
Jewelry:
Other accessories:
Drives:
Where do they live:
Where do they want to live:
Spending habits, why:
What do they do too much of, why:
Most prized possession, why:
People they secretly admire, why:
Person they are most influenced by, why:
Most important person in their life before story starts, why:
How do they spend the week just before the story starts:

Here in the Plains of Shinar

Here in the Plains of Shinar, it is anything but plain. In the bountiful rein of Nimrod, the Great, the people have risen up to build a monument to their power. In the heart of the city of Babylon, the greatest ziggurat to ever grace the world is being constructed. I interviewed one of the main wall architects and this is what he had to day about the matter.

"I believe that is will be the full embodiment of how great, we as human beings, have become. We grow crops, build roads -- We are the best, and greatest this world has to offer. It is our hope that this Tower, will prove that we have the power. The stars are the limit!"

A casual glance at this project will show that it is definitely the pinnacle of architecture. Even as it is unfinished, the top of the tower is hidden in the clouds. The outer staircases are wide enough for five to walk abreast and each level is graced with carvings and windows. I tried to get an audience with King Nimrod, but he was unavailable for comments. However, his head priest had this to say.

"We are planning to make this tower the greatest temple to ever stand. It is a temple to us; we have become gods. We survived the Great Flood; it is us who are the true gods of this earth! As proof, we are building this tower temple to the very heart of the heavens. We will be as great as the heavenly stars."

Yesterday was the Grand Opening of the lower floors. The public was be given a tour and sacrifices were made to King Nimrod. As soon as the first of the flames began licking at the carcass, however, pandemonium ensued. I saw people fall off the levels of the tower and plummet to the ground. I saw people screaming at each other, and even more were running about in terror. When I tried to inquire what the chaos was about, I could not understand anyone. Perhaps we are not gods, as everyone has been saying, for our language has changed. I heard at least 20 different styles of speaking, and I know that no one understood a word I was saying.

All construction on the tower had halted. Since no one can understand each other, there is no way that the temple will be completed. Our crowning glory has now become our crowning shame.

Amos Comes To My Church

I had a professor assign me the project of writing what Amos might say if he came to my church. After writing everything out, I thought that it was a message well needed to be heard, even now, 2500 years later.


I was sitting in one of the many chairs at my church’s auditorium getting ready to listen to the Sunday sermon. I could see a small group of elderly ladies and their husbands sitting in the front rows, followed by mothers attempting to control their unruly children. At the very back of the room I could see that the last rows were filled with teenagers ready to bolt out the door just as soon as they called for the dismissal of the youth.

While the band was tuning up before worship, a man climbed on stage. He was dressed very simply, a red t-shirt and thick blue denim jeans. He faced the congregation and began to speak.

“This is what the LORD has told me,” he said. There was a stir in the vast room as he continued, “‘I hate your hypocrisy! You come in your name-brand designer clothes to my house, not to honor me, but to declare your wealth. You hand out money to the beggars on the street corner, and yet do not lift a finger to evangelize them! You preach about purity and chastity, but allow your daughters to be promiscuous -- becoming pregnant before even reaching the age of sixteen. You support orphans, and yet encourage your daughters to get abortions. You say you love Me and my Word, yet you accept the very acts I despise most!’”

The pastor stood up and yelled, “Who are you to say this? Get off the stage!”

The man replied, “I am not a prophet, nor the son of a prophet! I herd sheep and tend my orchards, but God took me and said to prophesy against you!” the man stared at the pastor with a look of distaste and continued.

“‘Your homes are in shambles! You divorce as much as the pagans outside the church. Your children rebel and hate my laws because you have not set an example -- no! -- you are too busy reading the latest magazines or coveting the latest cars. I have given you a home and a life, all of which you have allowed to rot!

“‘I despise your tithes and offerings and your missionary trips! You give for show, and let the widow with three children next door desperately struggle to survive. You travel to make yourselves feel good -- not to share My love. You spit in my face, then act as though I should bless your efforts, you cows!

“‘You can name every sporting team on television, and yet you cannot share the gospel. You watch every movie, and hear every band, yet you cannot find time to reach the lost. Take away the sound of your drums and keyboard! Your choirs and guitars! I will not listen to that noise!

“‘My wrath will come swiftly if you do not change your hearts. You say that calamity will not overtake you, but lo! Everything you love will be laid to waste because of your disobedience. You will have famine and drought without relief, but I am the God of Love and Forgiveness. Change your ways, turn to Me, and follow My commandments. Be bold and true in your love to Me, for I AM the LORD your God.’”

The room had become deathly silent. When the man finished, he jumped off the stage and walked to the back of the room. I grabbed his sleeve right before he left and asked him his name.

“Amos,” was his reply, and I never saw him again.