Devotion - "Your prayers must be really powerful."

Last night, as I was reading a book called The Invitation by Rhonda Calhoun, a couple particular lines struck me. Rebekah and Hadassah, two sisters, are in the midst of a spiritual battle. The elder sister, Rebekah, begins to pray, and the spiritual atmosphere changes. Observing the change, Hadassah speaks up. "Your prayers must be really powerful."

"On the contrary," her sister replies. "The Life-Giver must be really powerful."

This struck me because I often like to think that my prayers are doing something. I like to feel as if I've completed some wonderful, spiritual task, and as a result of my prayers, someone is saved or blessed. However, that is such a wrong attitude! If anything becomes of my prayers, if anyone is blessed, it is because God chose to do so. It is His power, not mine at work. To Him belongs all glory and praise for ever and ever, amen.

Of course, I'm not saying our prayers aren't any good. The Bible does tell us that the prayer of a righteous man is powerful and effective (See James 5:16). But we must remember this is only because our Powerful God hears them and acts on our behalf.

Weekly Newsletter

Good afternoon, L.A.R.K. Writers! Here's a tentative schedule for this week:

- Story (Volunteer Needed)

- Tip Tuesday or Word Wednesday (Volunteer Needed)

- Devotion (Grace, I've got something written already)

- What If... (Grace)

- Something Random (Grace)



"Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who has blessed us in the heavenly realms with every spiritual blessing in Christ." ~ Ephesians 1:3

What If... Next Part

“Look,” a white puff of breath shoots from Matt's mouth and evaporates inches from your face. “I've seen this house sit here empty for too long. Year after year I've seen people buy her and then pack up and leave a week later. They spread stories of it being haunted, but I know that's not true. Tell me, what exactly is going on?”

You jerk your arm away, your heart pounding, but instead of sliding into your car, you allow the door to swing shut. “I'm sorry,” you begin. “It's just that …”

“That what?” He urges you on.

“It's this.” You fish the note out of your purse.

As Matt unfolds the yellowed note, a light of recognition twinkles in his eyes. The wrinkles of frustration smooth on his forehead and a chuckle escapes his lips.

“What? What is it?” You grasp his arm.

“I can't believe she did this.” Matt chuckles again.

“Who? What are you laughing about?” You stomp your heel on the shoveled drive. “You know Nadine?”

“No.” Matt shakes his head. “But I know who wrote this note.”

“Tell me!”

“My grandma.”

“What?”

“My grandma.”

“You're kidding.”

“Nope.”

“Your grandma must be cruel.”

“Not really. Just a bit ornery, and maybe a little overprotective.” He laughs again, shaking his head. “I still can't believe she did this.”

“Your Grandma owned this house?”

Matt nods his head. “And she grew up here. As did my mother.”

“Wow, that's why you care so much about this house.”

“Yep.”

“Then why don't you just buy it?” You plant your hands on your hips.

“Well, I'm currently finishing up my doctorates degree. It doesn't exactly allow the time or money to fix up a place like this.”

“Oh,” you say, knowing exactly what he means. You let your hands fall to your side. “So... why does your Grandma want to scare everyone away from this place?”

“She doesn't, exactly. At least, I don't think so. I think it would be best if you just played along. Then you might figure out what this is all about..”

“You mean, find Nadine?” For some reason excitement races up your spine.

“Yes.”

“Will you help me?” The words slip out of your mouth before you've had time to think them through.

“I'd love to, but I think this will require a little more knowledge than what I can offer.”

“What do you mean?” You take the note from his hand.

“I'd like you to show the note to my mom.”

“Your mom?”

“Yeah, come on.” Matt starts his way down the drive way, swinging the snow shovel at his side.

You glance back at your car, then at the note, and back at Matt, then follow.

To be continued....

Sorry, I'm trying to end the story and need to get you a bit closer to something else in the story before I let you make anymore choices about where the story goes :) It doesn't sound fair, but I was beginning to feel like the story wasn't going much of anywhere.

A Joyful Devotion

Anyone who knows me very well can tell you I am not a very joyful person. Personality wise I am mostly mellow with very rare and subtle swings.

However, my oldest brother pointed out a while back that the Bible actually commands joy.

Philippians 4:4  "Rejoice in the Lord always. Again I will say, rejoice!"

Psalm 32:11 "Rejoice in the Lord and be glad, you righteous; sing, all you who are upright in heart!"

And we are reminded:

Nehemiah 8:10 "...the joy of the Lord is your strength."

Now before I go further, let me point out something. Joy and happiness are not the same thing. The word happiness comes from happenstance. In other words, your circumstances. Joy, on the other hand, as we can see in the above verses, comes from God.

After the talk that my brother gave I began to study joy a bit more than I ever had. I found that  it was closely tied to gratitude. Have you ever noticed it's hard to be thankful for something and grumpy at the same time? And guess what? There is always something to be thankful for!

I really had this last sentence hammered into my brain when one morning while reading verses for a Bible study Grace and I do together I came across this:

Matthew 5:11-12

¹¹ “Blessed are you when people insult you and persecute you, and falsely say all kinds of evil against you because of Me. ¹² Rejoice and be glad, for your reward in heaven is great; for in the same way they persecuted the prophets who were before you.

Okay, totally a slap in the face for next time I am grumpy because I spilled the chicken spaghetti I was making for super all over the kitchen floor.

If I am told to rejoice under insult and persecution (note: "because of me") when do I not have to rejoice?

I believe that if happiness if based on our circumstance, joy is based on our attitude. We can be joyful without being happy. It is quite possible to say, " I really did not want hot noodles and creamy sauce all over my feet right now but hey, maybe this means we'll get to go out to eat!"

I am going to leave you with a verse I reviewed on Scripture Typer this morning~

Now may the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, so that you will abound in hope by the power of the Holy Spirit.  Romans 15:13

Joyfully,
Kelpie

A Few of My Book Characters!

Meet the Whitman Family...

The fun-loving father and minister at the local Church

The gentle, yet firm stay-at-home Mother. Very set in her ways.

Eldest and only daughter in the family. Spunky, imaginative,
but fearful of any new situations.

Jessica's (older) twin brother. A determined leader

The bookworm of the family. Quiet and thoughtful.

The youngest and orneriest of the Whitman family. Makes
up for every bit of quietness of his older siblings.

Meet Rachel Colley...

Jessica's dramatic but sweet BFF who moves
away to California

Meet Bear Huttner...

The dirty, stinky, and ever-helpful neighbor boy
who has a crush on Jessica

Meet Owen Howard and his friends...

Perhaps the most popular and unpopular kid in
Aspen...

The "new boy" in town who quickly joins
Owen's group of friends

Another one of Owen's annoying tag-alongs

 Which ones are your favorite? I think I like Jessica  and Owen the best. Joey didn't turn out quite like I wanted him too :(

A Typical Dream...

Going back and rereading this story, I remember why I've never posted it. Oh well... Basically one day I felt like writing something new but had no clue as to what, so I just sat down and wrote. Haha, it's pretty bad...

I'm starving. It's boiling hot out as the sun beats down on me and my companion. I'm not sure exactly who he is, but I think he's good. Here to help me at least. He's wearing one of those Eskimo fur coats for some reason, and he has a beard about as long as my legs. And he's short. Shorter than me. And I'm shorter than
short, which makes him, well, extremely short. I wish I had brought a coat because I seem under-dressed in my froggy tank-top and pink pajama shorts. There is someone else smoldering in this heat with us now. She's wearing a coat too. An orange one. Now I know I am the odd one out.

The sand dissipates under our feet, and we enter some sort of hotel, or maybe it's a museum – I'm not sure. I just wish I was home. Why am I here anyways? And I desperately need a bathroom. I'd ask the bearded man but I really don't know him. He smells funny too. A familiar smell, but I can't place it.

“Where are we?” I ask as he leads me through giant set of double doors. They snore on their creaky hinges like they've been sleeping for ages, but I know they haven't. There are tons of people swarming in here. Their chatter reminds me of a beehive my brother showed me once. He had stuck a stick in it and told me to stand still.

“Where are we?” I dare to raise my voice above the buzz again. The midget man doesn't answer. He just barrels right through the crowd, expecting me to follow. I don't know where the woman went. Maybe to the bathroom. Man, I need that place more than ever now. I glance back toward the double doors, but they are shut now. If I had the guts I'd ask the man, but I don't trust him, not one bit. Besides, he probably wouldn't answer me anyway. My eyes search for him in the sea of people, but I've lost him. You would think it would be easy to spot him in that coat, but everyone here is wearing coats. I am practically naked in my pajamas. At least nobody was staring – yet. As if on cue, a lady turns around and gasps.

She elbows a pudgy man next to her. “Do you see that girl? What's up with mothers teaching their children to go around without coats these days?”

“Did your Momma teach you to wear hairy coats in the dead heat of summer?” I ask her in my head.

“Yes,” Her voice pops into my mind. “Did yours not? Who is your mother?”

“She's at home,” I say and run for a tiny green door on my left. I have to find a bathroom.

A.P.W.300 Grace's Challenge--Keplie

Here's my story for Grace and The Hermit Crab! Hope you like it!

“If you were a pirate, where would you want to be buried?” Alexis held up a Lego man with a hooked arm who looked like he had seen better days.

“In a fish tank.” Kaden tapped lightly on the glass of a small aquarium he was cleaning,

Alexis rolled her eyes.

“I mean it!” Kaden took a second swipe over an exceptionally dirty spot. “If I was a Lego pirate I would want to be buried in a fish tank.”

His younger sister put down the one-handed man and ambled over to the kitchen sink where he was working.

Picking up a rock with the letters B.A.C. carved in the broad side she shoved it under his nose “And you would want this to be your tomb stone?”

“Yes, and then, hundreds of seconds later,” Kaden pushed her hand out of his way glanced across the room to where many plastic little people were scattered over the work table. “A pretty explorer could find my skeleton.”

“After battling a fierce red-eyed fish?”  Alexis motioned to the bucket where several fish swam in confused circles while their tank was being cleaned.

“Mmmhmmm.”

“And how would this amazing explorer find this ancient body? By a crumbling map she found?”

“No.” Kaden dumped the brightly colored pebbles back in to the aquarium and began replacing the fake ferns. “With a high-tech, water-proof, red, sonar walkie-talkie!”

Alexis shoved her hands in her jeans pockets and frowned. “Okay, enough silliness. I said a pirate. If you were a pirate, where would you want to be buried? Not if you were a Lego pirate.”

Her brother finished replacing the fish and then placed the lid carefully back on before turning around. “I don’t know, because I am not a pirate.”

A Picture is Worth 300 Words Challenge Cont.

Here's a picture for you Kelpie :) The Hermit Crab (my brother) wanted to design a picture so I told him I'd use his since he didn't get to writing a scene for yours.

(Click to enlarge)

Amy held her breath. They'd finally found it. The boundless treasure of Bruce Adam Cunningham, the legendary pirate who haunted the magical waters of Iddenpura. Amy and Christopher exchanged goofy grins.They'd been through so much together, and now to have finally reached their dreams, it was like they were giddy preschoolers again. Now that she thought of it, breathing in this water was making her feel sort of giddy. She shrugged off the thought with a giggle. Oh, well she was probably imagining it.

"Alright, let's get this over with." Christopher reached for his pack and pulled out a bundle of dynamite. "Would you like to have the honor?"

Amy giggled again. "I'd love to." She took the bundle and lodged it between the rocks. "Do you think that will do?"

No answer.

Amy spun around. "Chris?"

Her husband had a funny look on his. His eyes darted to and fro, scanning the shadows.

Then Amy felt it too. A presence, a monster, lurking in the darkness. The hair on her arms stood on end.

Christopher reached for his rifle, and Amy snatched up the dynamite. "M-maybe we should go."

"No," Christopher snapped. "We've made it this far. We can't leave now."

"B-but..." Amy's words were drowned out by a low rumble. The gravel beneath her husband's feet began to shift. She watched in horror as the lagoon floor swallowed up his legs and gulped down his torso. Amy grabbed a shovel and jabbed it at the ground, but it was too late. Her husband's thrashing body had disappeared.

A wail caught in her throat. Now what? A silvery shadow slipped through the waters above her head, and a crackling noise filled her ears. Amy glanced down at her hands. Her mouth went dry. Who had lit the dynamite?

Weekly Newsletter

Well, I still didn't get that "What If..." done.  Sorry about that. Hopefully I will this week :)

- Story (Volunteer Needed)

- Tip Tuesday or Word Wednesday (Volunteer Needed)

- Challenge (Continuing from last week) I haven't decided what picture to post yet :)

- What If...  (Grace)

- Devotion (Volunteer Needed)

Devotion - A Changing, Spinning World

Change. A scary word that's just around the corner for me. I've never like that word, probably never will, and the world is full of it. Some people crave it like chocolate. Others thrive on it. I, on the other hand, run from it. 

But I don't want to anymore. I'm tired of running. Suddenly today it hit me. I'm ready for change. I'm ready for college. I still may not like it at first, but I am ready for it. Ready for a "new" me, one who embraces the changes that God wants to make in me.

It seems to me that our Heavenly Father likes change. 2 Corinthians 5:17 says, "Therefore if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation: the old has gone, the new has come!" He continually calls people to Him so he can turn them from their old way of living to a new. Also, in Revelation 21, He tells us that He is "making all things new." New means change, and we can certainly trust that it is for the better in God's hands!

The awesome part about all this, is that despite the changes God is continually making in our hearts and lives, He gives us the assurance about some things that will never change: Him, His word, and His love. Even when the world is changing a hundred miles per hour, God stands firm. He is our rock and refuge when everything is spinning (Psalm 18:2). He will never leave us nor forsake us (Hebrews 13:5), and Christ is the same yesterday and today and tomorrow (Hebrews 13:8). Because God never changes, neither will His word or His love. If you have any doubts about his love, just read Psalm 136. "His love endures forever," is repeated 26 times!

Change is good and doesn't have to be scary, but at the same time, we've got to hold on to the eternal. That way, when we change, we will change not with the spinning world, but toward our Heavenly, Eternal Father.

Word Wednesday

Bamboozle :
to confuse, frustrate, or throw off thoroughly or completely <a quarterback bamboozled by an unexpected defense>

I don't know why, but this has long been one of my favorite words; it's so much fun.  =)
There isn't really much to learn from the word, I don't suppose.  We once named one of our cats Bamboozle when we were on an alphabet kick and naming a batch all 'A's and then all 'B's and so on.  We called him Bamboo for short. 
So I guess the point to this is that the next time you're writing a story and want to use the word "confused", but need something more imaginative, you can use "bamboozled"!

-Josie

A Picture is Worth 300 Words Challenge - Grace

I'm not sure this completely makes sense, but here it is...

Relief. Water. My tongue screamed for water. With feet of lead I shuffled across the cracking expanse of dirt and dust. I pulled at my dress coat sleeves, tempted to remove the stifling burden, but no, I couldn't. This was all a part of the job.

I saw everything in black and white. You're either in or you're out. You're either right or your wrong. If you want to reach the top you have to sweat for it. No pain, no gain. Yes, that was me. I was going to win the world. Nothing but the top would quench my thirst. So I trudged on. Miserable, confident, me.

And then I reached it. The spot. I don't know exactly how to describe it except that it looked like a garden of sorts. Clocks on iron poles sprouted out of the desert ground, like needles puncturing time-wrinkled skin. My mind was baffled. Where was the water? I sulked among the clocks, my thoughts spinning, my heart drumming. What were these useless minutes towering over me, mocking me?

Like the sudden gong of my grandmother's clock, thunder clapped and a voice broke through the churning clouds above me. “The time has come when time will be no more.” And I looked up at the clock to my left, and the ticking hands dissolved before my eyes. And I realized, all I'd worked for, all I'd done to race to the top, was wasted time. For what did it matter anymore?

A Picture is Worth 300 Words Challenge

Okay, here is my story for the clock picture!

Theo, his stomach clenching from hunger, wearily threw his hoe into the soil once again, uprooting one out of innumerable noxious weeds from among the crop rows.  He glanced longingly at the sky, wiping the gleaming sweat from his brow.  Surely it would only be a few more hours.  His musing was distracted by a clod of dirt landing in front of him, splattering with stray bits flying from it.  He glared at his fellow worker in the row next to him and continued working.  Finally, the bell gonged and the workers stumbled over themselves in a rush to get to the clock ground.  They all scrambled to their appointed clocks and stood in anxious anticipation.  As a clock struck noon, a trapdoor of sorts would open directly above the clock and drop down a ration of food for the hungry worker standing below.  Theo watched impatiently as worker after worker was fed his dinner.  The hot sun dulled him into a restless doze, his head lolling upon his chest. 
Theo startled awake, a cool breeze ruffling his sweat-stained locks of golden brown hair.  He glanced around him in surprise; he was alone in the clock ground.  "What?"  He gasped.  His food had never arrived, and he was suddenly more hungry than ever.  He peered at all the other clocks, at various stages all long past noon.  Then, with a strange sense of foreboding, he cast his eyes upon his own clock.  Stricken with horror, he struggled to comprehend what his eyes were seeing.  No hands!  His clock was bare but for the stark, ugly numbers.  Thunder rumbled in the sky above and shadows fell across the ground as dark clouds rolled in angrily.  Theo slumped over, his head hanging dejectedly in defeat.  He waited for the certain doom coming.

A Picture is Worth 300 Words Challenge

I am sure most of you have heard the saying. "A picture is worth a thousand words". Maybe you have even participated in a challenge based on this quote. I decided that I wanted to do something similar but due to most of us being short on time I chose to make our word limit rather less. 300 in fact. Hopefully, small enough to fit in the comment box! So here's the challenge, write up to 300 words inspired by the above picture and leave it for me in the comments. If you can fit a whole story in that small space, go for it! If not simply come up with one scene. The story does not have to be fantasy like mine (below) but do make it relevant. The next part of the challenge involves you finding a picture and writing a scenario as a challenge to me! Either post it on your own blog and leave a link, or, if you are a LARK writer post it on this blog! I hope you find some inspiration and enjoy the challenge of making something this small, interesting! I'll admit, I found it tricky! :) See if you can do a better job than I.

Ready? Here is the picture: Go!

Ian stepped down the train car’s steps and out into the field of clocks. Little puffs of dust followed his footsteps as he shuffled to the nearest time keeper. Behind him, the train gave a shrill whistle and fled into the surrounding darkness leaving him utterly alone. Alone, to watch the time.The hands on the white face closest showed nearly midnight.  He fingered the warm black metal and rubbing his hand along the smooth surface his sensitive tips felt a strange set of patterned indents. A word! Straining his eyes in the dusty twilight the characters came into focus. Maude. He glanced up at the clock face again and it starred back down at him, strikingly white. The hands were getting very close to the twelve. Seconds away in fact. He could hear the tick, tick, tick. Then hands were covered the twelve.There was a click, a grind, and the clock began to shake and ring as if it was in pain.  He turned toward the faces surrounding him but none showed the same time. Then he felt something brush his cheek and something else struck him in the head. Ducking, Ian hugged the clock stem however nothing more fell. Squaring his shoulders he faced around. The black hands lay at his feet, the clock silent and stopped. The metal that he still clung to was fast growing cold. Then he understood. These clocks were people’s lives and time was running out--on all of them.

Weekly Newsletter

Well, L.A.R.K. Writers, I've got good news, and I've got bad news. The good news is... L.A.R.K. has almost been running for a full 2 years! About the middle of next month will be our second birthday! :) It's been a lot of fun. I've learned and written things I probably wouldn't have written if it weren't for this blog.

Thank you, Hope (Kelpie) for bringing us all together.

Now for the bad news. Faith is unable to continue posting with us, especially with school just around the corner. If only we didn't all grow up so fast... I, too, will be heading off to college soon and don't know how much time I'll have for blogging. I'm going to try, because I hate saying goodbye, but I know my posts will be few and far between.

I guess what I want to say is this: We may not be able to keep this blog up much longer as the future takes us down separate paths into adulthood, but don't abandon your writing. You all have a gift, a wonderful tool to use for God's glory. Don't leave it hanging in the garage or sitting in the tool shed. God gave it to you because it's meant to be used.

Now I'm not saying you should try to write a book and get published. Rather, I'm saying find a way to use your writing in your daily life to make a difference for someone else. Whether it be a simple note, a letter, a Sunday School lesson, a Facebook message, or an email, use it. You don't have to be a famous author. You just have to use your tool.

I'm praying for all of you and your futures!

"For I know the plans I have for you," declares the Lord, "Plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future." ~Jeremiah 29:11
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Okay, now let's get down to actual business. Here's a tentative schedule for this week:

- Challenge (Kelpie, maybe???)

- What If... (Grace) Sorry I didn't get it done last week!

- Devotion (Volunteer Needed)

- Tip Tuesday or Word Wednesday (Volunteer Needed)

Devotion - Reflections of a Cake Decorator

I was thinking just today, Lord,
About how you made my life.
I know I'll never fathom,
Your wisdom and your might.

But I figured and I pondered that
With your fingers you did make:
My life so sweet and savory,
Like a giant tiered cake.

One thing I know for sure, Lord,
You didn't make me from a box.
Though a human, I'm unique,
Made of different building blocks.

You sat and thought awhile,
And, yes, you carefully planned.
You thought of certain ingredients,
To make me who I am.

Then you whipped me all together,
And poured me in a pan -
My own special place in life,
That shapes me how I am.

But you knew I wasn't finished yet,
All soppy, sweet but small,
So you placed me in the oven,
So I could grow up tall.

The heat it burned a little -
Okay, maybe a lot.
But you knew what you were doing,
'Cause I sure outgrew the spot.

Yet still I was not perfect,
Though firm, I wasn't smooth.
A crack had split my top;
And sin was bitter truth.

You knew exactly what to do,
For with me you were not through.
A knife you drew out next,
And trimmed my roughened hue.

God, you gave me wondrous friends,
And, yes, a family too.
You stacked us all together,
To point us all to you.

But we could not stand alone,
You gave us your support.
To balance all our different minds,
You joined us in your fort.

Still we were not smooth,
We had holes, and cracks, and flaws.
So you took a little buttercream,
And slathered us in love.

Now we're wrapped in pretty ribbons,
Of grace and peace and hope.
Your mercy is the flowers,
That covers up the holes.

How beautiful we are now,
And still your adding more,
I can't wait to see me finished,
'Cause, your glory tops it all!

How you labored, how you toiled,
How you sweat those drops of blood.
But now I'm yours forever,
Your grateful work of art.

Tip Tuesday

This Tuesday I am simply going to share something I found on Pintrest. For some reason I can't make it any smaller...at least there is no doubt about whether or not you can read it! ;)

Weekly Newsletter

Hope everyone had a happy 4th! I did, although I was very busy. Finished my first wedding cake :) You can see it on my cake blog:  Simplysweetsuggestions.blogspot.com.

This Week:

- Story (Volunteer Needed)

- Tip Tuesday (Volunteer Needed)

- Word Wednesday (Volunteer Needed)

- Devotion (Grace) Something I learned from making cake :)

- What If? (Grace)

"I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made. Wonderful are your works; my soul knows it very well. My frame was not hidden from you, when I was being made in secret, intricately woven in the depths of the earth." ~Psalm 139:14,15

Who Am I?

1.) I have a bear named after me.
 2.) I was a governor.
3.) I was part of a famous cavalry unit.

I had a feeling this person was going to be too easy so I tried to pick obscure facts. How did  I do?

Word Wednesday

Ha ha... I just remembered I said I would do Word Wednesday. I guess it's not too late, but about this time of evening, my brain is fried. I apologize if the quality of my writing is not so good tonight. Anyway, this won't be a typical Word Wednesday. Instead of sharing a word, I'm going to share a suggestion that has to do with words. Really, this post would probably better fit as a Tip Tuesday. Oh, well... definitely too late for that one.

Okay, back on topic. I really just want to share with you all a wonderful website that has proved handy for me in increasing my typing speed - and memorizing scripture all at once. It's called ScriptureTyper, and it is specifically designed to help make Bible memory "fun and easy" through "actively engaging three separate cognitive areas: Audio, Visual & Kinesthetic (Touch) memory." You can memorize from your preferred translation, import the verses of your choice, or choose a collection of verses. Join a group, have a little competition, encourage each other - it's actually kind of fun if you get a good group together.

Now I personally would not say Scripture Typer is "easy". It's a lot of work to keep all your verses reviewed, but I can definitely say it's worth it. My typing speed has increased. I have some days now where I can reach 80wpm. I've also noticed that more scriptures have come to mind recently at times when I need them. It has proved encouraging.

So now you're probably asking, what's this have to do with Word Wednesday? Well, I'm sure a faster typing speed is useful for finishing stories :) Plus, scripture can prove to be excellent inspiration for writing. Just think of Pilgrim's Progress, the Chronicles of Narnia, and Hinds' Feet on High Places. All of them are wonderful Christian classics and all inspired by scripture.

Anyway, don't feel pressured or anything. I just thought I'd share it since I found it helpful. If you are interested and would like to join a group, Kelpie and I have one you are welcome to join. Just let me know :)

A Complementary Disagreement

I had a writing assignment once which required me to write out a discussion/disagreement. I was required to have mostly dialog but I could include a little bit of action. And, it had to all have actually happened to me. So, I wrote up a discussion Faith and I once had. In honor of her birthday, today, I am posting it.

“You’re funny, Faith.” I smirked across the top of my logic book.

“What else could I possibly be?” she threw up her hands with a theatrical gesture of shock.

“Do you really wish me to say?”

“Yes!”

I smirked again. “How about gorgeous, dazzling, and brilliant? Do any of those suit you?

“Nope.” She shook her head. “An exaggeration.”

I laid down my textbook and studied her for a moment.

“How about amazing, brilliant and wonderfully witty?”

She looked sternly at me and tried to frown. “If you take out the “ ‘ Brilliant ‘” it would be more accurate.”

“I disagree.”

“How about,” she watched me out of the corners of her blue eyes. “You say, intelligent?”

“Okay. You’re and intelligent, gorgeous, genius.”

“Take off the last two!” she crossed her arms.

“Intelligent and…” I climbed down from my stool. “I need to go get my thesaurus.”