I have to wonder if someone's out to get me... I have to wonder if I walked under an umberella, through a rabbit's foot over the wrong shoulder or opened a ladder indoors... It has been one of those weeks. Last tuesday my cat died and I have to own up (to my shame) that it was probably partially due to neglect on my part. Saturday night some who shall remain nameless put some"warm" ashes from the fire place into a cardboard box, next to another cardboard box, under a bean bag. We then went out for a few hours (leaving Dottie locked inside) to return to find the box half turned to cinders... the half that was not touching anything else PTL!
Then last night I plugged in my oil heater. I should have reflected a bit deeper on the smell of burning plastic but it was late and I have never been a details person. I woke up to a flash of light and fumes that no amount of absent mindedness could ignore. The wall socket had melted and caught fire. The one next to my head. No major damage at all but I slept on the floor in the lounge last night which meant waking up with a stuffed back and chinese nasal drip torture going on down the back of my throat.
But you know what? I got to hug Tash this week (who is looking stunning). I got to play dress up with the other Natasha for her seventh form ball. Jane and I hold the record for charades guessing Shawshank Redemption inside 10 seconds thanks to Roy. I got to give Dottie a haircut not because of fire damage. And you know what it really boils down to? I didn't die. I'm alive and sniffing and I get to spend the next two days on block course with some well missed mates.
Tis a strange wee life we are expected to navigate through...
Wednesday, July 28
Monday, July 26
'Great Writer'
There was once a young man who, in his youth, professed his desire become a great writer. When asked to define "great" he said,
"I want to write stuff that the whole world will read, stuff that people will react to on a truly emotional level, stuff that will make them scream, cry, howl in pain and anger!"
He now works for Microsoft, writing error messages.
"I want to write stuff that the whole world will read, stuff that people will react to on a truly emotional level, stuff that will make them scream, cry, howl in pain and anger!"
He now works for Microsoft, writing error messages.
'Lipstick in the bathroom'
A Youth Pastor received an email from the senior highlighting a little problem. Anumber of girls were beginning to use lipstick and would put it on in the bathroom. That was fine, but after they put on their lipstick they would press their lips to the mirrors leavingdozens of little lip prints.
The senior decided that something had to be done and left it to the Youth Pastor to sort out. The Youth Pastor called all the girls to the bathroom and met them there with the caretaker. She explained that all these lip prints were causing a major problem for the caretaker who had to clean the mirrors aftereach youth event. To demonstrate how difficult it was to clean the mirrors, she asked the caretaker to clean one of the mirrors. He took out a long handled brush, dipped it into the toilet, and scrubbed the mirror.
Since then there have been no lip prints on the mirror.
The senior decided that something had to be done and left it to the Youth Pastor to sort out. The Youth Pastor called all the girls to the bathroom and met them there with the caretaker. She explained that all these lip prints were causing a major problem for the caretaker who had to clean the mirrors aftereach youth event. To demonstrate how difficult it was to clean the mirrors, she asked the caretaker to clean one of the mirrors. He took out a long handled brush, dipped it into the toilet, and scrubbed the mirror.
Since then there have been no lip prints on the mirror.
Ferdinand the Frog
Once upon a time, there was a frog named Ferdinand. He was really quite old and really quite bald! Although you must promise not to tell anyone. You see, it was a secret.
Ferdinand was bald. Ferdinand was a frog. But none of the towns folk new this. You see, Ferdinand had a wig. It was a large, hairy, muncled* kind of wig. Like something your mother would use to clean the kitchen floor with.
Ferdinand would wear his wig every day and instead of hopping, he would crawl.
Now, he lived at his local pub where he was gainfully employed as a footstool. He would crawl from patron to patron offering his back as a safe haven for wary feet.
Everyone assumed that Ferdinand was some sort of terrier. You know the ones that you would like to drop kick. They offered him doggy treats, bones, patted him and called him Rover.
Overall, it was not a bad life for a frog but he always felt like something was missing... that there was a hole inside of him. A dog shaped hole...
Ferdinand was also dyslexic.
One day, he decided to venture out. To seek the thing that would fill this dog shaped hole. He travelled through villages, towns, boroughs, burgs, cities, centres, ports and plazas. But no one could help him...
Until one day, he met her. Petunia. She was beautiful. She was elegant. She was well spoken and well bred. She was a standard poodle.
She was also not so bright... she too had a hole... she knew it to be a frog shaped hole.
She ate Ferdinand.
*muncled: gnarly, like something you would fine at the back of the broom closet after the cat had been shut in there for a week…
Ferdinand was bald. Ferdinand was a frog. But none of the towns folk new this. You see, Ferdinand had a wig. It was a large, hairy, muncled* kind of wig. Like something your mother would use to clean the kitchen floor with.
Ferdinand would wear his wig every day and instead of hopping, he would crawl.
Now, he lived at his local pub where he was gainfully employed as a footstool. He would crawl from patron to patron offering his back as a safe haven for wary feet.
Everyone assumed that Ferdinand was some sort of terrier. You know the ones that you would like to drop kick. They offered him doggy treats, bones, patted him and called him Rover.
Overall, it was not a bad life for a frog but he always felt like something was missing... that there was a hole inside of him. A dog shaped hole...
Ferdinand was also dyslexic.
One day, he decided to venture out. To seek the thing that would fill this dog shaped hole. He travelled through villages, towns, boroughs, burgs, cities, centres, ports and plazas. But no one could help him...
Until one day, he met her. Petunia. She was beautiful. She was elegant. She was well spoken and well bred. She was a standard poodle.
She was also not so bright... she too had a hole... she knew it to be a frog shaped hole.
She ate Ferdinand.
*muncled: gnarly, like something you would fine at the back of the broom closet after the cat had been shut in there for a week…
Teenage angst
I have two boxes left of "stuff". Stuff that has been around for years... photos, italian verb pages, reading guides to the Aeneid, journals, letters and the lot. One of my favourite things is reading back over old poetry, having a bit of a laugh and wondering how I managed to stay so miserable for so long. I found a few that I thought were worthy of publishing. They are not so bad, and I didn't even have to edit any of the language!
How is it that inspiration flows so easy out of pain whether it be the depressive kind or the unrequited kind? Where are you supposed to get your inspiration from if you're neither depressed or in love? Why is it that so often you manage to be both?
How is it that inspiration flows so easy out of pain whether it be the depressive kind or the unrequited kind? Where are you supposed to get your inspiration from if you're neither depressed or in love? Why is it that so often you manage to be both?
I walk to the waters edge
The waves mirror my rage
And the moon, my solitude
I take a step forward
The water seeps
Slowly taking hold
I don't have to live
Time stands still
The water rises
Icy fingers seducing me
The tide pulls from within
I control
I can't mak it stop
I don't have to live
Stars twinkle
Pin pricks
They don't bleed
The current drags
my soul
my body follows
I don't have to live
The ocean rages
A betrayed lover
Forcing me onwards
I fall
I am caught
I am not alone
The moon looks on
As the sea screams
And I know
I dont' have to die.
The waves mirror my rage
And the moon, my solitude
I take a step forward
The water seeps
Slowly taking hold
I don't have to live
Time stands still
The water rises
Icy fingers seducing me
The tide pulls from within
I control
I can't mak it stop
I don't have to live
Stars twinkle
Pin pricks
They don't bleed
The current drags
my soul
my body follows
I don't have to live
The ocean rages
A betrayed lover
Forcing me onwards
I fall
I am caught
I am not alone
The moon looks on
As the sea screams
And I know
I dont' have to die.
If I were to see you tomorrow
Would it be through hazy mists?
In which I could see your silhouette?
Or would it be in the corner cafe
Where we sit and talk over coffee?
If I were to see you tomorrow
Would I ask the colour of Heaven's gates?
And the pitch of the doorbell?
Or would I ask if you were lonely
So far away from home?
If I were to see you tomorrow
Would I hear a heavenly choir?
Singing hymns in perfect harmony.
Or would you play your guitar
And sing to me of broken hearts?
If I were to see you tomorrow
Would I tell you of world politics?
Cd roms, cancer research and whales?
Or would I tell you of my first kiss,
My first love and my first car?
If I were to see you tomorrow
Would you ask me my net worth?
Who I am going to vote or?
Or would you ask of my heart
And those I keep close to it?
If I were to see you tomorrow
Would you tell me to invest wisely?
Drive safely and use dental floss?
Or would you tell me to live,
Love and smile?
If I were to see you tomorrow
Would you help me with my tax return?
And paying the rent?
Or would you build sandcastles with me
And watch the sun set?
If I were to see you tomorrow
Would you see a girl with tear stained cheeks?
Trying to hold her head up high?
Or would you see your little princess
Filled with hopes and dreams?
If I were to see you tomorrow
Would I take a photograph?
To keep the memory forever in a frame?
Or would I give you a hug
And keep the memory forever in my heart?
If I were to see you tomorrow
Would you leave me?
Silently while I slept?
Or would you hold me in your arms
And make it all okay?
If I were to see you tomorrow
Could I let you go once more?
Would it be through hazy mists?
In which I could see your silhouette?
Or would it be in the corner cafe
Where we sit and talk over coffee?
If I were to see you tomorrow
Would I ask the colour of Heaven's gates?
And the pitch of the doorbell?
Or would I ask if you were lonely
So far away from home?
If I were to see you tomorrow
Would I hear a heavenly choir?
Singing hymns in perfect harmony.
Or would you play your guitar
And sing to me of broken hearts?
If I were to see you tomorrow
Would I tell you of world politics?
Cd roms, cancer research and whales?
Or would I tell you of my first kiss,
My first love and my first car?
If I were to see you tomorrow
Would you ask me my net worth?
Who I am going to vote or?
Or would you ask of my heart
And those I keep close to it?
If I were to see you tomorrow
Would you tell me to invest wisely?
Drive safely and use dental floss?
Or would you tell me to live,
Love and smile?
If I were to see you tomorrow
Would you help me with my tax return?
And paying the rent?
Or would you build sandcastles with me
And watch the sun set?
If I were to see you tomorrow
Would you see a girl with tear stained cheeks?
Trying to hold her head up high?
Or would you see your little princess
Filled with hopes and dreams?
If I were to see you tomorrow
Would I take a photograph?
To keep the memory forever in a frame?
Or would I give you a hug
And keep the memory forever in my heart?
If I were to see you tomorrow
Would you leave me?
Silently while I slept?
Or would you hold me in your arms
And make it all okay?
If I were to see you tomorrow
Could I let you go once more?
Sunday, July 25
Friday, July 16
Sunday, July 4
Sacrifice
I think I'm beginning to understand sacrifice now... I thought I did before. It's when you give up something you want, right? Like a few hours on a sunday afternoon to cover in the worship team... or going out of your way to drop someone home. That's sacrifice right? It is. But I think there's more. I think that it's when you give up something and it leaves you physically hurting. It's something that you have no desire to do apart from obedience to God. The other end you canot see, so you can only walk forward in trust. Trust that God knows what He is doing and that His plan and purpose will prevail.
Yet I have a feeling that this isn't really a complete understanding either... thoughts?
Yet I have a feeling that this isn't really a complete understanding either... thoughts?
Saturday, July 3
Jars of Clay - Worlds Apart
I am the only one to blame for this
Somehow it all adds up the same
Soaring on the wings of selfish pride
I flew too high and like Icarus I collide
With a world I try so hard to leave behind
To rid myself of all but love
to give and die
To turn away and not become
Another nail to pierce the skin of one who loves
more deeply than the oceans,
more abundant than the tear
Of a world embracing every heartache
Can I be the one to sacrifice
Or grip the spear and watch the blood and water flow
To love you - take my world apart
To need you - I am on my knees
To love you - take my world apart
To need you - broken on my knees
All said and done I stand alone
Amongst remains of a life I should not own
It takes all I am to believe
In the mercy that covers me
Did you really have to die for me?
All I am for all you are
Because what I need and what I believe are worlds apart
[Additional lyrics:]
I look beyond the empty cross
forgetting what my life has cost
and wipe away the crimson stains
and dull the nails that still remain
More and more I need you now,
I owe you more each passing hour
the battle between grace and pride
I gave up not so long ago
So steal my heart and take the pain
and wash the feet and cleanse my pride
take the selfish, take the weak,
and all the things I cannot hide
take the beauty, take my tears
the sin-soaked heart and make it yours
take my world all apart
take it now, take it now
and serve the ones that I despise
speak the words I can't deny
watch the world I used to love
fall to dust and thrown away
I look beyond the empty cross
forgetting what my life has cost
so wipe away the crimson stains
and dull the nails that still remain
so steal my heart and take the pain
take the selfish, take the weak
and all the things I cannot hide
take the beauty, take my tears
take my world apart, take my world apart
I pray, I pray, I pray
take my world apart
Somehow it all adds up the same
Soaring on the wings of selfish pride
I flew too high and like Icarus I collide
With a world I try so hard to leave behind
To rid myself of all but love
to give and die
To turn away and not become
Another nail to pierce the skin of one who loves
more deeply than the oceans,
more abundant than the tear
Of a world embracing every heartache
Can I be the one to sacrifice
Or grip the spear and watch the blood and water flow
To love you - take my world apart
To need you - I am on my knees
To love you - take my world apart
To need you - broken on my knees
All said and done I stand alone
Amongst remains of a life I should not own
It takes all I am to believe
In the mercy that covers me
Did you really have to die for me?
All I am for all you are
Because what I need and what I believe are worlds apart
[Additional lyrics:]
I look beyond the empty cross
forgetting what my life has cost
and wipe away the crimson stains
and dull the nails that still remain
More and more I need you now,
I owe you more each passing hour
the battle between grace and pride
I gave up not so long ago
So steal my heart and take the pain
and wash the feet and cleanse my pride
take the selfish, take the weak,
and all the things I cannot hide
take the beauty, take my tears
the sin-soaked heart and make it yours
take my world all apart
take it now, take it now
and serve the ones that I despise
speak the words I can't deny
watch the world I used to love
fall to dust and thrown away
I look beyond the empty cross
forgetting what my life has cost
so wipe away the crimson stains
and dull the nails that still remain
so steal my heart and take the pain
take the selfish, take the weak
and all the things I cannot hide
take the beauty, take my tears
take my world apart, take my world apart
I pray, I pray, I pray
take my world apart
There is a treason at sea - DC Talk
I am solo in this world of water
Only the tip of a sunrise visible
Like the morning light in a little girl’s eyes
I crave this freedom
I find it only in this little ship
Just my soul and this bread and butter
I am comfortable
But there is a treason at sea
Is it me?
It is a wonder, supernatural cover of war
The dark ones who eternal in damnation grow
Set about me now
How they whine and crow
I am solo
In this world of wet
And bitter is my temperament
I close the door to sentiment
And I relish all my youth
I realize that I am doomed
Fear of love and fear of you
But you give me the keys to paradise
It is you who sympathize
You and your perfection grow
I am cradled in your oceans throw
I crave your freedom in this little ship
For you alone can chart my trip
And like these waves I lose my grip
And I sink into your arms
Only the tip of a sunrise visible
Like the morning light in a little girl’s eyes
I crave this freedom
I find it only in this little ship
Just my soul and this bread and butter
I am comfortable
But there is a treason at sea
Is it me?
It is a wonder, supernatural cover of war
The dark ones who eternal in damnation grow
Set about me now
How they whine and crow
I am solo
In this world of wet
And bitter is my temperament
I close the door to sentiment
And I relish all my youth
I realize that I am doomed
Fear of love and fear of you
But you give me the keys to paradise
It is you who sympathize
You and your perfection grow
I am cradled in your oceans throw
I crave your freedom in this little ship
For you alone can chart my trip
And like these waves I lose my grip
And I sink into your arms
As a room you know
Even at midnight
Walk through effortlessly
By sense, not sight
Passing unscathed between
Table and chair
Faultlessly aware of ledge and bowl
Of flower and vase
Moving unerringly
Without fear or pause
To the desk with it's open book
Paper knife and book mark
As this room I would have you know me...
Even in the dark.
Even at midnight
Walk through effortlessly
By sense, not sight
Passing unscathed between
Table and chair
Faultlessly aware of ledge and bowl
Of flower and vase
Moving unerringly
Without fear or pause
To the desk with it's open book
Paper knife and book mark
As this room I would have you know me...
Even in the dark.
Friday, July 2
Logic
God thinks you're wonderful.
God is never wrong.
Therefore...
You are wonderful.
Anyone who thinks otherwise is working from lack of information!
God is never wrong.
Therefore...
You are wonderful.
Anyone who thinks otherwise is working from lack of information!
Son forse un poeta?
No, certo.
Non scrive che una parola, ben strana,
la penna dell'anima mia:
- follia.
Son dunque un pittore?
Neanche.
Non ha che un colre
la travolozza dell'anima mia:
- malincolia.
Un musico, allora?
Nemmeno.
Non c'e che una nota
nella tastiera dell'anima mia:
- nostalgia.
Son dunque... che cosa?
Io metto una lente
davanti al mio cuore
per farlo vedere alla gente.
Chi sono?
Il saltimbanco dell'anima mia.
Peomi di Aldo Palazzeschi
Tere's rough english translation...
Perhaps I am a poet?
No, certainly not.
It does not write the words, strange,
The pen of my soul:
Folly
Am I thereforea painter?
Not even.
It does not have the colours,
The pallette of my soul:
Melancholy.
A musican then?
Not really.
There are no notes
The keyboard of my soul
Nostalgia
So therefor... what?
I put a lense to my heart
to show it to people.
Who am I?
An jester, this soul of mine...
No, certo.
Non scrive che una parola, ben strana,
la penna dell'anima mia:
- follia.
Son dunque un pittore?
Neanche.
Non ha che un colre
la travolozza dell'anima mia:
- malincolia.
Un musico, allora?
Nemmeno.
Non c'e che una nota
nella tastiera dell'anima mia:
- nostalgia.
Son dunque... che cosa?
Io metto una lente
davanti al mio cuore
per farlo vedere alla gente.
Chi sono?
Il saltimbanco dell'anima mia.
Peomi di Aldo Palazzeschi
Tere's rough english translation...
Perhaps I am a poet?
No, certainly not.
It does not write the words, strange,
The pen of my soul:
Folly
Am I thereforea painter?
Not even.
It does not have the colours,
The pallette of my soul:
Melancholy.
A musican then?
Not really.
There are no notes
The keyboard of my soul
Nostalgia
So therefor... what?
I put a lense to my heart
to show it to people.
Who am I?
An jester, this soul of mine...
YouthTrain Leadership Development Course - The inside story...
All the following photos are what happens when Youth Leaders are left alone together for 8 days in small quarters... somehting has to break.
Scroll down to the two dreamers to get the photsin chronologcal order... (the comments makemore sense that way too)
And Murray, we are truly sorry. Seeing Steve as a 14 year old girl is something I will regret missing for years to come...
For those reading this who weren't there, I'd just like to state for the record that the girls totally kicked butt when it came to pranks... For those reading this who were there... Girls rule! Boys drool! And fart, and burp, and chunder, stink out the toilets...
Scroll down to the two dreamers to get the photsin chronologcal order... (the comments makemore sense that way too)
And Murray, we are truly sorry. Seeing Steve as a 14 year old girl is something I will regret missing for years to come...
For those reading this who weren't there, I'd just like to state for the record that the girls totally kicked butt when it came to pranks... For those reading this who were there... Girls rule! Boys drool! And fart, and burp, and chunder, stink out the toilets...
Thursday, July 1
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