Shallow

We’re emotional creatures,

Living from moment to moment,

Making choices based on how we feel,

Putting ourselves first and justifying the means to that end.

Easier to agree to what we want than sacrifice for the sake of others.

*

And sometimes being the “good guy” puts us at a disadvantage.

Telling the truth hurts: either them, us or both.

Doing the right thing means we miss out or lose.

Being selfless leads to sacrificing when we don’t have to.

Taking the punches and not retaliating leaves us bruised and broken.

*

When our right comes before considering others,

Who then can we trust?

Who then can we rely on?

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“In everything, therefore, treat people the same way you want them to treat you”

“Enter through the narrow gate; for the gate is wide and the way is broad that leads to destruction, and there are many who enter through it. For the gate is small and the way is narrow that leads to life, and there are few who find it.”

~Matthew 7 – NASB

 

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Wednesday Book Review: The S.K.A. at Carnarvon – A TROJAN AFFAIR

Title: The S.K.A. at Carnarvon – A TROJAN AFFAIR

Author: Michael Smorenburg

Genre: Gee this took a while to slot in… hesitant to call it a Religious mystery….

Book procurement: Received a copy from the author for an honest review.

Synopsis:

Dara Singh is seventeen. Gregarious and with an Oxford accent, he carries the dark Indian skin and fine features of his evolutionary psychologist father. He is dangerously innocent to the fundamentalism and dogma of the predicament he’s suddenly thrust into.

His American astrophysicist mother, Marsha, has taken on a contract to help build the SKA, the $2.5-Billion Square Kilometer Array radio telescope network.

This sees the family relocate to the dusty desert town of Carnarvon in South Africa’s arid Northern Cape. It delivers Dara into the heartland of a staunchly conservative culture.
Next year he’s off to finish school in the city, but with 3 months to kill, he’s made the fateful decision to seek new friends by enrolling at the local school. Alas,

The Dominee, the town’s preacher, considers the SKA a direct challenge to Genesis.
Better yet, only the preacher knows that an Evangelic group from America’s Bible Belt has secretly offered to bankroll his struggle, and the cantankerous old man is already well advanced in mounting a renegade resistance against the vast scientific infrastructure.

On sight, in Dara, the SKA now has a face for the preacher—a dark dark foreign face.
Neels, the preacher’s youth leader and school bully, targets Dara, not just to exact revenge for the town’s anguish, but because his pretty girlfriend, Sonja, moves to protect the outsider… an action that will bring scorn from her father if he finds out her alliances may be suspect…

And so unfolds a cascade of intrigue, agendas and unusual alliances.

Review:

I literally just finished this book and I’m reeling from all the implications that the book carries, although categorically a book of fiction, the details outlined in the story tread across multiple factual truths as well as unfortunate distortions, intermingled with very controversial issues. Kenneth Bacon and his Genesis Answers group would be sourly displeased <- I love this injection of fictionalized truth.

From a character perspective, I must immediately state that the scientists are represented by a myriad of colourful, sophisticated, intelligent, cultured people across the range while the religious are clumped into one simple, shortsighted, racist group of bigots. Their arguments always fall short and show no sign of any intelligence – their answer is strictly biblical naivety. Granted, the location of the story and the cultural background of these characters can be used to justify their mentality, but having a renowned scientist having a debate with these remote individuals is far from a legitimate argument. Like arguing with a child. Even the reference to the “American” version of these religious “Calvinists” and “Evangelicals” does nothing to represent a very intelligent portion of these groups. So from that standpoint, I found the book solemnly one-sided. But it builds up that climatic end like the biblical rains of Noah’s time.

All of that, however, made for a very interesting book and we see Dara, the Indian boy from Britain, uninformed and unsuspecting, dive into a severely racist town. He is met with abject hostility. Man did I cringe. Not just from the slurs, which authenticated the book, but from the trials he had to face, one especially big I didn’t want believe could happen. We see his mother, who is an astrophysicist, work through these issues as both a mother and a scientist. We are faced with a “typical” Afrikaans boy who, in that culture and setting, is the epitome of expectation and how he deals with Dara’s appearance. We have the local pastor who staunchly stands against the S.K.A, the other races that have infiltrated their holy land, question their God and the degree by which all the developments drive him. A smattering of other varying individuals make appearances, falling into either end of the argument, all adding fascinating aspects to the story.

And the tension. So much tension in the book from the word go, right through the pages. And perhaps all of the controversy so close to home jolted it all up a notch. Science is of the devil and must step into the realm of God and religion. This is the topic that not only pulls the story together, but thrusts it forward with unrelenting intrigue and drama. And then it all rolls out from under the table like a giant spider that snares both sides in a twist I did not see coming! Woo!

The writing is smooth and transitory – and Michael Smorenburg doesn’t hold back. I’ve actually learned a few words myself and have learned the true meaning of some of the slurs I’ve heard myself. Really insightful. It is also clear that the novel was written with an audience that doesn’t understand Afrikaans in mind, which at times was an annoyance to me to have it translated. However, the translation is molded into the story cleverly to clarify the preceding texts. I’ve read other books where the author doesn’t do this (Kill Baxter, Dark Things, Moxyland) and it doesn’t change the story, merely adds authenticity to it. No one really translates their own language to English as they think or speak anyway. But it works in S.K.A.

Any book that makes me question my own beliefs and challenges my thinking, is a book worth reading. I feel as though many would fall into the “I agree with the author” route and with good reason, but as my review has, I hope, clearly defined for you that I neither agree nor disagree with either party represented in the group. Although I think which way the author falls is pretty clear. Nonetheless a fantastic book that has truly wound me up.

Rating: An authentic 5 out of 5

The Golden Thread

Once again the world is awakened to the rising sun, glorious in its stead; punctual. We glory in it’s warmth and beauty, gladdened by its presence as it overlays the land in gold. Its light washes over the darkness of night and sweeps our fears away with each ray of its golden light; rejoicing in its ability to give life to everything we see.

And yet

Often we are awakened to the rising sun, indifferent to its punctuality. Greet it in contempt and dissatisfaction. At times we take in it’s warmth and ignore its beauty, its presence merely a constant reminder of how fleeting time is in it’s relentlessness; the gold it overlays across the land only illuminates the repugnant inconsistencies and frailties of life. We’d rather wallow in the darkness, shrouding our objectionable desires and motives below the cover of darkness and obscurity, regardless of the fear that rattles our bones. Hiding from the light that reveals our life so no one sees everything about ourselves.

And even then

Is this not so even with God? Each morning we awaken, by His grace. Rising, we should glorify Him for his steadfastness and consistency. We ought to glory in His warmth and beauty, the God of love and creation who has continually blessed us with many things that should bring gladness to our hearts; His presence overlaying our lives in the gold of His majesty. His Light washes over the darkness of our hearts, sweeping away our fears, softening our hardened hearts and washing away our sins. We should be rejoicing in His ability to give life to all that we see but also to those who are dead in their iniquity, disobedience and sin.

In Need of a Saviour

A single plume of steam, slowly writhed its way up from the coffee mug, on the large wooden table she sat behind. Her hands were wrapped tightly around the mug, keeping her icy fingers warm. She sat silently, her convoluted thoughts bouncing back and forth in her mind. The kitchen was cold and gloomy. The winter sun remained hidden behind dark clouds yet letting in enough light, to illuminate the barren trees in the garden… and  the freshly dug hole. She’d been outside. Four in the morning. Robe and all. She’d held the cold steel handle of the shovel. With each hard thrust into the soft ground, her hair swung forward in disarray, swinging back as she threw dirt back behind her. Her once lime green robe turned a shade of brown, the same shade as her eyes, that stared blankly at the ground. Her mouth moved but no words formed as she ceaselessly worked the shovel into the soft earth. In her mind her past played out like a movie; the characters her family, friends and acquaintances, the protagonist herself and the story…her life. An endless loop of episodes past and present, all intermingled into one, making it difficult for her to distinguish between the time frames. There she was as a little girl, twirling in her yellow sun dress lined with white frills, her bare feet sweeping across the softness of the green grass below, the lace tied around her waist spinning along  behind her. The sun shone, making everything glimmer that fine spring afternoon. A shadow fell over her, making her look up to see who it was, squinting against the glare of the sun to see a manly figure. She could not make out the face of the man above her, but she knew it was her father..however, when she could make out features of his face…she became certain, that it was her husband. He proceeded to lift her up by the waist, making her giggle in glee then laughter as he spun her around..and around…and around until her twirling younger self spun fast enough to make the face of her father…husband… blur across her vision. Her laughter turned to screaming, the soft warm gleam of sun became the cold harsh beam of headlights and the crackle of bending, twisting metal swallowed up every other sound.

She raised the cup to her lips and took a sip of the bitter coffee. That seemed to soothe her slightly. Her thoughts began to dwindle into single occurrences, events that made her heart in her chest pang with regret and anguish. Her past was like a dark cave, hiding a malicious creature that thrived off the darkness in her heart. With each hurtful memory came that deep anguish, one that struck a cord so deep her whole body shivered; and that creature wallowed in her displeasure. She knew, wholeheartedly, that there was nothing she could do about those past events, no place to hide them both within her mind or in the world.  Even with her mud caked robe and dirt streaked face, even with all her husband’s possessions scattered haphazardly within the shallow grave, she would not be able to erase her past; she felt burdened and heavy-laden. Burdened and heavy-laden. The phrase sounded familiar, somewhat nostalgic yet foreign, like a familiar yet unrecognizable face in a dream. She grasped for it, something of it, yet her mind brought up blanks each time, no closer than she was when she started. She took another sip of her coffee, allowing the thought to filter out and into the dark abyss that was her mind. She was lost, well and truly lost.

Dennis van der Berg stood outside the large wooden door, smoothing his dark grey suit down with one hand. It was a habit he’d developed in the early years of his ministry, one he was yet to break. Nervousness, as usual before these kinds of works, filled his stomach with a queasiness that both excited him and made him sick. He recited his exhortation softly to himself, silently mouthing all the main keywords that would help direct his conversation. When he was satisfied, he raised his hand towards the doorbell and pressed it. Nothing. He waited a while, listening for any sort of sound that would let him know that someone had heard him. A full minute passed before he pressed the doorbell again. When no one opened the door he lightly rapped on the hard wood, knocking louder with each passing minute. Finally he heard the shuffle of feet behind the door and with practiced ease, placed a friendly smile on his face. The rattle of keys came from behind the door, followed by a soft cry of frustration, some more rattling and then the tell-tale click of a door unlocking. Dennis opened his mouth to greet, a smile still across his face, but instead of a greeting his mouth remained agape, his smile faltering then drooping into an “O” of shock at the figured that appeared before him. He quickly tried to cover the shock with a smile but he found it hard to smile at the ghastly, face that peered at him from behind the slightly ajar door. She was half hidden within the darkness of the house, yet he could make out the bedraggled locks of hair that draped wildly over her face, the streaks of dirt that lined her cheeks, broken by a clear trail leading down from what was most assuredly tears. The bags under her brown eyes added ages to what should have been a young face. Dennis’ face softened, the shock wearing off as quickly as it had appeared and in its place, sorrow took hold. He felt his heart drop in his chest, weighed heavily by emotion and without thinking reached towards the door and softly whispered within her hearing,

“You look burdened and heavy laden…come to the Lord for He will give you rest.”

Officially part of the Team

So I am officially writing for Gamecca, which is an amazing online gaming magazine. It was first published in July 2009 and has been going strong since. The editor, Walt Pretorious has been in the magazine industry for a long time and has been referred to as an “industry veteran”, and he was the man to offer me this grand opportunity. Thanks Walt! I feel very privileged to have become part of the team but this couldn’t have happened had it not been for one other integral player in this saga.

Somehow I found myself on the JHBGamers website a while ago as they were affiliated…somehow…to a company that was promoting the launch event of Prototype 2. I found myself at the event and enjoyed an evening of free food, drinks and gaming! I then made a point to add JHBGamers to my Facebook likes (as well as a bookmark on my web browser) and checked regularly for similar events. It took a long time but eventually the Resident Evil Launch Event was promoted with a chance to win a double ticket to the event by way of commenting how big of a Resident Evil fan I was. I of course entered immediately with the following post:

” The stench of flesh hung in the air, unmistakable, even under the cloud of dark smoke from the burning vehicle I’d just crawled out of. The last thing I wanted was to lose my only mode of transportation, let alone have an infested wound crawling up my leg like a dying spider… and yet there was a calm that reverberated through me, putting me in a state of tranquility. I wasn’t sure if it was the virus numbing my senses and hiding my pain and panic behind the delectable smell of flesh or I was in a state of severe shock… or hunger; either way, I knew I had to make it to the Launch Event. Not for the possibility of fresh meat..of course not…no…not at all…but for the thrill of putting my *dying* hands on a controller and sate the desire that the RE6 demo left on my *remaining* brain. Years of playing the game, from that first Resident Evil I laid my hands on – Nemesis – to the excitement of seeing that visual realization brought by the famous Mila Jovovich…ah joy. I must go…must go…must…”

Well that got me a ticket and next thing I know I’m driving to the Microsoft office building with much excitement and anticipation, wondering what was in store for me. Unfortunately I was unable to procure a “Plus one” to this event but that proved vital in my meeting of two brothers; Andrew and Kyle. They introduced themselves to me and became familiar faces in unfamiliar territory. It was these two brothers that also led to my meeting with Walt and the proposal to write for him was made. To be honest I did not think I had what it took to be a Game Reviewer and even with his prompting, I did not send an e-mail to find out more about this offer. It was, however, after I won another double ticket to the rAge Expo courtesy of JHBGamers (these guys are amazing!) that I again met Walt and he again suggested I send him a mail and that was when I thought “Why not” and sent it through. Now here I am, with an amazing opportunity at my hands and I intend to use it!

This post would be incomplete without giving credit where credit is due and of course all of this would not have been possible had it not been for the most integral part to any event that occurs in anybody’s life, and that is God. Indeed it is by His grace that all happened as it did and therefore I give all credit and glory to Him. The Sovereign One! Praise be to You, LORD, for Your provision.

Sketching it out

It’s not that I haven’t been writing, it’s just that drawing has been my focus recently, trying to visualize my characters from my Walking by Faith post : Walking By Faith. Here are the sketches

Faith

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Aaron

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I’ve been trying to capture the personality of my characters in these sketches and so you will see that the drawings aren’t complete. The focus is more on the facial features or recognizable features like the hint of the straw hat Faith wears or the look of anger/sadness/despondence on Aaron’s face.

Please do keep visiting the site as I work on finishing my stories and novels. Thanks!

Walking By Faith

Where do we go, nobody knows. We go wherever the wind blows.
~Faith – the spirited Adventurer ~

Faith hoisted the large, heavy backpack higher up on her shoulders, placing it in a more comfortable position on her back. She gripped the backpack’s dark straps firmly; they came across the front of her mud stained blouse, the blouse no longer a sunny yellow in colour but fading into a shade of yellow and brown. Her large straw hat hid her from the scorching heat, and the flow of long, light brown hair coming from it covered her ears, framing her demure face and reaching her shoulders. She looked ahead, her clear hazel eyes sparkling with excitement as she gazed across the empty, ridged landscape of the desert; there was a large tower ahead. It stood erect, rising from a sand dune that covered the bottom quarter of the immense structure. There was an eagerness within her. It seemed to bubble right through her as a large grin spread across her face and she began to rise up to her toes and drop back down to her heels in an energetic rhythm. She glanced down at her partner and snorted softly.Unlike her, young Aaron sat crossed legged on the coarse ground; despondent. His short golden brown hair lay matted to his head from sweat. The heat had taken every ounce of his energy, regardless of the short swim he had taken, at the oasis Faith had managed to direct them to. The mud had helped cool them off too but the prospect of traversing the sandy terrain with mud baking on their skin did not appeal to him at all, even if that would have cooled him down. He gazed up at the tower in the distance, shielding his light brown eyes from the sun so he could look at it without going blind. He sighed dejectedly; that was the last thing he wanted to do.

The travelers, completely unrelated, had been making their way across the desert for a week and a half now, each with their own personal goal. Faith sought adventure, yes, she lived with almost eccentric motivation that had led her to many different parts of the world. Yet this journey had become spiritual more than adventurous as she trekked through aesthetic landscapes varying from mountains and valleys to forests and jungles. Each region she traversed filled her with awe and wonder, a deep longing as well as a desire to know not only about its creation but also about its creator. Aaron on the other hand was an orphan, abandoned as a young boy by his parents claiming they were not ready for a child; he was pulling them down. He’d met his parents again later on and they had rejected him again. In his sadness and anger at his parents and a deeper bitterness for his unfair life, he lost all will and purpose to live. At the apex of the apartment building where his orphanage was located, he’d found himself on the edge of the building and gazing glazed eyed at the inevitable below him. Had Faith not appeared at that moment, Aaron would not have been alive this day. He found a new desire at that moment, a desire to figure out his purpose and know more about this ultimate Being that Faith spoke of so reverently yet so mysteriously about. Who indeed was the creator of those marvelous places Faith had traveled to? Where was He now? What purpose did He have for him? This journey had to have answers, just had to.

“Come now, enough rest let’s go!” Faith exclaimed as she grabbed the younger boy’s arms and pulled him up to his feet. Aaron grunted his disapproval but let himself be pulled up to his feet.
“Are we seriously going to climb that?” Aaron asked, unable and unwilling to alter his despondent tone of voice.

“Of course! This tower will challenge you beyond anything you have ever faced!” Faith exclaimed, falling back into her excited rocking, “In fact, there is a historical record of a young man, a little older than me, who not only climbed the tower but leapt from its top!” Aaron had a moment to remember his once strong desire to jump from his own high tower; so much had changed since then that the idea disturbed him.

“Not only did he jump, but he landed safely on a bale of hay at the bottom…he called it…the Leap of Faith. Exhilarating!” Faith’s face seemed to glow under her straw hat, her lips unable to contain the large grin that filled her face. Aaron, however, was skeptical…and fearful. It was as though Faith had saved him from one jump only to propel him towards another only this time…he was not looking forward to it. Not at all.

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I hope you enjoyed the little excerpt from one of my short stories called Walking by Faith, playing around with that theme of walking by faith by having a character named Faith. The basis of this story is the idea of self discovery and also how God reveals himself in nature. Within the course of the story itself you will see that outworking of revelation through the eyes of energetic, optimistic Faith and the skeptical, despairing Aaron.

As always, please feel free to leave a comment, message etc. Thank you for taking the time to read and visit my blog. May you have a blessed week!

One for the Kids!

Approved Workmen Are Not Ashamed.

2 Timothy 2:15 – Do your best to present yourself to God as one approved, a worker who has no need to be ashamed, rightly handling the word of truth.

This is the verse that echoes through the church building Friday evenings, by a loud chorus of high-pitched individuals, ready for a great evening of fun and learning. Working with kids is such a blessing and I am indeed grateful to the Lord for having brought me to this ministry. At such a young and teachable age, kids are able to listen and take in what is being taught to them with a child like faith…don’t we sometimes wish we had that kind of faith: taking the truth at face value.

This blog post however is not about how teachable kids are or having a childlike faith, but rather on writing for kids as a means of reaching them without necessarily preaching to them. Writing stories for kids, stories that would contain biblical values, principles, truths, verses maybe even characters that the kids can embrace and relate to, all of whom would point to Christ and His work on the cross. Of course I would not want to minimize Christ nor His works, nor would I want to dumb down the gospel for the sake of my stories. However, I do want to reach the kids on a level that they can understand and grasp the crux of the stories, gaining some knowledge about the bible, about Christ, about the Holy Spirit and about God.

I found a great post  on writing biblical stories for children and its on par with what I am trying to achieve. It was written by Rose Ross Zediker who is a Christian author. The post below belongs to her and you can read the full article here: http://www.writing-world.com/children/bible.shtml

Biblical Retelling

A Biblical retelling must stay true to the Bible verse. Don’t add characters or character names if they aren’t in the Bible story. Choose a point of view and stick with it. Most Biblical retellings are in third person, but some can be told in first person.

Rephrasing the dialogue of a Bible verse can get tricky. The language must be kid friendly yet not change the meaning of what the character says. Keeping your target age group in mind, find and replace the difficult words in the text with simpler words. Look for words children may be familiar with but don’t really understand. Sin is a simple word yet children may not really grasp its meaning, try to define those types of words by inserting an explanation of the word.

Enrich your story with the addition of emotions, actions and setting details. A few simple words like water jars and robes transport the children into the Biblical life style and holds their attention.

The first paragraph of The Parable of the Good Samaritan (Luke 10:25 NIV) says:

On one occasion an expert in the law stood up to test Jesus. “Teacher,” he asked, “what must I do to inherit eternal life?”

A retelling in the first person viewpoint of the expert in the law could begin:

Finally! I had a chance to test Jesus by asking a question. I knew the laws. I stood with my shoulders back and head held high. I looked into Jesus eyes. “Teacher,” I asked “what must I do now so someday I can live in Heaven?”

A third person viewpoint may be retold like this:

A smart man who knew the law wanted to test Jesus. The man smoothed his robes as he stood. He raised his eyebrows in question. “Teacher,” he asked, “what do I need to do now so I can live in Heaven when I die?”

In both retellings, actions were added to show the man’s confidence in his own knowledge. This makes the story more interesting for the child but doesn’t change the meaning of any of the original verse.

Contemporary Retelling

A contemporary retelling is a modern story with a beginning, middle and end. The theme of the contemporary Bible story retelling must reflect the lesson of the Bible verse. Apply the verse’s message to a real life situation. This real life situation must be believable so the child can apply the lesson to their daily lives. You can’t tag on the moral of the Bible verse at the end of the story. The lesson has to unfold during the story and the readers need to care about the characters and situation.

The following is a synopsis of a contemporary retelling of Luke 10:25:

A young girl and her mother wait at the bus stop. The young girl notices the people around her. She sees an old man in worn clothes and thick glasses approach the bench. The man politely asks a businessman for the time. The businessman frowns at the old man and refuses to tell him the time. The young girl can’t figure out why the businessman is being so mean to the old man. Two teen-age boys walk past the bus stop. Again, the old man politely asks for the time. One young boy looks at his watch but the other pulls him along, telling him not to talk to bums. The old man worries that he’s missed his bus. The old man looks sad and the young girl knows that Jesus would want her to help. She asks her mother if she can tell him the time. Her mother says yes and the young girl shows kindness to the old man by telling him the time so he doesn’t miss his bus.

This modern retelling synopsis is true to the Bible verse. Two sets of people won’t tell the elderly gentleman the time. However, an unlikely source, a young girl shows this stranger kindness. The theme of the Bible verse is shown in the last action of the contemporary story, the young girl helps the elderly man by telling him the time.

Copyright © 2007 Rose Ross Zediker

The Sword of the Spirit – Novel

An inspired scribe once called it the sword of the spirit, a powerful tool to use in any battle one would face. Yet mine lay by my bedside table; unused. I eyed it warily, aware of its power yet unable to utilize it. How could this leather-bound, collection of letters, historical events and biographical writings hold such a power? Surely there must be a secret to how it must be interpreted in order to gain access to the power within. Can it even be trusted? Do the words within this ancient book really possess so great a power that they can completely change lives? Or is there something more to it all…

~Excerpt from The Sword of the Spirit – 1st Draft ~

Finally, be strong in the Lord and in the strength of His might. Put on the full armor of God, so that you will be able to stand firm against the schemes of the devil.

For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the powers, against the world forces of this darkness, against the spiritual forces of wickedness in the heavenly places.
Therefore, take up the full armor of God, so that you will be able to resist in the evil day, and having done everything, to stand firm.
Stand firm therefore, HAVING GIRDED YOUR LOINS WITH TRUTH, and HAVING PUT ON THE BREASTPLATE OF RIGHTEOUSNESS,
and having shod YOUR FEET WITH THE PREPARATION OF THE GOSPEL OF PEACE;
in addition to all, taking up the SHIELD OF FAITH with which you will be able to extinguish all the flaming arrows of the evil one.
And take THE HELMET OF SALVATION, and the SWORD OF THE Spirit, which is the word of God.
With all prayer and petition pray at all times in the Spirit, and with this in view, be on the alert with all perseverance and petition for all the saints,
and pray on my behalf, that utterance may be given to me in the opening of my mouth, to make known with boldness the mystery of the gospel,
for which I am an ambassador in chains; that in proclaiming it I may speak boldly, as I ought to speak.

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This is a novel I have been working on for over a year now based on Ephesians 6: 10-20. I must admit that its been an erratic journey and the inspiration ebbs and flows and at times I stop and wonder where it’s all going. However I will not stop working on it because I love what it represents to us; protection all the time. We rely on  a strength that is not our own in order to stand firm against an enemy greater than us but nowhere near as great as the source of our strength. We prepare ourselves for the daily battles we face, courageously, knowing that God has put in place means by which we can stand firm and again those means rely heavily on Him who provides those means. It’s like an endless circle (redundancy for EMPHASIS hehe) of submission and faith on our part, trusting God and His promises, which is something I want to explore and present in this novel. It is one thing to know what the pieces of armour are and one thing to pray them on each morning in preparation for the day, but it’s another thing to see what having that armour on looks like. Let me end with lyrics of a wonderful song that I hope encourages you! Have a blessed week!

O church, arise and put your armor on;
Hear the call of Christ our captain;
For now the weak can say that they are strong
In the strength that God has given.
With shield of faith and belt of truth
We’ll stand against the devil’s lies;
An army bold whose battle cry is “Love!”
Reaching out to those in darkness.

Our call to war, to love the captive soul,
But to rage against the captor;
And with the sword that makes the wounded whole
We will fight with faith and valor.
When faced with trials on ev’ry side,
We know the outcome is secure,
And Christ will have the prize for which He died—
An inheritance of nations.

Come, see the cross where love and mercy meet,
As the Son of God is stricken;
Then see His foes lie crushed beneath His feet,
For the Conqueror has risen!
And as the stone is rolled away,
And Christ emerges from the grave,
This vict’ry march continues till the day
Ev’ry eye and heart shall see Him.

So Spirit, come, put strength in ev’ry stride,
Give grace for ev’ry hurdle,
That we may run with faith to win the prize
Of a servant good and faithful.
As saints of old still line the way,
Retelling triumphs of His grace,
We hear their calls and hunger for the day
When, with Christ, we stand in glory.

 ~ Image courtesy of: http://godsbreath.net/JUNEDEVOTIONS.aspx ~

Lamentations

Rain drops keep falling on my head

Lam·en·ta·tion noun/lamənˈtāSHən/

~ The passionate expression of grief or sorrow; weeping.

         I think many can attest to the fact that, music can play on your emotions greatly, especially during certain periods in your life whether its a time of sorrow or joy. There is a song for each emotion and each situation we can find ourselves in. I found myself listening to the Gaither Vocal Band, which is one of my favourite A Capella groups ever. They were singing a slower version of “O Love That Will Not Let Me Go” (the only other version I know is sung at a faster pace by  Chris Rice) and I was actually overwhelmed by emotion at the words which go:

O Love that will not let me go, I rest my weary soul in thee;

I give thee back the life I owe, That in thine ocean depths its flow,

May richer, fuller be.

O light that followest all my way, I yield my flickering torch to thee;

My heart restores its borrowed ray, That in thy sunshine’s blaze its day

May brighter, fairer be.

O Joy that seekest me through pain, I cannot close my heart to thee;

 I trace the rainbow through the rain, And feel the promise is not vain,

That morn shall tearless be.

O Cross that liftest up my head, I dare not ask to fly from thee;

I lay in dust life’s glory dead, And from the ground there blossoms red

Life that shall endless be.

Such powerful lyrics! What grace! What Mercy! Praise be to God and may His kingdom come!