Showing posts with label misc. Show all posts
Showing posts with label misc. Show all posts

Thursday, 9 April 2015

A strange life

Christianity
How are we meant to live with a name so mangled? This religion that has a history so marked?
We are so human…

Atheism vs Christianity google an article on either and you’ll see ragged back lashing from either side. Except the Christians claim to love them, Christians say it, but don’t seem to show it.
Where is Jesus?

I am a 17 year old girl living in rural New Zealand.  A backwater compared to the rest of the world I’m sure. I spend most of my time studying and working, realizing that this what is expected of a middle class woman and that I’ll probably be doing one or the other for the rest of my life.
How does this all relate? I’m not sure; maybe it’s a young person who’s trying to point out what is wrong in the world, what’s wrong with her religion, and what’s mixed up in the fact that in the academic world my opinion is nothing. That my life must somehow be the same because I don’t have enough money for a P.H.D. the only thing that lets you have an opinion.
That because I am a ‘good Christian girl” nobody is ever going to want my advice, my help, or my words.  That because I've never been raped, tortured, attempted suicide or been beaten I can’t legitimately help in things I believe need it the most. That no prostitute is ever going to listen to me because I know nothing. And maybe things are meant to be that way. Maybe I’ll live my life, get a job, get a house, get married have kids and die in a rest home.   

Or maybe there is a God out there who is bigger than my circumstances, who say it doesn't have to be that way. That it could be a lot more adventurous, a lot more giving and a whole lot harder.
Or maybe I’m meant to wait in a pew until I get my calling thrust upon me.
I’m pretty sure the guy who said give yourself as living sacrifice didn't have passive waiting in mind. Not that waiting is a bad thing. But for me it’s never really worked.

I guess what I am saying to myself and every Christian out there is we have to do something real. Regardless of the fact that someday the world will end. Regardless of the fact that goodness and heaven are somehow linked.  We have to find it in ourselves to reach out for the good of ourselves and the good of the world.


Rant over


Wednesday, 5 September 2012

Greetings, me wee guinea pigs!

I've got some reading for you: How 'bout dat? [ uh english please! how about that]

So strong it brings many to their knees, so gripping it leaves one empty.
Like water it fills a well but leaves it dry with thirst. It is demanding.
Like a story that can never be told, a story that that can never be expressed.A story that has incredible power that only the witnesses can dream of retelling. It is unexplainable. It carves out one's heart, it is like a strong wind, it is so big, it is so un-describe-able, how can it ever be put into words? It bursts through walls of iron as if they were made of feathers: It can not be stopped. Some maybe afraid of its rising tide, but I am not. It is so un-contain-able, yes so very terrible, words can not express the thunder of its coming, or the pin drop silence that place when the Master comes, when the hem of the His robe brushes a human's heart, the burning desire for Him that only He can awake. The beauty of its voice. The great honor of of its calling. The immense power, the huge-ness. The GRACE!!. The vastness. It crushes the universe with blinding light. It is so mysterious, it leaves the watcher in tears.To see this is an incredible honor, that can be seen... for free!
It is not to be taken lightly, it takes the broken, the unqualified, the outcast, the shamed and shunned. It takes their pain away, such a beautiful release, such undeserved grace.It can't be compared to anything   ....ever. Without a price!                  
  
It pulls, it tugs, it unravels an adventure, takes the elderly over mountains the children over seas.It falls like rain. Those in its rising flood, turn to those in the desert "Won't you come?! Taste of the rain! Feel the surge of the water! Wade into its unfathomed depths.
Drown in the swells! Here you fear nothing, you need not bring anything except yourselves. Be prepared to change in strange ways.
Oh, sink in the waters of love!"

For it is love that topples many, that sweeps through and leaves one longing for more.Love that tells a story that can never be retold, it craves out the heart with longing; it drives like the wind, it is so large, one can easily lose oneself. Love flies through
every defense. Some are afraid of its changing powers, but the ones who have tasted aren't, no one should, the love is un-hate-able.

Love can never be captured, yet it was nailed to a tree, it is so terrible, terribly magnificent. From the nails blood ran, like water; love can never be stopped. The sweetness of love's voice whispers "Father...forgive"

Without love the earth trembles and breaks mourning its loss to the skies that have lost all color, all light, all stars and moon.
Sweltering blackness has fallen. All suffocates in its thick tangible flow. All can that be seen is a trickle of blood , the trickle of life
the trickle of love ... dying.

Frigid tensions run through the skies agonizing groans ripple through the earth, the surface between is paralysed with fear.
For three risings of the sun the world os empty of life, is stripped of its essence. The earth cries out in grief. The people are the only ones unaware that the universe is in its death throws. They wake on their Sabbat to worship a dead love.

In another world love enters. A kingdom black, heavy, soaked in evil. A place where blood is the water. A place that has never known love. A place reeking with hate, murder. A place where the sun was too scared to rise... the land of fear.
Then like the ripping of curtains, like the crashing of thunder, like a fork of lighting. Love enters, the first rays of its liberating dawn span across a wasted landscape. A delightful aroma arises like steam. Darkness flees, things begin to grow, the sewers of blood vanish. Life has arrived. In the middle of this land is a towering mountain atop of this is an empty pool, Love lands on the  east side of this, the angel of light [ The devil was an angel + most people wouldn't listen to something devil-ish looking I picture him like so:] with dark blood dripping from his hands, the prince of darkness, crouches on the other side. Into the pool bright blood pours: flowing from the one named Love. The dark Prince trembles and hands Love an ancient looking pair of keys.
"Love" leaves the land. Darkness returns.

On earth it is the hours before light. The weary earth will yet again see a lifeless sun rise, the plants will another day suffocate
with its dying presence. Yet the people are unaware that this day the curtain will tear, that from this day the earth will never be the same again. And yet shepherds lie by their sheep and kings by their treasure -sleeping! 

The sky lightens to a deep purple. A breeze blows across the earth. The trees, plants waters and oceans stir beneath its power.
The wind carries a secret; a promise of change.

And then light, blinding light, rips across the land. You can almost hear the universe laughing with unimaginable joy. The ocean dance frenzied dances of happiness,the earth rumbles with delight and the sky shouts out its pleasure. The very air jumps with excitement.
Love has returned!
It's still hear, right now. Unknown to most is its power, its force and its name: Jesus.
Some are still in the desert of darkness, some are still slaves to another world to a dark force.
Few are in the rain of love, few feel its strong insistent pull.But it is there for anyone should they just see what 
"love" has done for them and repent of their sins, freedom is there, joy is there, peace is there for the broken who ask

So what think you?
Impatiently awaiting your comments
-Tiffany

Monday, 6 August 2012

Help Ex

Help Ex is help exchange. It's where someone who is travelling stays at a person's house [called a host]
and in exchange for food and a bed they work 4-3 hours at the host's place. Well we have a help ex at our house [our first] a Malayasian called Joyce, she came last night and she's staying in my room [I'm in Petra's as my room is actually the guest, hence the double bed] It's rather weird and I'm having mixed feelings, I mean she's really nice, but one does like the idea of having one's house to one's self again.
It's really strange, it's like having an elder sister or 2nd mother [and thats really queer if you happen to be the eldest child, as am I]

Anyway its really late, I've been posting lots today, I know and I am really looking forward to your comments;D!!!!

See DeadBoringders* at DB

*Petra's invention

Tiffany

non-writer gone play-wright?!!!

Can it get any worse?
Not only am I writing stories I am being asked to make up plays!!!
I've already done one, for Sunday School, my actors were myself [teehee] Samara, my sis, Noah and Julia, my young friends.It was a spiritual war combat, type thing. S' was the Christian then Noah and Julia ran in covered in black [faces veiled] -"evil ones" there was a mock punch up, [my actors were already specially trained, hint hint, Noah W..... is the best real looking puncher I know]
Then I came in as the "big" evil one and the fight increased and we try drag S' away from her bible but she ends up praying and we fall over [summary]
One guy from church goes by the name of Cyrus though it was really powerful, and I'm like, ok, wow!
-I was just rewriting a bad play we had to do for sunday school.

And now I've been asked to make one up to do in front of the whole church and have 2 Adult supporters who will do all the organizing of costumes practises etc but otherwise I'm in charge, and I feel like a play-wright, now the next thing to do is write.
So my prayer request is that God would give me the inspiration, something that will touch someone, if only one for ever and for good, I'd really love it if you had time to do so.

Any way
A more than slightly nervous Tiffany

Thursday, 12 July 2012

Nothing much

I'm at home what do I see?The gum tree being pressed over by the lengendary nor'west wind.The 'wise' sheep sitting in the shade of the dominating willow. All around the house I hear the wind dancing, whistling, bumping into it as if was in the way. Well I suppose it is .It is very sunny here but  not warm enough for T'shirts [by far] just the golden enough to make one think it's spring.

Anyway that was a piece of random writing, I wanted to write about something, but nothing terribly interesting . I'm gonna have to find something to write about.Oh we're going to be in the Rangiora kids market tomorrow.  

Miss Tiffany

Monday, 9 July 2012

A night of characters

I was in the library the other day shelving books, when I thought would it be worse to spend a night in the muesem {give up cannot spell that word Mum can't either} or a night in the library. I asked S' and she wasn't sure. Now just in case you were wondering, well, it'd be 'bout the same both are public places, no big deal. Well that'd make sense if you haven't seen or read A night in the muesum , the basic idea is that all the creatures wake up at night and walk around.

So I was wondering, would it be worse to have a library full of characters jump out at you, or have a lot of stuffed animals come to life?
My opinion, the library by far, I mean I wouldn't mind meeting Whinne the Pooh,  Jobyna, Lucy, Mr-Tumnus,  Aslan, Elizabeth Bennet,  Emma Woodhouse  or Lady Grace Cavendish
But if I were to meet The White Witch,  Jack Frost [ok he's not really all that bad, more a silly fool ],  Veruca the Vile,  Gredal [I had to add my villans:)], Eillad or any of the Villans that are sure to be found in every book, I sure I wouldn't know what to do that's not even talking of their helpers, armies or horrors.
I haven't even started with the Non Fiction - all the serial killers, murders, Hitler, Stalin etc

You would find only the non fictionists in a meusem [at best] the worst might be the Dinosaur skeletons  on display, but, hey, they're in books too, fiction or no.


A writer should remember, I think that, the more realistic they paint their character the more able s/he is
able to step out of the page.
And I know all too well that characters have a bad habit of doing just that.

By the way this is my first long post, there will be more... :)

I like writing about characters


Miss Tiffany  
          

P.S DB story ideas anyone?