Whistful dreaming

Imagine setting off for distant lands. To where the wind howls sharply, and snow ices the ground for months. Where no food tastes the same. Where languages are different.
Where you can walk right over the border and be in a different world.

Imagine that...

I mean New Zealand is alright in itself, it's all I've ever known. But what's over that mountain? What's across that sea? Ah, wanderlust...just wait and see

the next one

The Battle Surrendered

Part Six

Storyteller SilverLoom

     I cried myself to sleep.

     A gentle touch pulled me from my slumber. I looked up. It was Him.

     As fresh tears cascaded down my face, He pulled me into His arms. “I’m sorry,” I sobbed out.

     “Dear heart,” He said tenderly. “I forgive you.”

     He held me until my wails evolved into hiccupping spasms. Then He helped me stand. “Come on,” He said. “You can’t stay here.” Taking that small gold key from his pocket again, He unbound my chained hands and feet.

     I followed Him to the rope dangling into my prison through the crack in the wall. He gestured at our escape route and said, “Ladies first.”

     I tried to pull myself up the rope, but the sides of my prison had somehow become smoother than last time, and my feet couldn’t find a good hold. If I hadn’t been so weak from days without eating, I may have been able to climb it, but I’m not sure.

     After a few tries, I turned to Jesus. “I can’t do it. I can’t climb up.”

     He nodded. “It’s always harder to escape the second time.”

     “So, we’re stuck in here?!” I panicked aloud.

     He waited.

     I remembered Who I was talking to. Not even a sealed tomb could keep Him in, much less my prison. “Can You help me get out? Please?”

     With an ear-to-ear smile, He replied, “I was hoping you would ask.”

     He climbed the rope as easily as a fish swims; the slick wall could not hinder Him. When He was safely above ground, He told me to hang onto the rope. I obeyed, and He slowly drew me up. We were both under the blue sky in a matter of minutes.

     Jesus untied the rope from the tree He had secured it to. As He began coiling the rope, a thought suddenly hit me, but I hesitated to voice it. He stopped His work and looked at me. “Go ahead,” He said.

     “Jesus,” I began, “I know my capture was my own fault; I shouldn’t have given into the shadow creatures. But… why didn’t You help me? Didn’t You… I mean, You must have known what was happening. Didn’t You wake up?”

     His eyes grew deeply sad. “Yes, dear heart, I knew what was happening. I was watching.” His voice cracked just a bit. “But,” He added, “you didn’t ask Me to help. You were too busy trying to fight them on your own.”

     “I have to ask for Your help?” How could He have just stood there and let me be dragged off? I was incredulous.

     He was patient. “You have to want my help. I never force it on anyone; I will only help you if you want Me to. My way is the perfect way, but I gave you a free will to accept or decline My help.”

     So it was still all my fault.

     We started walking through the forest, covering the same ground we had covered before. The sun moved across the sky slowly, but I kept a close eye on it. When it was past noon, I spoke up, “Hey, um, Jesus. Do You think now would be a good time to start my training? Because, those shadow creatures might come back for me tonight and I want to be prepared.”

     “Your training has already begun.”

     “What?” I cried. “But all I’ve done is get captured! You haven’t even given me the smallest bit of advice on how to wield a sword!”

     He stopped and turned to look at me. “Did I ever say your training would involve weapons?”

     “Um, well, not exactly….”

     “I never hinted at anything of the sort.”

     “But that’s what training is!” I protested.

     Shaking His head, He explained, “You train to become better at something, and it doesn’t have to be with weapons. Athletes train to race better. Warriors train to fight better.”

     “But I thought You were going to train me to be a warrior to fight the shadow creatures!”

     He looked me in the eyes before responding gently, “Dear heart, I am training you not to fight.”

Something that didn't work yesterday

the computer went mad yesterday, so here it is today:

The Battle Surrendered

Part Five

Storyteller SilverLoom

     The shadow creatures were back.

     Again they pulled at me with their freezing hands. I cried out, “No!” and tried to stand, but they kept me firmly fixed to the ground. I looked around for Jesus, but the shadow creatures surrounded me and blocked my view of Him.

      Suddenly, there was that same dizzying light. The same feeling of stupor. The same urge to give in.

     No! I willed myself to fight back. I felt that I couldn’t fail again. I couldn’t let myself give in.

     But the shadow creatures did not let me go, and I couldn’t tear myself from them. I wondered if I really wanted to. Was that prison so bad? Were the chains so heavy? And Jesus would rescue me as soon as I asked Him to. He was nice like that.

     The intoxicating aura of false peace washed over me, irresistible. The creature leaned over and whispered, “Followmeee….”

     I don’t even remember the first step this time. All I know is that I found myself starting awake, once again, in the prison tower with the vague recollection that I had chained myself there.

     I had never thought I would fall into the same trap. If it had been horrible the first time I failed, it was double the horror now.

     And then I thought of Him. I’d let Him down. And that was the greatest heartbreak of all. How could I have ever thought He would rescue me again? And even if He did, how could I face Him?

     My shame overwhelmed me. My guilt was heavier than my shackles. I mourned and moaned in the tower for days. No one came, which only made my sorrow deepen, until it was so deep I felt like I could drown in it.

     I was hungry, thirsty, tired, and cold. It was the closest to death I had ever been.

     Finally, just when I thought I would burst from the pain, I did the only thing left to be done. I cried out for help.

     “God,” I whispered, “I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry. Please… help me. I’ll die without You.”

     I cried myself to sleep.


I think I might do two today, else it's a very sssssssllllllllllooooooooooowwwwwww businesss 

Part Four

and a belated four

The Battle Surrendered

Part Four

Storyteller SilverLoom

     He shouldered the coiled rope and strode into the forest.

     I scurried after Him, calling, “Wait! Where are we going?”

     “Follow me.”

     I halted. “Did You just quote Yourself?”

     Thankfully, He understood my sense of humor and laughed. “Yes, I tend to do that. It makes it easier for people to see things the way I do.”

     “And that’s supposed to mean…?” I asked as I again hurried to keep up with Him.

     “That I never change. I am the same at this moment as I was two-thousand years ago, and as I was at the creation of the universe. Today, tomorrow, and yesterday, I remain the same. And so I can quote Myself in everything.”

     We continued walking. And walking. And… walking. The forest floor was uncommonly free of debris, and a soft carpet of moss covered the earth, much to the glee of my bare feet. But after several hours of walking, and walking, and… walking, I finally said, “Ok, don’t get me wrong. I want to follow You wherever You go. But can You give me some clue as to where we’re headed? Please?”

     “We are going home,” Jesus replied.

     I gasped audibly, feeling both excitement and fear. He took one look at my face and cracked up. “No, dear heart! I mean your house. It’s not your time yet.”

     “Oh,” I said. Then I saw the funny side of it and laughed along with Him. After a few minutes, it finally occurred to me what He had said. “Hey! Why are You taking me back home? You said You were going to train me!” I cried.

     “No worries,” He replied. “We won’t arrive until you’re trained.”

     It took me a while to try to sort that out. “So… You’ll be training me on the way?”

     “Yes. We won’t get there until you’re trained.”

     “Oh, ok. Gotcha.” Little did I suspect that I had no clue what He meant.

     We walked some more. And walked. And… well, you know. But it wasn’t as boring as it sounded. The forest was beautiful and peaceful, and I was walking beside the Prince of Peace.

     Presently, Jesus remarked, “We’ll stop here and make camp. We’ll continue your training in the morning.”

     I can’t deny that I gave Him a funny glance. Continue? I wasn’t aware that we had started. I hadn’t even touched a sword or a bow yet!

     He stripped the lower branches off some nearby trees and soon had a small fire going. We ate bread and drank water that came from the pack He carried on His back.

     We slept on the soft moss under some light blankets from Jesus’s pack. The weather was perfect. I didn’t feel cold until early in the morning.

     Shivering, I pulled the blanket more tightly around me. My eyelids fluttered for just a second, but what I saw in that moment made me sit up and scream.

     The shadow creatures were back.

Well how 'bout that?

Part two

For all those who could wait for the next one [I'm included]

The Battle Surrendered    Part Two     Storyteller SilverLoom   

    The next thing I knew, I was blinking as if I had just woken up and saw that I was no longer in my bedroom.

     The eerie light was gone. The shadow creatures were gone. I was completely alone in a dark, damp prison. The only light in the place filtered in from a crack far above me. Someone had chained my ankles and wrists to the stone floor of the dungeon. I had a vague memory of the creatures telling me to chain myself up.

     Now I realized just how dumb I had been to follow the shadow creatures. “Hello?” I called. No answer except for the constant dripping of water from a corner of my prison. “Hey! Let me go! Get me out of here!” I yelled. Was it my imagination, or did I hear malicious laughter coming from the darker parts of the dungeon?

     My heart pounded with fear. I had never thought something like this could happen to me. This sort of thing only happened to people in books. It wasn’t supposed to happen in real life.

     A scream welled up inside of me and I let it go, along with a torrent of tears. The worst part of it was that I knew I had put myself in this place; that I hadn’t fought hard enough.

     I curled up on the cold stone floor and sobbed. Then I called for the only One who could hear me. “God, please… please help me! I don’t know where I am! I shouldn’t have given in. Please! Help me!”

     As my tears fell afresh, the light from the crack in the wall suddenly disappeared. I stopped mid-sob and froze. I even held my breath.

     A voice reverberated off the solid walls of my prison. “Hello, down there!”

     I looked up at the crack. The face of a man stared back at me, his head almost completely covering the crack. He had the widest smile I had ever seen. “Not the most comfortable place to live, I’d say,” he remarked in a friendly manner.

     I wiped my teary eyes with my pajama sleeve. “Can… can you get me out?” I stammered. I felt reluctant to trust this guy, afraid this was another trap.

     His smile grew even larger. “That’s what I came here to do; to help you out." His face drew back from the hole as he stood.

     I waited while he hacked away at the stone, making the crack large enough for him to crawl through. It was a few minutes before I realized that he was using his sword to send the bricks of my prison tumbling down. That was one strong blade.

     Finally, he secured a rope outside the dungeon and used it to climb down through the gap he had made. He looked like a prince out of a fairy tale; dressed from head to toe in white stitched with gold thread, a voluminous cape thrown over his shoulders.

     When he stood in front of me, I lifted my shackled wrists up and said wistfully, “I’m chained. I don’t know where the key is.”...

And that's all for now more tomorrow ;P

-Miss Tiffany

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

story brewin' -'gain

I feel like writing something, my lovely guinea pigs.
Beware:

Should sailing through wind stop you?
The sentence scripted on the wall, held her spell bound, sailing through wind?
Would not slicing be a better word? She thought of the gail-force eastilys that rode in
across the waves, sail through that?  
What could it mean?
She touched the writing, and gazed down the "hall" this place was strange, [hold onto your imaginations people]
This whole wall was covered with history, in fact the entire building was drenched with it.
"I wonder what this place was built for?"She whispered to herself "That it be crumbling on the outside, but not a day old in, how curious!
She walked along this wall toward the front of the room, letting her fingers trail on the cold stone. She was unaware that the letters and words she touched, were turned into the shining blues of a peacocks tail, behind her.Or that the same colour was filling her footsteps.Onward she walked, up on to a dias the tattered blue carpet crunching under each.She reached the top step and turned around and looked down at the long hall, she saw the grey walls and wooden floor all the way down to the open door in the corner, it was a long way, but she could still make out the willows bending in the punishing wind.

All of a sudden she felt cold. A gust of wind must have come in, she thought, as she rubbed her bare arms. She turned around to see if there was any good carpet to cover her arms.She gasped, the wall that had once been stone had turned into a giant sapphire curtain, spanning floor and ceiling.The wind caught it, and as it rippled the letters of the word Istenba appeared in burning blue.The world she saw  jumped but her vision never refoucsed, she stepped back, she felt like she was wading through oil.
She lost her blance and kneeled over, slowly, because of the... air. The ground opened up beneath her,
a black abyss, she screamed and tried to stop herself, but she kept falling, the air was forced out of her lungs, everything turned black.

She woke up to the crashings of waves against a beach, she sat up slowly, her head spinning, it was dawn.



Aaaaaaannndddddd I have to eat tea

-Miss Tiffany