A Christmas post

Hi everyone I'm back!
Exams are all over and done and now I'm looking forward to Christmas and relaxing... yeah this is going to be a kind of Christmasy post, only because I thought I'd share with you this speech I did on Christmas characters. It's more of a an expose, but I really enjoyed researching it so I hope you enjoy it as well! (Note: I am not implying that you should stop doing Christmas or anything, this is just purely for interest)

Christmas Characters

When you think of Christmas what comes to mind?...
Santa Claus or Father Christmas is what we might think of but for children and adults across the centuries, many other Christmas characters come to mind...
In this post I'm going to cover a few characters from different countries and ages. For each one we're going to look at their Christmas legend, their origins and also how they compare to Santa Claus.

The first character is Odin. Odin was a old Norse god, often depicted as having a long beard, a broad floppy hat and a dark cloak. He carries a spear and has only one eye (as the other was lost in some battle)

(Wikipedia)

Odin's link to Christmas is that every year during the Winter Solstice (21st of December) he would lead a ghostly procession of the dead across the sky, on his eight legged horse Sleipnir. During this time children would leave hay and carrots in their boots by the chimney, as food for Sleipnir and in return Odin would leave a present by their boots. 

Apart from this Odin is known as someone who searches for and gives wisdom, yet has no regard for 

laws or justice. He is a complex character, both a 'war god' and a 'poetry god', and generally is a bit sinister.

Similarly to Santa he leaves presents in footwear and rides an animal through the night sky. An interesting thing to note is that Odin's stead has eight legs and Santa has eight reindeer. But other than that Odin seems and interesting choice for a children's hero.

La Befana

La Befana is the Italian gift giver who holds a place equal to Santa for many Italians. She is a good witch who is seen flying on her broomstick on Epiphany eve (January 5th) with her sack full of presents and candy for good children, and she also carries lumps of coal for the bad ones.

(Historyandwomen.com)

As popular legend has it Befana was visited by the three wise men on their way to see baby Jesus. She invited them to stay the night at her house as she was the only housekeeper in the village. In return the Magi invited her to come with them on their journey, but Befana declined saying she had too much cleaning to do and so the wise men left. Later on Befana changed her mind and after gathering some presents she went after them, but the star disappeared and she got lost. And ever since then, she has been giving present to children in the hopes of getting baby Jesus.

But, however, the origins of Befana seem much older than Christianity...Many believe she is based on the Roman goddess Strina who gave gifts at New Year. Befana may also be the older state of the Celtic mother nature who's figure used to be burnt on a bonfire at the end of each year. Interestingly enough a figure of Befana is still sometimes burnt on a bonfire. 

Befana is similar to Santa in the way that she flies through the air and carries gifts in a sack. Befana is also known to slip down the chimney to deliver her gifts. However she said to be poorer than Santa and so Italian children ask Santa for the expensive presents and Befana for the lighter, more inexpensive presents that Santa didn't bring.

Julenisse

The Julenisse, as you can see here, looks a lot like Santa. He is about the size of a child and is rather slim. He wear a red cap and traditional Scandinavian farmers clothes.

On Christmas eve the Julenisse travels around Scandinavia with his sack full of presents, knocking on doors and asking if there are "any good children inside."

(Johannasdeckarhorna)

The Julenisse is a blend of several characters, but he is mostly based on the Nisse, a figure from Scandinavian folklore. The Nisse were solitary, temperamental barn sprites that loved playing practical jokes. They were only found on farms, where they would help the farm prosper by doing farm work and taking care of the animals. In return all they asked for was respect and Christmas porridge with butter on top on Christmas eve. There is one story about a Nisse flying into a rage and killing a cow because the farmer had accidentally put the butter on the bottom of the porridge instead of the top. When the Nisse came back and ate the porridge he realized what a terrible mistake he'd made and so to patch things up, he went an stole a cow from another farm.

The Nisse however have origins in ancestor worship as the present farmer would try and appease the spirit of the original farmer (the Nisse) to gain his favor.

The modern Julenisse (Julenisse = Christmas Nisse) unlike Santa lives in a nearby country or forest. He doesn't slide down the chimney, instead he walks right up to the door. However he has now been more 'santafied' as he now rides in a sleigh drawn by reindeer, although these reindeer can't fly.

Santa

Most of us know that Santa came from St Nicholas, and was popularized by the Coca Cola ad in 1930. What is not so well known is that Santa was heavily influenced by the Holly King.

(ashsilverlock.com)

The Holly King was the Celtic winter god who would battle with the Oak King (the summer god) during the winter and summer solstices to figure out who would reign. And funnily enough the Holly King won every winter solstice (21st of December). The Holly King is documented to have worn red, and ridden in a sleigh pulled by eight deer. Interestingly Santa nowadays has a sprig of holly in his hat.

Santa is also linked to Odin as before mentioned, with his night-riding and gift giving. 

His jolly character, flying vehicle and red clothes may also come from the Norse god Thor (yes that's the god of thunder and lightning)

(http://jefffsbeardboard.yuku.com)

Others trace aspects of his legend to Freyr (lord of the elves) La Befana and the Nisse.

So when it comes to Christmas who are we really celebrating?

Happy New Year etc etc etc

I'm not much for writing cheesy cliche posts about Christmas -I'm sure your dashboard is already full of them. But I will mention that we had heaps of fun with our German friends; trying lots of different flavours and sweets. We had a good time, but as I said I won't bore you.

New Years was so much fun, partying at a friends place, watching despicable me 2 with lots of friends, good food, sparklers and fire-works at midnight. Getting to bed at 1:30am ;)
Excuse me for a moment, I'm just about to tuck into a '9:30 breakfast' Haselnuss-hazelnut german chocolate, it has four little pieces in each packet and tastes delicious!!!

Apart from that we haven't been doing much lately, only recovering from the hectic sewing we did for the wedding (28th December last year ;) But we did go swimming today in the waterhole -cold. The weather hasn't been very summery lately :/

As for my writing, I haven't officially done anything. Although I've started on a new story: heehee naughty me! It's far more paranormal than anything I've ever written (which isn't very paranormal at all) I'm a little afraid of it as the beginning is a little spooky. Oh well I've got at least 2 more books to write before I seriously start looking at it. Yeah. At least two more, I've decided my fate as an author is going to be writing more than one book, because I just can't not write.

Oh and by the way I've dyed my hair red... not very red, more red velvet because of my dark hair but anyway I like the subtlety. I decided to go with commercial dye as it was cheaper (henna costs $30.00!) and a friend was able to do it on me. I've finally got used to looking in the mirror ;)

We've also been feasting on berries; cranberries, gooseberries, raspberries, strawberries, boysenberries and cherries. Very good, Especially when you get to have yoghurt, cream and raspberries on your cornflakes (best breakfast ever!!)

So as you can see we've had quite a lot of fun, how about you? what have you been doing these holidays?

And so it's Nov the 1st (depending on where you live)

So I've started, this morning as soon as I woke up :) well pretty much. Anyway want to hear it?
(disclaimer: I won't be posting here all the time, and I'm just writing enough to be cruel ;-) )

Down the dark, dank, cobbled streets of London the sister's trudged. They passed a beggar/child with sightless staring eyes and a steaming, feverish brow that had turned his sooty face to a mottled grey. A hat lay beside a wasted arm, there was barely a coin in it, but the sister's ignored his plaintive cries and carried on into the deeper filth of London's East-end.

An icy wind breathed down the narrow street and the sister's drew the tattered shawl they shared tighter    , they increased their pace; today had been pay-day at the factory and they needed to get home quickly before the infamous night dwellers, theives, murderers, whores and drunkards appeared.

On they scuttled quite unaware that one such night-dweller was watching them, stalking their progress.
Tonight there'd be murder done.

So how 'bout that? do you think it will do? Please comment, I adore your advice.

Miss Tiffany
( OH and I'll probably post most of the story over at where words are woven my other blog (yes I have two, one just for writing, feel free to read the other storys)  

ok results [drum roll]

Well mostly it was no, it shouldn't be hers.

But I've done some thinking. And for a while I was thinking it should be hers but then, the child would be young and it didn't quite fit for her to have a child growing up with her after the story is finished.
But I'm gonna make it so everyone thinks it's hers. Well, probably.    

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

My computer works!!!!!!!!

Dad has up graded the computer, so now things should work..... I'm sooooooo excited I had to post about it!!!I can use google chrome now tooo!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
-Can't wait to see what works Tiffy 

My production

Ok maybe thats a bit hopeful but my play is llooonnngggg -long-
here it is:
The Play
Lord of the dance music Scene: It's dark and misty, ash filled terror 

Act:

Slaves in rags pretending to pull a large weight. Slave drivers using their whips. Slaves fall on their knees [wind mill action if possible] looking agnonized and worn out. "Evil Ones" come in and torment slaves. Someone says "Who will give life to the lost?"

Person 1 walks in and is "kidnapped" and put into slavery. Person 2 comes from the other side, same thing happens. A man and his wife and child come in watch and look heart broken. 'Baddies' [evil ones and slave drivers] rush toward the family and try and put them into slavery. Man stands in front hands spread, protecting his wife and child. This goes on for a minute or so. Have a light [torch will do] turn on closer to the audience and have a girl pjs kneel at her "bed" Prays some like this [can be changed] 'Dear Lord Jesus, help the people in other countries' Her mum is there Main Play: White people come on and try and pull the baddies away, fight begins One white person goes and comforts the girl. fight continues. Man and wife pray.Man joins the fight, the 'baddies' are pushed away from some of the slaves. The wife and child free some of the slaves. Another family below prays. More white ones join the fight, black ones fight harder some fall. Another family below prays. And Jesus come, the 'baddies' fall or flee. The family unlocks the slaves. Have them praying and doing baptizing actions White people keep the lingering baddies out.Jesus is there. Have someone say"the war is not finished souls are still enslaved, near and

far, Do not stop praying, God hears the cries of his children .Many will be freed if you just ask.So what is holding you back?" 

Miss Tiffany

I've got it!!!!!!!! -I'm soo excited

Thank you for praying for me I've written the play out line, and its really funny cause the main theme is about people praying for other people, aka just what God can do if you pray.I scribble writ it this morning so I won't be typing it out in a hurry I have to re-write etc. I told it over the phone to one of the adult "supporters" and she thinks its awesome, its mostly mime with a little speaking.It's quite simple but it will require a lot of people.
Very excited Tiffany      

Update on plays

I've actually done the play, it was more miming as I don't like speaking or rather remembering the speaking :P. The summary I wrote was basically what happened except I said at the beginning The Christian walk is hard we have many things that try to stop us, thankfully we don't have to do it alone.
Anyway I think it is more powerful with words.Oh, when Samara prayed, that was aloud, but she didn't know what to say, so we wrote her piece in her bible and tried to pull her away from it.
Hope that makes more sense
-Tiffany