It Suits Me Just Right

Hey!

Well I was leafing through my writings and found this. I though that I'd posted this a few weeks ago, but I was wrong. So here this is!

May this make you think,

Jen

-

"Mac," I said, glaring at my little sister. "Would you please turn on something else? Something meaningful?"

She sighed, and turned off the pop music that blared through the truck speakers. "Is Lecrae alright?" 

I didn't really like rap, but Lecrae had good lyrics so I nodded my consent. Hearing the fast paced lyrics fly by helped me to re-focus my attention on the scenery. Utah was beautiful, and at times I could swear I was in Middle Earth. 

On the way to Bryce we had stopped in Virginia City, and toured a bit. The Mark Twain Museum, some shops, a pub, that sort of thing. The ride from Virginia City to Ely to Bryce was gorgeous of course, but rather devoid of life. 

Seriously, there was maybe four or five towns. That's it. Utah was pretty much the same as Nevada, except for the Middle-Earth-like aspect of it. 

Oh, I probably should have mentioned by now that I have never read the Lord of the Rings or the Hobbit. Yes, I know, but from all I've heard about it, Utah seems a lot like Middle Earth. 

Anyways, as I left the car, my legs sore and stiff from the hours scrunched up inside the van, I felt this  overwhelming need to hike up Inspiration Point. Bad idea. Very bad idea. 

Why? Because at 8,100 ft in the air, and climbing, my lungs wanted to burst. Mum and Mac were far below, waiting at the second viewpoint. 

"Mel!" I heard Mac's voice, but it sounded faint. "Don't climb to high!"

I shouted consent and kept climbing, my lungs hurting. But the view going up was what actually took my breath away. Glorious iron-oxidized (in case you didn't know, iron oxide is rust) limestone (so a rust-coloured limestone) rose into hoodoos and balancing rocks and caves. Forcing myself up the last fifty feet and across the trail, I almost dropped the camera. 

The dynamic shadows and rock formations shone in the last hours of sunlight. Immediately, I had forgotten about my lungs that were lacking air and my legs that moved like jelly. Just standing at this remarkable place made me feel...well, I don't have the words to describe what I felt. 

The formations were...immaculate, with features indescribable. "Mel!" My phone rang and I checked the text. "Come on down, the sun is setting." So I walked down, but gravity had other plans. 

Unused to hiking at high altitudes, my legs gave out under the pressure of gravity forcing me downhill. Bent at an odd angle, my legs were on fire, while one had bone sticking out and blood coming every where. "Oh Lord, not now, please not now!" 

Another hiker called the ambulance and I don't remember what happened next, all I remember is saying, "Lord, don't let me die."

I woke up in the hospital a day later, dazed and confused. "Mac?" I croaked out. "Mum?"

"I'm here Mel," Mac's voice came to my ears like a blessing in disguise. "Don't try to move, you broke your legs and lost a lot of blood. Doc said that your lucky to be alive, you lost so much blood."

I just wanted to hug God. I wasn't dead! And my family was well, well at least Mac was. "Hey Mac?" I asked after a glass of water slated my thirst. 

"Yeah Mel?"

"Where's Mum?" 

Mac looked down at her hands. "Mum, well, she, oh I can't!" And Mac, disregarding the tough tomboy that she is, broke down in tears. I moved my hand and placed it on hers, the only action of comfort I could force my weakened body to do. 

"Mac, what happened to her?"

Through choked tears, she answered. "Mum, when she saw you, well she had another heart attack. And after the last one being so close, well, Mel, she didn't make it." 

Tears were pouring down our faces. For so long it had been M cubed, Melissa, Mackenna, and Melody. Our dad had never been in the picture. My younger twin and I had never even met him before. Now, it didn't look like we'd have a choice. 

"Mac," I said in the tenderest voice I had. "Mamma's gone to be with Jesus. Why do you weep? Your not alone M, you still got me, and we can be M squared, just as we always have been. There is absolutely no reason to cry for her. She is in heaven."

Mac nodded and got ushered out by the doc who wanted to check me out after coming out of an apparently indefinite coma. I was fine, minus the two broken legs and oxygen that I needed to have for the next two months. 

Three months later, after rehab and oxygen, we were finally allowed to go back to Great Britan. And we were taken to meet dad.

Well, that's all I have to write now. Maybe I'll tell you about Dad when I can, but I'm still a bit weak. Mac has been brilliant about all of this, and I can't believe that God brought me through. I guess that near death experience made Him and I a lot closer, and my faith somehow stronger. 

And I thank God for every day in my life, because it suits me just right. 

Love you Gram,

Mel

Who are you rolling with?

 Hey!
So this was written by Abby (by now, you should be familiar with this awesome young woman) and I for one, quite enjoyed this one. 
May this make you think,
Jen

-

 “OMG, look, he’s looking at me!” “Ahhhhh he texted me!” “He smiling at me! How can this be happening?!?” You know that feeling, when your crush or just a really cute guy smiles at you from across the room or texts you or, *squeels*, actually talks to you. All of the sudden your world turns upside down and your heart’s beating so fast you feel like your chest is going to explode and you can’t breathe and you just want to faint from happiness. And then things start progressing, and he asks you out, and you’re ready to die from happiness. Then you guys start dating and you feel like you’re floating. You’re on a cloud nine and you never want to come down. And that’s great. That’s human to want to be loved and have those relationships and all that stuff. But before you enter into a relationship, think about the person you’re getting into a relationship with. Are they sweet, loyal, dependable, honest, trustworthy, and all those other traits you need in the person you’re dating? Do they really care about you? And of course, the most important, are they a Christian? I think the Lecrae quote I put at the beginning sums it up perfectly. If they aren’t “rolling with Christ,” or walking with God, then don’t get involved with them. You may think, “Oh I can change them. I can convert them.” Um, no you can’t. It’s more likely that they’ll change you and lead you away from the Lord, not the other way around. Second Corinthians 6:14 says, “Do not be yoked together with unbelievers; for what partnership have righteous and lawlessness, or what fellowship has light with darkness?” The Bible clearly tells us not to be close friends with, or date, unbelievers. God doesn’t want our minds to be poisoned by the evil of the world, and unbelievers are clearly of the world. God wants us to be set apart, His precious children. This doesn’t mean we should hate or shun unbelievers. We should still accept them and love them and try to lead them to God. But we should not be in a close relationship with them. So before you start dating someone or becoming close friends with them, take a step back first and think about it.

May this make you think,
Abby

The Somber Serenity of the Aftermath

Hey!
So over the last few days I have been in Gettysburg and Antitem and this came to mind as I was walking through the Gettysburg National Cemetery (I know, weird place for a blog idea) and I found myself staring at the Soldier's memorial. There were statues representing four things that I found fascinating. The words were War, Plenty, History, and Peace. And then in the last leg of the journey I found a quote, only seven words, that capture the whole meaning of the Civil War. "Not for themselves, but for their country."
May this make you think,
Jen

-

Everyone talks about the calm before the storm, and the devastation that occurs whilst the storm rages. But there is never any discussion of the odd, somber serenity that is the aftermath of a battle. 

No one ever speaks about the drizzle that follows the flood waters; the calming tears of a sun-streaked cloud barrier. There are never words penned about the whispers that follow an emotionally scarring shouting match; never a literary picture painted about the droplets falling down from a storm-soaked tree. 

The same can be said about the Battle at Gettysburg. A thousand Homeric epics can be spun about that trio of blood-bathed days, and yet not capture it all. But there are no epics to describe the aftermath of those three days; the weeks to come where none could open a window, and each person became a doctor, nurse, or assistant. 

Even now, a hundred and fifty two years have gone by. Several wars have been won, and even more have been fought, but saying "I survived the battle" is not the same as saying "I lived through the aftermath."

The end of a battle, be it literal, metaphorical, mental, or spiritual, is never the end. The end is the eye; the second, "false calm". Anyone can fight a battle; anyone can win or lose; anyone can sit in the doctor's office and receive the diagnosis; anyone can stand up; but who is able to deal with what comes next?

~

"There are no words in the English language to express the sufferings I have witnessed today."-Cornelia Hancock, July the Seventh 

"I saw long rows of bodies of men lying under the eaves of the buildings,  the water pouring upon their bodies in the stream."-Maj. Gen. Carl Shurz, July the Fourth 

"The houses were marked with shot and shell on both sides of the street. Some with ugly gaps in the wall and others with a well-defined hole where the cannonball entered."-Leonard Gardener, on Baltimore Street, July the Fifth

"Ye advocates of war, come here and look, and answer what compensation is there for this carnival of death."-The Philadelphia Public Ledger, July the Fifteenth, 1863

~

To answer the Ledger's command, I ask you in turn a question: What would you give, to preserve the greatest nation on earth, where freedom rings as God reigns, for a hundred and fifty more years to come?

I Cried Too

Hey!
So here is the other one. I hope it is as fun and fulfilling for you to read as it was for me to write. Enjoy!
May this make you think,
Jen

-

Jen turned to me. Her eyes showed the sadness that I felt. "I look at you, and I see me, your majesty. I look at you and I see the darkness that once gripped my heart. I understand, my lord. I get it. I walked down that same path that you did."

I shook my head. "No, not you. You are the purest form of love that I have ever come across-"

"I wasn't always like this. I was angry, I was bitter. I was jealous and crude and all the things that God is not. I still struggle against my weak flesh. I struggle with the anger, the sadness, and the hatred that threaten to consume me. But that's the beauty of Jesus. He made it okay to struggle. He made it okay to stumble. He made it okay. But He never let us fall.

"That day, in the ocean, when I was drowning, I should have been dead in a mere minute, but the raging oceans kept me afloat, instead of causing my death. That was the day I found God. I had fallen off the ship, cast off by the waves, but I wasn't harmed. That was no mere slip up of nature. That was God's divine hand. His love for me gave me another chance; a chance to turn.

"But God has had His hand on me from before the foundation of the world. I look back on my life and see His handiwork through it all. He made me who I am today. And I can't praise Him enough for sacrificing His Son for for the world, for me, and for you."

"How do I know that this "god" of yours won't just dump me after I screw up enough?"

"Because Romans 8:38-39 says 'For I am sure that neither death nor life, nor angels nor rulers, nor things present nor things to come, nor powers, nor height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.'

"If He loves us this much, how can you think that He would give up His chosen?"

I wanted to cry, truly I wanted to cry. We were alone in the council chamber, not even a guard, and my best friend knew me well enough to say, "Go ahead. It's okay. I cried too. Sometimes I still do. You can cry James."

No one had called me by my name since I was a prince, and then it was only Jen, who at that time was only my maidservant. The pure and utter love with which she called me by name, that was what pushed me over the edge and made me break down in tears. 

Jen came up and hugged me. "It's okay. Your eyes have been opened. Praise God."

"Indeed; praise God." 

Jen smiled wiping the tears from my face. "So, do you say yes? Do you accept Jesus as your Lord and Savior?"

I looked up at her, and suddenly found my voice. "Yes. I accept Him."

"Hallelujah!" 

After some teaching from the Word, a few weeks later I was baptized. And after the ceremony, I walked up to Jen, dripping wet in white, and took her face in my hands. 

"Six years ago, right here, I asked you a question and you refused your consent on the grounds of my unbelief in the Lord on high. But now we are both equally yoked and pulling in the same direction, is your love for me the same?"

She smiled a watery smile, as happy tears fell. "It never lessened. If anything, it only deepened. The Lord cultivated it."

My smile grew hopeful. "Then will you consent to give me your hand?" 

"My lord," 

Oh no, I thought, she's going to reject me again. 

"My lord," she began again. "I wholeheartedly give my consent."

And with those few joyous words, I captured her lips with mine. I pulled away to mutter one of the verses I had memorized. " 'You are altogether beautiful, my love; there is no flaw in you.' "

-

You are altogether beautiful, my love; there is no flaw in you. (‭Song of Solomon‬ ‭4‬:‭7‬ ESV)

"You will never win."

Hello!
I'm sorry for the delay; my family and I have been on a road trip across the U.S. for the past few weeks and Internet has either been sparse or slow. So here is the first of two! I hope you all enjoy!
May this make you think,
Jen

-

"You will never win." That taunt on the school ground between elementary school kids, the words spoken by the opposing team, and the most irresistible lie from the devil.

It's what hurts the hardworking the most. It's what gets you down when your at the top. That whisper of doubt  that becomes a crater upon your heart where you do not allow God. 

It's what we say when we just want to give up, when the world is just to much. And the world just encourages us to go with the flow, to sit back, because, no matter how hard we try, we aren't going to make it. 

And then, there is that tiny voice that says, "I know. They're right. You aren't always gonna make it. But that is okay. I don't care if you make it, I love you anyway. And nothing you do is gonna change that."

And then you can smile again, because He knows and He cares, and your mistakes are no longer known. 

Quietly Profound

Hey!
So today I was at a pool party, and accidentally swam into the wall. Let's just say my face hurts. But after I stopped swimming, I started writing. And this was the result. I hope you like it!!
May this masks you think,
Jen

-

"What if it all stopped? What if all the hurt that we experience suddenly never existed? All the challenges, hardships, and heartache vanished into thin air?"

That was the topic of our debate. Some argued for that being taken away, and some were arguing for it staying. I had been chosen to argue for the latter. 

For the first hour and a half, I had stayed silent, grasping my opponent's case and looking for weaknesses. 

They had been slowly picking apart  our case, and I had decided to turn the tables. 

"No one would be forced to feel anything that they didn't want to," the current speaker was saying. "And why should they?"

"Because it forces them to grow up." The murmuring crowd hushed when I finally spoke. 

"Excuse me?" The look at his face gave me the courage to speak the words given to me by the Lord. 

"If one faces no negative emotions, then they have the maturity level of a young child. Challenges help you find your way in the world, and force you to figure out who you are."

"But what if you do not wish to do any of that?"

"Then one had just proven whom they truly are on the inside."

I didn't say any more. I didn't need to. I could see the crowd whispering and the judges deliberating. Suddenly,a bout of nervousness swelled in my heart. 

Had I said too much? Did I say enough? Was it thought provoking or irritating? Was it Christ-like or was it from the flesh? Was it fact or emotion or the perfect blend of both? 

All these doubts swirled around in my head. This was the last debate of the night. Deciding the fate of the match were three judges, each with their own very different personalities. One was kind and loving, another strict and fair, and the third honest and blunt. 

I could tell that my partner wasn't happy with me. He had wanted to use the facts and evidence to prove it, but the simple truths in my minute of speaking outshone his hour and a half to prove our case. 

He had never really liked me. I mean, we got along fine, but he never really liked my 'quiet but powerfully spoken" personality. He was more of an orator than Cicero. 

"We have agreed."

The judges captured all of my attention. "And our agreement is this: due to the nature of this debate, in order to stir up thoughts and feelings for those watching, we have decided to award the win to the-"

I held my breath, and the rest of the crowd's was bated, as we waited for the judges' decision. "The win goes to, Team Central Valley!"

The crowd erupted into cheers and cat calls and excited murmurs. My partner collapsed back into his seat with relief, while I just stood. We had won! 

They quieted when the third judge stood up. "And we have decided who the most profound orator of this contest is."

All of the contestants held their breath. This was a high honor, not normally given unless one performed outstandingly. "Despite being rather quiet, this orator said little, but was profound. Please applaud for-"

I couldn't hear the name because of the drowning applause, but my partner did. "Stand up!" He hissed. 

"What?"

"You got the award! Stand!"

Shakily, I stood and started to speak. "Please, I don't think I got this award purely because I performed well, but that the Lord gave me the truths to say, and I chose to lean on Him and say it. So in truth, this award comes from the Lord, and let the honor and glory go to Him. Thanks be to God."

I sat down, content. And the whole room went silent. 

He Cares/I Know

Hey! I'm trying to update as much as I possibly can, whenever I can instead of making y'all wait until Saturday when I have them finished on Monday. So yeah, I have no clue what I was thinking when I was writing this last night, but I hope you like it!!!
May this make you think,
Jen

-

"Hey, stay with me. Stay with me ma'am." Tears were in his eyes as the woman whom he had known for years lay on the floor, bloody and half-conscious. 

The glass in her eyes would certainly cause her to be blind, and he didn't even want to think of what the head wound could cause. 

"Miss, Miss Almeda, come on, please stay with me now."

She took his hand, shakily and with energy that she couldn't afford to spend. "Scott, I'm alright."

"You have a head wound. We need to get you to the hospital."

"Feel the back of my head Scott. I'm fine. Blind, but alive. The glass is gone."

And he felt the back of her head, sure that she was insane. But as he touched her scalp, there was no glass, no wound at all. 

Startled, he pulled back. "Be as it may," he spoke slowly, and with a dry mouth  "Be as it may, you still need to be checked out by a doctor."

'This isn't possible! That wound should have caused her serious, if not life-threatening injuries, but it's not even there. There is still the blood in her hair and on her clothes, but absolutely no wound. That's not possible.'

And something deep inside him stirred. His...spirit? Soul? Well whatever it was, it started to stir, as if someone had just woken him up from a thirty-year slumber. 

Pulled out of his trance by the ambulance sounds, he helped load her into the vehicle, and rode in the back as it drove off. 

In the hospital waiting room, he pulled out his headphones, and plugged them into his phone. Exhausted, all he wanted was his rap and heavy metal to calm him down. Pressing play, he leaned against the wall. 

Suddenly, he jerked his phone out of pocket, checking to see if Spotify was working. Repeatedly, he pressed play, but no sound came out. He checked the earbuds, the jack, the app, but nothing. Then he tried classical. That didn't play. Neither did pop, nor rock, nor country. 

Frustrated, he about threw his phone across the room. Finally, he just pushed "random" on the app, and sure enough, his favorite childhood band came on. Switchfoot. 

Sighing at the bad memories it brought up, as well as that desire that he could not quench, he resolved to just listen to the song. But instead, he found himself just listening to the words and crying. 

Tears poured down his cheeks as he thought of his friend, Almeda, who was in the hospital, but perfectly alright, aside from permanent blindness. He stared at the fish tank on the other side of the room. 

Life had become so pointless. Was this all there was? The nine-to-five, and two weeks paid vacation, then retirement after thirty or forty years of work? What was the point of all that?

His musings were interrupted by a nurse. "Sir? You can see your friend now. Room B304 is right around the corner."

Nodding his head in thanks, Scott walked into his previous best-friend's hospital room. "I never thought that we'd end up here Scott."

Almeda's voice rang out with the simple joy and love to it that had drawn him in the first place. "Almeda, I'm sorry—".

She laughed—laughed! And he stood there, stupid-looking and dumbfounded. "What is there to apologize for? I'm alive! And healed! The Lord answers prayers in unexpected ways."

Confused, he look at his friend and she continued on. "I was dead, Scott. I was really dead. And then I saw Jesus, telling me everything was alright. I've never felt so complete, than when he was there."

"What can Jesus do? He doesn't save anyone." Scott spat out. "Even if he is real, then he obviously doesn't care."

"Oh Scott, if you could only see. He does care, that's why I'm back again. He didn't heal me for me, but for you."

Shocked to the core, Scott turned around and left. He sped out of the hospital and ran. He didn't stop running until he had reached the spot.

The "Spot" was his mother's special place. She used to wake up early, run here, and then read her devotional. He never quite understood why, until he came and stared up at the pre-dawn sky. 

The stars were beautiful and the moon just about vanished from the cool, fall morning. The trees danced in the wind, and he had never felt more peace than when he was here. 

" 'He healed me for you, Scott' ". He spoke the words aloud and re-assessed the situation. Almeda should be dead, the glass cut so deep. But she lay awake, totally blind,  but alive. And apparently back to her usual self. 

He couldn't stop the tears of joy. And he didn't know why he was crying them. What on earth happened to her? He saw the glass, felt the wound, smelled the blood, but it was gone. With no reminder of what happened, except for her blindness. 

Which would be absolute torture for her, being a reader. She wrote fantastic stories, and read them all several times over before publishing them. 

And she had grown widely popular, even though her books were all heavy in Christianity and/or theology. It would be absolute and total torture for her, blindness. 

Suddenly, his phone beeped. "I know what you are thinking," he read aloud. "and no, it will not be absolute torture. I'm only partially blind. I will need glasses and Braille, but it will work. God has plans for me,  plans to make me prosper, and not to harm me. This is most likely a lesson on humility and total trust. And no, my sister is typing this for me. I can't use a smart phone anymore. :( "

He laughed at the ending. It was so like her. To be serious and lecture, and then at the end make him smile. He looked up at the sunrise and one of his mother's favorite verses came to him. "GOD’s loyal love couldn’t have run out, his merciful love couldn’t have dried up. They’re created new every morning. How great your faithfulness! I’m sticking with GOD (I say it over and over). He’s all I’ve got left."

"Lamentations 3:22-24." His phone beeped again, and this time, he laughed aloud, a booming, boisterous laugh. 

"It's definitely you, Almeda. You still know me like the back of your hand."

"I never stopped, Scott."

And with that, she, or her sister, Amena, stopped texting him. Sighing, for what felt like the hundredth time in the last six hours, he shut off his phone. And he stared at the sun, as it rose in the east and two words came to his mind, and as he hit the button to turn on his phone, he said them. "He cares."

And a text popped up. "I know."

GOD’s loyal love couldn’t have run out, his merciful love couldn’t have dried up. They’re created new every morning. How great your faithfulness! I’m sticking with GOD (I say it over and over). He’s all I’ve got left. (‭Lamentations‬ ‭3‬:‭22-24‬ MSG)