Soap for Jesus

It's 10:54 am. Probably be later by the time I finish writing this. Thirty (yes, thirty - I was counting) thirty Peppa Pig episodes later, I carry my finally sleeping (yes, I know, Mr. S, OYANers. Adverbs.) Okay, I'll stop interrupting myself cause it's getting annoying. Thirty Peppa Pig episodes later, I finally carry my sleeping nephew upstairs to his bed and tuck him in, praying desperately under my breath that he will not waken. Today's not been a good day from start to finish...woke up late, accomplished little and what I did accomplish wasn't what I'd particularly aimed to do. People I wanted or hoped to talk to, things either went wrong in the conversation or else, as with tonight because of babysitting, I didn't get online until a few moments before my friend went offline - so we were able to exchange goodbyes. It's also one of those terrible days when I lose words. When I can't really pry deeply into someone's heart or attempt to reach o

Will the Darkness Win? I’m lying here in bed where I’ve been most of today – my only day completely free this week. I’m ill. Stuffy nose, banging headache, short sharp pains all over my body. I don’t think it’s just mere exhaustion. I haven’t eaten a proper meal (admittedly I was snacking earlier today :) ) or had more than one drink today and I don’t really want to. Some...recent family happenings and listening to my brother’s music playing downstairs means that every desire I have to get up is totally extinguished. There seems to be nothing around apart from the darkness. Some people would say a lot of this is my fault. And a lot of what’s going on and my pain and trouble over it is to do with my legalistic views on things. That I should be more open and charitable and forgiving. But every word that I hear, I hear confusion apparent. Although apparently consciences are clear. I don’t know. The night is dark. Literally and spiritually. There’s something inside which is telling me to g

Taken from a post by Google Plusser Hannah R. : I submit that the heart and soul of the Christian faith is not forgiveness, but this coming from Her Majesty is nonetheless heartening. "In this past year my family and I have been inspired by the courage and hope we have seen in so many ways in Britain, in the Commonwealth and around the world. We've seen that it's in hardship that we often find strength from our families; it's in adversity that new friendships are sometimes formed; and it's in a crisis that communities break down barriers and bind together to help one another. Families, friends and communities often find a source of courage rising up from within. Indeed, sadly, it seems that it is tragedy that often draws out the most and the best from the human spirit. When Prince Philip and I visited Australia this year, we saw for ourselves the effects of natural disaster in some of the areas devastated by floods, where in January so many people lost their lives

As a child, my parents raised me minus Father Christmas, believing that a) it detracted from Christ being the centre of the celebration and instead focusing it on a man who gives presents, and b) that it teaches a child to trust in a falsehood and then later, when knowing the truth, realises they've spent their entire early years believing a fairy tale. A lie. How much trust - and faith - does that inspire? Our church therefore taught against Santa (Satan?) Claws - oops, Claus...and every year my twin brother, our friend Rebekah Morris and myself would sing as a trio a song, written off Buddy Davis's (from AiG) song, I Don't Believe in Evolution, by Rebekah's father, Adam, called, I Don't Believe in Father Christmas. Following this, my Mom would read out this to the assembled parents. Believe you me, my brother and I found the end part HIGHLY amusing. So - I give you an engineer's perspective on our dear Father Christmas...or rather, Father of the other side

Was debating posting the whole thing on here, but I think it's best people read the post for themselves. Yes, it's aimed at fathers, but I think women can also take this into consideration - both in raising sons and in their closer relationships with their daughters. Taken from "Raising Godly Children"; an excellent site which covers way more than raising children. :) Raising Godly Children: Duty of Fathers : If you fail, father, to teach your son to fear God, the devil will teach him to hate God. If you fail to teach your son to guard his min...

I'm presumin' we're going to be eating these for Christmas dinner. :D Mom and I have looked after these potatoes since Uncle Peter planted them for Mom. Mom's becoming quite a gardening person again now. :D Mom's done the majority of the caring. I've watered them a couple of times, done the hoeing (to my knowledge) and for the past six weeks have been trying to find time (in daylight) to dig them up. Reasons being, I work 9-5, Monday to Friday. It's dark when I leave home at 0730 and dark when I return at 1820. Saturdays I've been out with cadets or doing something else. And Sundays is church or something else. Today, I got a half day's paid holiday from work. :D So from 3 (when I got home) til 4:30, I dug up two of the three rows of potatoes. :D This is me swinging the hoe into the dirt. I swung it so hard a couple of times that sparks flew off the rocks...yeah, it surprised me, too! :D The rocks and the potatoes looked so alike at times I got confu

One of my favourite things to do is to post a new post. And then, to share it. On Facebook, on Twitter, and on various chats. Then I sit and watch for a couple of minutes with my finger on the refresh button. I love Feedjit. :D It's so fun to watch the visitors start coming!! "New Bern, North Carolina" "Woodbridge, Virginia" "Belfast, Northern Ireland" "Moscow, Russia" Within minutes of posting. O.o My mother saw her grandfather once before his death. George Edward C was born in c. 1889. What would he have thought, I often wonder, if he could see his great granddaughter "slamming up blog posts", "Facebooking and tweeting", "emailing", "using a laptop", "typing" on something that wasn't a typewriter, talking about "gigabytes"...and what could a "website" possibly be? FLYING in a "jumbo jet" to a country that took months to sail to...flying's just been inven

There's many times that people ask me, "Don't you wish you could live your life over?" "Don't you wish your life was easier?" "Wouldn't you have rather had a normal life?" I think about it a lot. In fact, as days pass and pain increases and it becomes so intensely hard to find new things to praise Him for, to trust Him and lean on Him and stop leaning on my own strength, to collapse into His arms and through faith alone trust Him to carry me through and not stoop to my own pain-coping methods...to not doubt and despair and turn back into the darkness... I even sometimes start to say those things myself. Some people even doubt that I have a capacity for feeling pain. Some people have asked me, even after seeing me working with tears streaming down my face, how it is that I am so happy all the time. I know people think I'm a happy-go-lucky fly-me-by butterfly who dances through life on a whim. I know people can think me intensely childish

Darkness filled the street even as she gazed, crawling on and over everything in its path. It struck her, eliminating her shadow, filling her with chilled air. Goosebumps rose on her skin, and she gasped, feeling as though evil pervaded the night. Why was it this night felt so different to any other? She raised her gaze to the castle window once more...and the light flickered, and died. Had it died? Or had another, more evil hand dealt a blow to the King? She scrambled to her feet and ran towards the castle. Fleet of foot, swift as an arrow shot from a bow, but not hasty enough to escape six coal horses that galloped after her, hidden by the wings of the night. They surrounded her, visors unclosed, dark armour glistening by the light of a lantern that one held above his head. “One step too far, young Critak,” a creaky voice said. She looked up, eyes black and unreadable, standing out in her white face. “Not a moment too soon, Ahkrid” she answered. His horse sank on its knees with a str

Here's a quote from my friend Scott Rowley's Facebook page, regarding my home town. How very true! *chuckle*: "Loves the way Walsall can promote itself, lol. Walsall The filthy streets, the unwashed masses, the charming local accent that makes us sound as though we were born retarded and have been drinking turpentine every day since then… These are the best aspects of Walsall. There’s a new art gallery, grey and shaped like a box. Clearly a great deal of thought went into making it look as appealing from the outside as it is enjoyable inside. And a new bus station. Cost a small fortune to build, looks absolutely revolting, has slowed down traffic for miles around because the entrance is tiny and buses have to queue past the exit to get into the entrance — so a traffic jam can last theoretically until the end of time. Best of all, they didn’t realise until after it was built that it wasn’t big enough for all the buses. The crowning glory of Walsall, though, is its people. T

A smile can change the world. At the very least, a person's day. When I dress to please Sian, guys watch and I smile and it's flirting all the way. When I dress to please the Lord Jesus Christ and Jane, then I smile and a guy is watching my face and smiles back - and it's completely innocent and pure. There's glory in that. When I smile dressed for Sian, girls and women aren't happy smiling back. And they...act different. When I smile dressed for Jesus, they smile back and it's lifting their faces and a smile into their eyes. I was watching with active interest the things around me earlier, and suddenly started laughing... God is so amazing! A year ago, I was so wrapped up in my pain I wasn't noticing anything, just breathing from day to day. All I can remember is darkness and facts...and the first time I noticed the glory of autumn leaves that year. When He started to pull me out of it and Jay and C'rissie were telling me to focus on other things and st

Literally. These two quote are from yesterday. (Began 22-10-11 or 10-22-11) I put my little orange Testament from Texas on my desk yesterday and walked away to get some water. Ryan, my coworker, said as I went by: "Is that a Bible on your desk?" Me: "Yes, it's a Testament. Are you a Christian?" *hopefully* Ryan: "No, I like to call myself an atheist. But it's good to see some people have faith." -- I went to the water fountain and stepped aside to let coworker Becca go first. She responded by wriggling with helpless frustration and said, "Ohhhhh! I really don't like you!" Another coworker waiting laughed and said, "Well that's nice first thing in the morning!" Becca answered, "It's because she's so NICE! Always opening doors for people, etc." I walked away and grinned. Maybe, maybe, MAYBE, God is shining through!! :D -- Kushan is a Hindu. He worked next to me for a day or so. I was having a good day on

Posted blogs or video blogs? Both have something going for them. For video blogs, you see a person. You hear their voice, watch their mannerisms, observe their surroundings, recognise emotion, faint at accents, recall memories. It puts pressure on for instant thought, creative speech and expressive body language. In short, it contains a lot more of the physical person in a small confined space of time and image. Written blogs, however, can be long - as long as you like. They require extensive and interesting patterns of thought, creative writing and usage of words to carry the reader through to the end. Painting pictures with words and imagery is completely necessary to carry an idea or a thought that you wish to share. You use eyes and ears and heart to read into what a person is saying through their words. You use fingers to type it out. People feel much freer to express themselves when they aren't visually exposed. In short, writing blogs is supported by the mastery of conversan

They sold them every year. People in green and brown clothes and people in blue, smiling, with a box around their necks or in their arms, full of small red paper flowers. Other people came up and put some money in the buckets they had on their arms, and walked away with a little red flower that they'd put on. 'Course, not everyone did it. My family was something Daddy called "pacifist", and he hated the people in green and blue. Every time he saw one of them, he'd call us together and herd us past them as fast as he could. Still, that didn't stop my sister and I looking. In the end, Marissa stopped looking. She said that Daddy was right, and it didn't really matter. After all, it was just a paper flower that people wore a few days and then forgot about. It didn't seem to matter that much to them, so why would it to us? I didn't care about what everybody else did. It was the people in green and blue that I watched. And they were there, year after ye

11-11-11, whether British or American. Armistice Day. Veteran's Day. Remembrance Day. On the eleventh hour of the eleventh day, on the eleventh month, the Armistice was signed in 1918, "officially" bringing an end to the First World War. Since then, at 1100 hours on November 11th, two-three minutes of silence are held to remember the fallen who died that we might live today, and those currently serving and dying in foreign countries - whether we agree with the wars or not. The past three Saturdays I've been involved in selling poppies to the general public. The Poppy Appeal is part of a nationwide group that makes and sells poppies to the public, calling them to remember - and never forget. Across Britain, perfect strangers are united with one bond - a splash of red on their lapels or tops, calling them to remembrance. Tough biker jackets, upper class dainty scarves, a grubby child's little jacket; all share one common feature - the poppy. There's some coats t

I wasn't sure I'd put my bus pass in my bag this morning. I'd had to go back into work already to check with my "big brother" Mat whether he'd got the photo I was meant to give him, and then stopped to chat briefly with Chris (who I'll tell you about in the next couple of posts). So I was tearing across the road helter-skelter with my eye on the X51 (the bus I catch from work) when it pulled out of the bus stop. And it was raining. Oh well, more time to sing... The 51 pulls in. It takes about 20 minutes longer than the X51 to get into my town. Oh well...then I can't find my bus pass. Lord, You know I need to get home early because of cadets! I look up at the driver and shake my head, then sigh in exasperation as I walk over to the seats and scrabble through my handbag, trying to find my new bus pass - instead of the old one I pulled out twice. I pull it out...just as the next X51, not due for 13 minutes, pulls in. (13 minutes is a lot of difference in

I'm nineteen years old with a fairly unusual past. I have two names and two personalities (no, I'm not schizo). I'm British (half Welsh, 3/8 English and 1/8 Irish with a dash of Scots), redheaded and passionately love my country to being willing to die for her. I love America and Americans dearly to wanting emigrate there. America is "the Promised Land" in spite of its failures, as Britain is "the Land of Hope and Glory" to Americans. I'm independent and very dependent. I'm silent and talkative. I love CCM rock and choral orchestral pieces. I'm crazy about the Royal Air Force, a member/cadet of the Air Training Corps and planning to join later as an officer, but I want to marry and have loads of kids. (As an ex-feminist to a degree, God's done really well on that one!!) I adore military drill, both narrowly watching it done, learning it in depth and performing it with precision. My soul overflows into music and song, both listening to, si

Me: The next time they offer for me to visit, can I? Mom: Why on earth are you asking me? You tell me what you're doing nowadays. Me: That's only, like, with work and cadets. I ask about the rest of it, cause I know how you flip out - and don't ask me for an example, cause I can't think of any. I just know you do. Mom: Like what? Me: I don't know. :P Mom: You're nineteen, you've been to America and Ireland. What do I fret about now? Me: Well, you won't let me come home at night on the bus. :D Mom: That's something else. Me: *dies laughing*

A friend and I were chatting this morning about the pink blouse I was wearing. Friend: "Jay would flip if he saw you in that top!" (Yes, I do talk about you guys to offline people :P) Me: *winces* "Yeah..." And my thoughts sail back to the time I spent with the Lauser family and how...simple and innocent and safe it felt. And how something inside looked at their contentedness and ease in their style of clothing, and how I envied it. And also, how their clothing made them stand out as a simple, happy and obvious witness for Christ. Then ensues the conversation about how it wasn't about the amount of skin you showed, but the attitude of the heart, and that we can't really help the clothing that's issued us by today's society... Yeah, that's all right, but there's something more... I by no means dress immodestly, but some of my clothes could call for a higher standard - although I also by no means ever intend to go burqa crazy. But the girl who

Okay, I'm going to settle a little problem here, right here and right now. This is to prevent any further talking behind my back. I am busy. Very, very busy. In fact, most nights I'm so busy I'm actually falling asleep online. The other night, I even fell asleep in front of my mother online. Woke up until she went to bed, then fell asleep again until about 2am, when I finally gave up in despair and crawled off to bed. Most days, I get up somewhere around 6:30am and don't stop until 10:30pm. The times that I don't, I'm frantically rushing about online trying to sort out things like emails, and blog posts, and the S4C website. (The only thing I've been wasting time on is watching Dr. Who, and yes, I intersperse that with chatting.) I'm falling asleep a LOT online. I am very tired and constantly on the run. It's not that I don't want to talk. It's not that I'm ignoring you and leaving you in the past. It's that I'm very busy, and I&#

PRAISE HIM! 1 - Surveys given. 2 - Things to laugh at. 3 - Friendly colleagues. 4 - A good boss who likes to debate. 5 - Chances to witness - rather frighteningly - to my Muslim colleagues. 6 - Names to chuckle over! (John Milton, Pixy Greathead, Tofuzzel Miah!) 7 - A pork pie per day! 8 - Money coming in! 9 - Being able to sit outside, eat lunch, feel the presence of God and listen to my MP3 and sing praises. 10 - A view where I can look out the window over Birmingham and watch the planes in the sky... 11 - Writing out Scriptures and putting them in my keyboard. 12 - The promises of God to keep me faithful and serving while I'm waiting. 13 - Being able to spend more time with my sister and see my niece every day. 14 - Break times to read the Bible in. 15 - Bus travelling! Over an hour to listen to music and read the Bible while standing up travelling home. 16 - Learning that buses make you people friendly! 17 - Morning prayer and praise walks from home to my sister's. 18 - The

Okay, I'm going crazy here. :D From my impulsive decision to launch S4C tonight, this afternoon, and sending a scrambled email around to the other team members, to throwing together hastily the advertising suggested by my website creator and manager Kyle Johnston , I've been really nervous all day. For advertising, I've blogged, tweeted, FBed, Buzzed, chat statused and posted on the Rebelution Attic thread and on OYAN's RD thread. Four registrants have joined the forum - a warm welcome to Stephy, Lady_Adrienne, Haitch and Butterfly! God moves in mysterious ways - Attic Moderator (also S4C editor and my big sister) Carissa Mann visited the Attic Greenhouse Thread and she hadn't in ages...found my topic, told me where to edit it and then posted it live. It's starting a startlingly lively discussion on OYAN, too! It's also being reshared out across Buzz, Facebook and Twitter. I'm so thrilled! God is moving and blessing it! Praise the Lord! I'd like to

Hello! I've not been an official Rebelutionary that long, but some of you know me... Recently, the Lord laid on my heart that while there are many websites and books out there preparing girls for marriage, there aren't that many dealing with the single years. Not long ago, I saw a post on Facebook where a girl had a dream of helping children and becoming a missionary, but of course, she "couldn't do that until God gave her a husband." So she was going to sit around and do nothing towards what she believed God had called her, because she didn't think she could do it without a husband. I believe in the goals of serving the family at home before marriage, for young women, but a lot of young women seem to think they can't use passions for God before they marry. I think we can. I've been praying for someone to start a website for young single women, to encourage them in God, to support and encourage regular Bible reading and prayer, to discuss Scriptural pr

Sooooo. I'm not online very much any more, and I'm encouraging people to email me or even - yes, I'm opening the doorway! - WRITE to me - rather than chat me, so I can clear my emails, tweets and Facebook notifications, work on the S4C website and blog in the relatively short time I have online now, apart from weekends. Of course, if you need to chat me, I'm around mostly on Saturdays and Sundays. I now have a 9-4:45 job on Mondays - Fridays as a market research telephone interviewer. You know, those horribly annoying people that ring your phone and ask you to spend some time on an interview. I always turned them down, politely and pityingly. After all, I could imagine how hard it was for them. Now, I KNOW how hard it is for them. Their job - my job - hangs on getting those surveys. So remember that, next time you turn them down. :P I should be getting 6-9 surveys a day, depending on the quota set, and at the minute, I'm roughly getting 3-4. If you don't make th

There's an app on Facebook called 21 Questions. Recently, I found out someone had answered a question about me. In fact, LOADS of people have! Here are all the fascinating things I discover that people know about me, that I mostly didn't. Wow! Q: Do you think that Siân Garner-Jones is a good driver? A: No. Comment: Minor explosion inside. Although I'm sure that right now, they're pretty accurate. :P Q: Do you think that Siân Garner-Jones has smelly feet? A: No. Comment: Angelic smile beaming forth. I love thee, nice personage. XD Q: Do you think that Siân Garner-Jones is tone deaf? A: No. Comment: Inner radiant glow beams forth upon that person. You're wonderful. YOU LIKE MY SINGING! - maybe. Unless that response was off my siblings, who KNOW I'm not tone deaf and DON'T like my singing! XD Q: Do you think that Siân Garner-Jones spends more than an hour on facebook everyday? A: Yes. Comment: Someone knows me too well. V_V Q: Do you think that Siân Garner-Jone

One of my most favourite books of all time has to be Elisabeth Elliot's Passion and Purity. Elisabeth Howard Elliot Leitch Gren has to be one of the most inspirational and amazing women out - especially in the guidance area of relationships. The story of her husband, Jim Elliot, is legendary. However, less well known is the love story of Jim and Elisabeth. Embodied in the book Passion and Purity, it contains pain, hope, peace, struggles, tears, timeless God-given love and prayer. It talks about the concepts of releasing back to God, waiting on God, emotional battleground - in fact, pretty much every area that one could struggle with in relationships. This blog post is for Calleigh, Kiehl, Carissa, Rebekah, Anjelica, Kay and Holly, and Miguel, Nick, Matt, Jay and Miles from Passion and Purity. I’m including some of you not because you necessarily have relationship problems, but because you may find some of it a blessing in your own personal lives right now. Chapter 12: Holding Patte