Soap for Jesus

In modern society, there are many new phases and phrases of "expressing ourselves". There are also many new open forms of behaviour - not merely tolerated, nor even accepted, but promoted and taught by subtlety, blatantly and through constant, thorough inculcation. Most of these began in the last century. From 1,900 years of fairly slow changing, there has been a sudden rush of things generally considered "unacceptable" being promoted in the highest degree. Most of these are not really "human rights-centred", as much as being "me-centred". Not as much about correcting incorrect morality - such as the freeing of slaves - as about ensuring the comfort of individuals, which has now enforced the point of freedom of speech so harshly that most of the liberties it grants are curtailed. For example, you are allowed, encouraged and firmly supported to announce that you are gay/homosexual. Even if I like you and am your friend, I am not allowed to ...

They say that there is a silver lining to every cloud. An added unique tint to every note of a song of pain. And sooner or later, in every darkness, the shadow reduces just enough to see a faint outline, or a glimmer. God. Is. Totally. Amazing. In case you didn't catch that before. GOD IS SO AMAZING!! This is a testimony blog post, so if you don't likey, you has permission to click the big red X. :D I'm typing this freshly awake from my lengthy sleep, which was induced by five hours of mowing and strimming the gardens yesterday (which look amazing, according to Mom! :D) moving heavy pots around and hauling three fence panels upright (while the neighbour man watched me. Nice guy.) It's kinda funny, cause the last time I cut the grass (Uncle Peter has done it since then, except no one did it in the winter months) was the night before I flew out to Kansas. I looked up at the planes flying over in the twilight and the stars beginning to twinkle, thinking, tomorr...

Tweet earlier: I stink of alcohol. And blood. Not mine. Will explain later. Please pray for my new friend Noel. Thanks. :) Walking home from the X51, I was heading to the 404 when I approached these three dark-skinned kids (you know the type, baseball caps, etc) around this older white man on the floor. At first I thought they were beating him up, but one was offering his hand and another attempting to help him stand, which didn't quite make sense. On asking what was going on, they said that they'd seen him collapse and were just trying to help him back up again. Two community support officers (kinda like police backup but without much power) came up to us then, and they told me (I'm going to tell it you all in one bunch so you don't have to try and piece it together like I did) basically, that he'd been drinking (Noel claims he hasn't drunk all day, he's just on a hangover) and that he'd walked into a window earlier uptown, and that he'd been...

A thousand novels could be written and still not all could be explained of the complex, intricate creation of love… Where care meets protection there must be a balance. Love never hurts in the name of care. Love has self-control. Love stays through hurt. Love breathes. Love is gentle. Like a friend with patience that abounds, love listens. Love does not condemn. Love looks at others before itself. Never does love find blame in others to clear its name. Love is merciful, pure, kind, and forgiving. Love remembers the past, but does not let it damage the future. Where love stands, all can be overcome. Love should be calming. Like a blanket that keeps you warm and a roof that stops the rain. A sword for protection though not wielded against you. Love is safe and sound; calm and peace. A refuge from the storm of life. Love is not prejudice. Love is free from seeing self and viewing image or one’s own safety. Love sees what is and not what is wanted. Love does not change over t...

That time we were all out going around that castle, and we both were trying to photograph each other sneakily, shoving the cameras into each other's faces, laughing. Driving along the road; when it was just us two, you used to let me wind down the window (cause I'd sit in the front of the car) and lean out of the window. I loved that, the breeze and the force taking my breath away. We used to listen to our favourite music that no one else liked - military bands and choral/orchestral pieces. We sang - Here Is Love, We'll Keep a Welcome in the Hillside. You taught me the Welsh National Anthem. You'd surprise me, with sausage rolls, creme eggs, my favourite chocolate bars. One of my favourite things to do with you was for us to come home and we'd have fish and chips and watch a film. When Mommy wasn't there it was a Western. We shared the same sense of humour. Laurel and Hardy, Monty Python. No one shares that with me now. You used to come outside quietly, just to ...

One of the worst things for cutters, in my experience/dealings, is when withdrawing...even the mildest cutter has an almost overpowering urge to cut for little to no reason. It is an addiction, it is a dreadful one, and I beg anyone out there considering trying it - don't. Even worse than the self harm which leaves permanent damage, if not physically, then emotionally, is the powerful urge after leaving it to continue punishing oneself for an angry mood, a sour temper, a bad day - in short, anything you feel is your fault and you want to punish yourself for. The effort to fight off that urge is very difficult, and can lead to devising other ways of self harm. The problem is, when you're doing it, you feel like you're punishing the person who deserves it. You can even get into a self-satisfied victim mode; I've punished me, I'm content. Starting it is dangerous. You think you're a coward if you don't, and that you're a coward if you do. As with drugs, you...

A Excerpt: He looked, searching, into her deep blue eyes and watched his own reflection change, distort, twist itself into a memory whirling in the inky depths. She was tiny, small, alone...yet apparently no younger than as he knew she was now. Her figure was small and slight, her hair flipped over her shoulder in the untidy perfect flow he loved so well. She stood, leaning her weight on her elbow, her nose pressing against the glass, forming a round vapour of condensation on the clear glass, her lips leaving a small imprint against it. No one else was in the room, but he could hear murmurs from the next. A quiet, choked noise caught his attention, and he looked to see tears running in shiny floods down her cheeks. One word only escaped her lips, and that word she repeated over and over. Somehow, as he looked down into her eyes, he could see the reflection of the little girl who still stood at the window, hurting inside. Their expression, through the pretense of valiant bravery and the...

Always turns out that whichever Tenth Avenue North song I like least, I end up liking most. "Crazy, ma-a-an!" :P I called you up, you were in bed, could barely make out the words that you said But you wanted to see me instead, so I got dressed So I stepped out into the snow, and walked for a mile or so Felt the rush of blood come from the cold, within my chest Well, you finally came to the door, and we talked for an hour or more Until I asked if you would stay up until four, and you said that's fine But you said "theres something I have to say, and I can just because I am so afraid" And so I held you as you started to shake, that night Oh, my dear, I'll wait for you Grace tonight will pull us through Until the tears have left your eyes Until the fear can sleep at night Until the demons that you're scared of Disappear inside Until the scale begins to crack And this weight falls from your back Oh, my dear, I'll keep you in my arms tonight You slowly li...