Soap for Jesus

After a word race on the appropriate topic of fear with Matthew Lauser/Luke Alistar this morning, I decided to copy the less "emotionally vulnerable" part into a blog post. ;) "Giants in your life. Pride, ambition, vanity, selfishness, idolatry. So many more obvious that we fight daily, yet there’s something about fear which makes it a very deadly giant to face. Fear is cold, grey oblivion that steals up on us, wrapping dark fingers of soft thick vapour over our eyes so that the glory of God is dimmed and appears, at times, to have vanished. Fear is the giant that turns our vision dark and our gazes fall to the earth to search for the light. Fear is what leads us away from God in the hardest circles of life and sends us cowering into a corner instead of facing the pain with our hands in God’s – with a smile. Fear is the darkness; faith is the golden light. Light conquers darkness. Faith conquers fear. And to receive faith, we ask God. And search after Him. When you seek...

Sitting in front of the lectern the final day, watching Mr. S. stand there and thank us all for being part of OYAN, for being who we were, for wanting to change the world through our writing and being willing to let God use it, the word I'd been looking to describe him struck me. Humble. Most of us would describe Mr. and Mrs. S. as totally awesome, epic, amazing, pirate-ninja people, and lovers of writing - and writers. All of which is totally true. But there's something different about the Schwabauers that has impacted all of our lives in a way that most authors fail to. Sure, one part of it is that they created the most phenomenal writing curriculum out, because, not being content with creating his own people and world, Mr. S. had the passion and creativity and calling to share his gifting with others. Something that most authors wouldn't do, but would just be content to sit back and collect their laurels. Another part of it is that they have the most epic writing Worksho...

For the past four nights (excluding last night) at the Beals' house, I have had extremely weird dreams. The first was regarding an old friend and I - we were touring England, and a steam engine and another guy were involved. Not much more I want to recall. The next two I can't remember, but the fourth was so weird I made a point of trying to remember specific points and write it down. My Dream 09-07-11 There was this train station I was at...a train from America to the UK. It stopped in front of some big glass panels, white framed, with sliding doors. I was in a sort of wide area that lead to it off a corridor. Mom and Dad were there, with my Uncle Pete and I seem to recall something to do with or someone like Bill Jackson. I have a vague recollection of me having some kind of stuffed animal, probably missing Harry Kyle. I was off somewhere important, the atmosphere had a kind of urgency around it and I felt very sure of where I was going and that I wouldn't be back for a l...

Tonight, as you all know, OYANers convene in Olathe, Kansas. I'VE MET SOME!!!!!! *screech* We have, staying at the Garners, Wayfarer - Lindsey, Hakuna Matata - Erynn, Narniahannah - Hannah. Downstairs in the basement, silence and peace surrounds the sleeping forms of Rachel (Nairam), Grace (Grace), Carolyn, Erynn and Hannah. Um. Not in the corner of the next room on Jane's bed where Lindsey and I are curled up with my computer exploring Google Earth. At nearly 2 am. Lindsey moves over because of cramp in her foot and nearly sits on my eyelash curler. Me: Watch it! Lindsey: Oh, it's an eyelash curler. Me: Yes! It goes squeeze, umph and the eyelashes curl up. Lindsey: I know, I have one! Mine's Mary Kay. It's less sophisticated. Me: What's Mary Kay? Lindsey: You don't know who Mary Kay is...? Me:...nooooo? Lindsey: She's like this big make-up and skin care entrepreneur and she's really famous. Did you know Mary Kay even has her own copyrighted colour o...

A few more thoughts popped into my head before I shoot off to bed at what is rapidly approaching 3:00 am. Yes, I know...this is the latest I've been up in the last week and a half. :P I have a habit of holding myself up to other people that I admire or are admired for the right reasons - consciously or subconsciously - and condemning myself for the lack therein of the good characteristics. A criticism, if given in a rough, blunt and ungentle manner, can be worse than a knife to me, and that comparison is not given lightly. One of the habits I have, that has often caused me grief and pain, is my openness of emotion and free expression of thought, etc. It has been condemned, by me, by others, and I've learned to look on it as a bad thing, to be as open as I am with people. I'm not meaning we should cry our every feeling out to the open public (ie, Mrs. Bennet); as little valued as it is, they'd be bored and we'd be hurt - not to mention the lack of privacy or of provi...

I DON'T HATE COMMENTS. :D ~Jane

I want to write tonight, and I’ve no idea what to write about. So many things are whirling about in my head; I feel as if I’m in a dream. I’m looking at the cards next to me and find it almost impossible to believe that today I enter my twentieth year. Nineteen years old. 6935 days spent on this planet – not counting before I was born. 166440 hours spent on earth – and what have I done for Christ? I have only one life. One life to live. I can use it for good or ill. Actually, I can’t. I can use it for ill, or I can surrender it in its entirety – every act, thought, word, deed – into the Hands of God. Only He can use it for good. For His glory. I look back over the past nineteen years. I’m tempted to look at the darkness. The messed up childhood. The living for myself even after I surrendered my life to Christ at 6. The suicidal depression in my early teens. My heart, sworn to Christ and purity, that I take to give to a worldly guy who never wanted it. The websites. The black depression...