Not a typical post...

I don't usually do this, nor do I plan on making this a regular habit, but I am asking you all to pray for me and my family right now. It seems like everything is going wrong. The plumbing in our house probably needs redone, Mom's mini-van needs repairs, Dad is having problems with asthma, and just a lot of things. It's a bit stressful and discouraging, and we all would just REALLY appreciate the prayers!

Thanks!
-Frank

Late One Night

As I sit here at some unnatural hour of the morning, munching on a piece of lembas (Yes, I know how to make it. No, one small bite does not fill the stomach of a full grown man.) I decided to take a little bit of a different turn with this blog post. I decided to post, what is called in Fanfic jargon, a one shot (more or less a short story that may or not may not have an actual plot).

You'll notice that the naming isn't exactly creative... and I'll just tell you right now it's not entirely accurate... the yard is a blend between my yard, my grandma's, and my own little fictitious world. Alright, with out further ado...

Blankly she stared at the empty page before her, pen in hand. She made one small stroke, scratched it out, and made a curve. She did not like that either, so she scribbled over it. With a grunt of frustration she scrawled out the words, “NO INSPIRATION!” diagonally across the entire page, crumpled it up, and chucked it as hard as she could at the nearest wall, where it bounced off and hit the ground with a crinkle.

Frank stood up from her desk and stood by the sliding glass door that separated her study from the outdoors that she loved so well. “I wish I could go out there,” she muttered to herself. “But I can’t until I at least get a start on this stupid story!” she added loudly.

She walked past the desk she was beginning to hate, and flopped herself down on the cranberry chaise lounge that occupied the area next to her bookshelf. While gazing at the ceiling, she reached over and grabbed her scribble book off of her shelf. Many stories had been born out of random words scrawled out in frustration in that book, and she was hoping that would be the case with this story as well. With the mechanical pencil that she left clipped in it, she began to write out, “frustrated, green, golden sun, forest, water, naiad, peasants … I got nothing!!!” She beheld her work and tried to find the plot line that eluded her. The inspiration she sought was not to be found. She tossed the notebook back onto the shelf.

“Lord, whatever happened to ‘Seek and ye shall find’? I’m seeking and finding not!”

She began to muse over the word “seek” while waving her hands around as if she were conducting music.

“Seek. Seek. Hmm…” she said to herself as she stood up. “Seek the gate.” She blurted out, as if this phrase bore some significance. Her mind was now in a day dream. She wandered out the glass door and into the yard. She lived on a substantial amount of property, and let most of it be wild. That which was tended, however, was fenced in, and a gate led to the wilder part. Her mind was now fixed on that little wooden gate, and she had every intention of going out of it. Barefooted she wandered out into the yard. With each step she took, things changed. Her red tank top and denim shorts disappeared, being replaced with a long gown of leaf green silk with silver embroidery and a belt of silver lace. Her pony tale was taken out and a circlet of silver and diamonds sat upon her brow.

Out of the gate she went, leaving it open behind her. She danced her way into the trees to music from a place unseen. She sang a song that she had written, and once her song was done, she gracefully sat herself down upon withered leaves with her back against a tree. She listened for a while to the breeze, and heard the birds singing. A happy sigh she gave as she closed her eyes and leaned her head back.

She had officially left Michigan and entered her own world, a world with no name. There were very few names in that world, and few things to be named to match. It was her imaginary world, the one she had frequented and lived in all through her childhood, teen years, and college. She had never completed it, despite several attempts, and left it as it was, partially finished. There were some green glades, at least one forest, and a castle somewhere, but what exactly was there no one knew. Which was the problem.

She closed her eyes and let her head fall back onto the tree. “One of these days,” she thought to herself, “One of these days I’ll...” but she didn’t finish her thought because she heard her mother ringing the bell for dinner.

So, that's that. Not my best work... which is one reason it's here... I'm willing to part with it... so to speak. Well, now that I've sufficiently shaken up my unexistant routine, I'm off!

-Frank

Let it Snow!

Yesterday morning for my devotions, I decided to read about snow. Inspired by the massive amounts of it falling this morning, I went to oneplace.com and did a search for "snow." It was very interesting what I found. Almost half if not more of the references to snow were using snow as an adjective (right?) to describe something. The first several verses were saying leprous people were white as snow, then of course there were a fair number of verses saying something to the effect of, "wash me and I shall be whiter than snow."

But those weren't what was I looking for. I was looking for verses on the fluffy, cold, white stuff. I found them! Job, Psalms, and Proverbs mostly. It was quite interesting too! Such a simple and common thing (at least in northern Wisconsin) was used and referred to in a wide variety of ways; even in reference to the cold stuff.

But of course, it would be slightly ridiculous to meditate solely on the white and fluffy lest I was going to write a poem about it. So I thought about what the verses were saying and in context. It was varied food for thought to say the least. I ended up reading Isaiah 55:10-11. In that passage Isaiah uses rain and snow as a metaphor for God's word and... God said it best so... "For as the rain cometh down, and the snow from heaven, and returneth not thither, but watereth the earth, and maketh it bring forth and bud, that it may give seed to the sower, and bread to the eater: So shall my word be that goeth forth out of my mouth: it shall not return unto me void, but it shall accomplish that which I please, and it shall prosper in the thing whereto I sent it."

Other passages I looked at were... Job 38:12-23 and there I was reminded that I know nothing about something so simple and common as snow. Another was Proverbs 26:1. That one triggered thoughts about the foolishness of preaching and all that. I'm still mulling that one over. Another verse I looked at, which was actually the one I wanted to find in the first place, was Proverbs 25:13- "As the cold of snow in the time of harvest, so is a faithful messenger to them that send him: for he refresheth the soul of his masters."

So, I thought on snow... Fresh Snow.

-Frank :o)