Im back

I am really sorry I ahve not been on in foreevr. Sorry. :(

But anyways some updates:


I had exam weeks which was fun...not really but kinda.
I read the best Christian book ever, after the Bible of course.
I will be posting something in the future, probably distant since im busy with school and all, on justice, love and merccy.

I am Back after a long Depearture.

I spelled that word wrong I know. I am sorry. So, what has been up with me?

Welll, despite the very obvious thing called Christmas I have been reading/watching/listening to what I got for Christmas. Those things, I am so materialistic which is wrong, were:

Hipster Christianity
Bonhoeffer bio
Ghostwriter by Thrasher
Three Bibles
Fireflighst new CD
Skellig: The Owl Man
The HWite Ribbon
2001: A Space Odyessey
The 1st season of FRINGE.

I have a new blog...

i will post on this one sstill:

my film review blog:

http://jonas6.wordpress.com

Questions I am asking

1. was the earth created recently or long-ago?
2. what does gOd want from me?

Thing God Has Taught Me

He has taught me that a relationship with Him is more important than any amount of head knowledge. He has taught me that my preheld notions are not always right. He has tuaght me to look fairly at other opinion even wrong ones in ling of Scripture. HE has taught em neww and amrvelosu things about doctrine sin Scripture.What has he taught you?

Honestly

Honestly I am sick of the Tea Party, sick i tell you.
Honestly, I don't think Christians have it all right soemittmes. Our preconceievd notions are sometimes wrong compared to Scripture.
And honestly, God wants you.

A Poem a Felt Like Psoting Randomly

Save me form myself
I belong to You
Rid me of my trash I have no way
Be my All in All
And save me now.
Be my true Beloved and I
Will not sway
Give me my life so i can lose it for
You.
Let me be a Light in this daark
messed up world. Show me what your
will is for My Life.
Give Me a hope
in which none can fight.
Be my escape from this place
Save me fromyself and make me safe.
I wanna be yours so that you will be mine.
I know you want me to sacrifice my life.
Give me Your heart for the lost
So i may guide them home.
Save me...
Be my escape...

Having not posted I will.

Thoughts:

1. Predestination versus free will
2. I Christs death limted or for all?

More is what

What is more
IS more what
More is what
What we make life is
Freedom from the dead souls
More is what we need
Less is what we need
Goodness is good
Good is goodness
Free me- By bondage

News about coming things/....

1. i am forming a statment of my beliefs at this moment. using scripture an the creeds.

2. shtuff.

Great news.

For me at least. Tim Barret od Disciple is only on hiatus.

Poem by a person in my online school

This poem really hit home with me. 1. because i am a former cutter. and 2. it sumarises all hope in Chirst.


Deeper Than Her Scars
Her story is covered
by long sleeves and bracelets
But sometimes people see it
Just in pieces and in bits
She’s tried so hard to hide
but sometimes they catch a glimpse
Of the history she’s written on her wrists

She’s carved it into her arms
Cause she could never speak in words
The pain expressed by scars
Why has nobody heard?
Why is it so hard to stay,
And so easy to run away from her?

Her torment never truly fades away
Every night she’s left here trying to pray
Trying to find herself…
But ending up with nothing to say
What should she do with what is left?
Do she even have anything left?

Jesus take her, hold her, hear her.
Draw her to the love you offer
show her when her eyes can’t see
that you have never left her
Let her press her hands into your wounds
and remember you bear what should be hers

She can’t move, she can’t feel
Nothing She’s faced even seems real…
But the numbness doesn’t own her
She’s not controlled by a knife
And even when she wants to give up on life
Jesus, you’ve already been there…

So when she’s desperate
When she’s struggling to breathe
But still pastes on a smile for the world
And still pretends to believe
When she struggles to express
What she’s suppressed for so long
Whisper in her darkness

Remind her gently saying
“I am stronger than your pain,
Deeper than your scars
Higher than your shame
Bigger than your guilt
Forgiving of your past
And loving you every day
just because I choose to.”

Jesus never let her forget
that your wounds are enough
and your scars run deeper than hers ever could…

Poem by a person in my online school

This poem really hit home with me. 1. because i am a former cutter. and 2. it sumarises all hope in Chirst.


Deeper Than Her Scars
Her story is covered
by long sleeves and bracelets
But sometimes people see it
Just in pieces and in bits
She’s tried so hard to hide
but sometimes they catch a glimpse
Of the history she’s written on her wrists

She’s carved it into her arms
Cause she could never speak in words
The pain expressed by scars
Why has nobody heard?
Why is it so hard to stay,
And so easy to run away from her?

Her torment never truly fades away
Every night she’s left here trying to pray
Trying to find herself…
But ending up with nothing to say
What should she do with what is left?
Do she even have anything left?

Jesus take her, hold her, hear her.
Draw her to the love you offer
show her when her eyes can’t see
that you have never left her
Let her press her hands into your wounds
and remember you bear what should be hers

She can’t move, she can’t feel
Nothing She’s faced even seems real…
But the numbness doesn’t own her
She’s not controlled by a knife
And even when she wants to give up on life
Jesus, you’ve already been there…

So when she’s desperate
When she’s struggling to breathe
But still pastes on a smile for the world
And still pretends to believe
When she struggles to express
What she’s suppressed for so long
Whisper in her darkness

Remind her gently saying
“I am stronger than your pain,
Deeper than your scars
Higher than your shame
Bigger than your guilt
Forgiving of your past
And loving you every day
just because I choose to.”

Jesus never let her forget
that your wounds are enough
and your scars run deeper than hers ever could…

JOIN this site. And the forum.

http://www.relevantmagazine.com/forum/index.php


Great site.


Btw, some selfless promotion:


Read Hallie's blogs. Very well written and interesting. BUt, warning, here latsest post she admits is sappy. I concur. BUt read it anyway.


Thas all.

Happy Day

Well, life is good.

Well, things I'm thinkin bout.

Women being providers in the chgurch.

explanation of the: well, movies. post.

The White Ribbon- GErman film. Rated R for disturbing violent and sexual content. Very disturbing but in such a great way. Warniog: IF you are offended by implied brutal violence or sexual content, such as incest, dont watch. But otherwise watch it.


Hercules Unchained- campy old fashioned cult classic about hercules.

Metropolis- Classic sc-fi movie from the twenties. Very highly recomend.

Well, movies.

What I have seen recently:

THe Whit Ribbon( best movie ever)
HErcules UNchained
MEtropilis

It is all a Dream

Here is a story I wrote for my writing class this year. Whaddya think??





ALL A BAD DREAM


She was. Is. And will be for ever and ever and ever. Amen. But for now she is just rigid.
She is rigid. Standing still takes skill, but standing rigid is even harder. Her bed sags slightly under her weight, small though it may be. And her body occasionally twitches, against her will. But she is still trying. And that is all that matters.
Her name, though common and unimportant is important to her. Janna. Janna Miriam Slavik. But she goes by Janna, just Janna.
“ Janna!” That is her mother, shouting loudly to her from the bottom of the stairs.
“ Janna!”
Janna grimaces. “ What!” she snaps. Thankfully her mother does not catch the tone, the door being a muffler of sorts.
“ Wuldja cem down please?” Her mother’s accent noticeable. But unidentifiable.
“ Sure.“ Sigh. Always like this. Always. She is never allowed to just be left alone.
She stomps down the stairs to where her mother is standing. Her mother a short, slender, woman, who right now is standing with her hands on her hips.
“ Why is you not dressed?”
“ What do you mean?”
“ Ye is steel in yer pajama’s.” Sigh. “ Get dressed. Now.”
Janna stomps upstairs. Her mother turns her back and is gone to the kitchen. Janna goes into her room, closes the door, and slides to a seated position on the floor, back to door. She grimaces. Why? She wonders, why. But she has no idea what she wants to know. With more sighing she stands and walks, actually ambles, over to her closet. Clothes, clothes, and more clothes. What to wear today? She knew this mattered to her mom. She could care less.
A dress? Neh. Shorts and tank-top? Nope. Jeans? Why not. Tee-shirt? Sure, again, why not. She was bored.
Having dressed she walked downstairs. The windows were still locked and sealed. Her mom was in the kitchen, whistling. Janna took a step.
“ ‘ello honey.” Her mom smiled.
She smiled back, strained. Her mom turned back to her thing.
Janna crept silently outside-

Freedom-
Freedom-
And she ran-
Ran from home-
Mom-
Life-
To freedom-
And ultimately to…the park.
She loved the park like no other place in the world. It was serene. Peaceful. Silent. And lonely. She loved being alone, but not being lonely. And the park was lonely, but she was alone with other people, the few people, who were alone as well. The young man in spandex running suit. Creepy.
The old woman, with disheveled hair and a drug-addled face, who fed the birds. Lonely.
The single mom who looked pregnant and young. Innocence.
You could tell so much about people by watching them she had learned. Janna walked further into the park. She found her tree and slept. And thought.




******
“ Young lady! Wake up!” Someone was shouting at her. Good Lord. She slowly woke up, confused, lost.
“ What?“ she slurred, tiredly.
“ You gotta git home.” Said a toothless mouth.
“ Mmk.” She slid from the branch. And walked home-
To slavery-
Fear-
Loss-
But she needed to get home, home to her mom and dad.
Her steps were slow and tired, but she eventually made it home.
Crash-
Crash-
The tinkle of breaking glass-
The sound of frantic feet-
Janna began to run-
No-
Crash-
Tinkle-
She opened the door-
She couldn’t see anything, but she could hear. And hear was what she did. Swearing, screaming, a calm voice, soothing. Her mom was yelling at her dad. Janna walked in slowly, leaving the door open behind her.
She went through the kitchen which was covered in broken glass. The windows were still locked and sealed. This time though there were glass shards there. Grief, what did her mom do now? She continued to walk, gingerly, crunchily. Silence. She panicked. Had her mom heard.
“ You worthless dog!” No. She hadn’t heard. Still swearing, and still trying to calm her. Daddy must be in trouble, she thought.
That is when it all fell apart. The living room was a nightmare. Like hell had decided that being below wasn’t good enough and relocated. Her dad, daddy, was behind the couch, ducking occasionally as her mom threw things at him.
Her mom added to the idea that hell had relocated. She was sweating, soaked. Her clothes clung to her, damp with sweat. Her face was red and streaming with sweat. And she was cursing. Cursing like no one’s business.
Then her dad saw her-
Blinked-
Smiled-
And yelled-
“ Get the heck outa here!” He never swore.
Janna shook her head-
“Now.”-
She saw her dad’s face and realized he was serious. Dead serious. She ran. Through the kitchen, out the door…and to safety. Where was safety. As she an down her street, towards safety, lights began to turn on and people became to come to their doors.
It was very dramatic, but she didn’t notice or care. Mommy, daddy…chaos…mommy, daddy. Mommy. Daddy. Mommy, why? Daddy, why? Mommy. Daddy. And though she sometimes got frustrated with her parents she still loved them. Despite their faults. Mommeee. Daddeee. She felt like a child.




*****

The park was cold. It would have been colder had she not bartered a blanket off of some lady, for she had been a lady. Or at least Janna thought so. She could be wrong. But who cared. And the blanket warmed her sufficiently. But she hated life. And she couldn’t sleep. Sleep, sleep….
…She woke with a start. Where am I, was her first thought. Then her second thought was, why am I here? As she awoke from the grog of sleep she remembered, slowly. A fight, her parents, her running, dramatic lights…It all flashed in her head and disappeared.
She leaned back against the tree and watched the birds, the sky. So peaceful. She knew she had to return to her house, but she didn’t want to. Not yet. She breathes in and out, in and out, contemplating whether she should go back or not. And when? She stood, wiped her clothes off and smoothed them. She lay the blanket over the limb of the tree and walked away from it. From freedom. From peace. She walked away and towards home.
Her real home.





******


The house was as it had been last night. The windows were sealed, glass shards lay on the sills of them. The living room was completely ransacked. She walked slowly, the crunch of glass beneath her feet mad her cringe. She found a chair and sat, thinking, crying, worried.
“ Ma’am?” a voice said, kindly, gently.
Janna looked up, “ What?”
The man smiled. He was a medic. His shiny name plate said Russ Gordon. Russ, a gentle name.
“ Who’re you? And are you okay?” He walked over and put his hand on her shoulder. So kind.
“ Yeah. I’m fine. Oh…uh, I’m Janna. I live here with my mom and dad.”
She bent her head. “ Janna, do you know what happened?”
She shook her head. No.
“ Sir,” she said, “ where are my parent?”
“ The hospital.”
“ What! Why!”
“ Yep. They are at th’ hospital. Your dad has some severe cuts on his body and a concussion. And your mom is, well, in a daze. We found her curled up on the floor in a fetal position with these here shards o’ glass ’round her. She was shaking. Good Lord above I have never seen anything like it.”
“ Is she okay?” Janna cared, not much, but she cared. She was young, but not innocent, old, but not wise. She was caught in between. A struggling turmoil within.
“ She’s fine. Janna, has your mom ever been like this?”
“ Yeah. It’s actually pretty normal, though what I saw was definitely worse than normal. But she always is like this. At times she is sweet and peaceful, but at others she’s just, like, crazy. Crazy as in she’s going around the house and locking the doors. She’s already sealed the windows and locked them. And she is just…like when my dad gets home she does this sometimes. She thinks he’s, like, a, you know, bad guy or something. Then she throws stuff at him.”
“ Schizo.” Russ mumbled.
“ What, “ Janna asks silently; Russ began to walk to his car , “ what are you talking about?’ she screams now.
She follows him out. From the front porch she sees him pull away.
“ Wait!” She begins to chase him. His car is speeding down the road. She stops, turns and walks home.




******


Janna sat in front of the computer screen. Schizo, what was schizo? She was still searching. Nothing, nothing, nothing. She had found schizophrenia, but she didn’t think her mom had it. Did she? She was no longer sure. Her mom had sealed the windows and she occasionally put heavy things behind the door. Her was schizophrenic. She was scared of something, a dual personality.



*****


The hospital smelled of death and illness. The walls were a faded, de-saturated green color. Like puke. The nurses walked around in their nursing outfits, dull and unexciting. Their faces were white, or so they seemed to Janna. White with bright makeup, unnatural.
Janna was walking slowly to her mom’s room. She was scared, confused, lost. Guide me, was all she thought. Guide me God if you’re out there.
Room 310. The door was glossy white and sterilized. She entered. Her mother was asleep on the bed, so calm, peaceful.
“ Why, mom? Why’d you have to go and freak out like that? Hm?” Janna sat down on the chair.
A knock-
Footsteps-
A hand on shoulder-
A familiar voice-
“ Honey, you okay?” Janna looked up. Dad. Bandages covered his arms and parts of his leg. A little bandage covered his head.
“ NO dad. I’m not. Why’d mom have to go and just, like, do this? WHY! WHY DAD!, “ she was screaming now, “ DAD! TELL ME DAD. WHY!”
“ Calm down honey.” Then Janna was in his arms, sobbing uncontrollably.
Her dad began to weep.
Janna looked up at him, “ Dad?”
“ They’re gonna take her away? Your mother is gonna be taken away to…a better place.”
Janna pushed her dad away. “ What do you mean?”
“ They decided she was unfit to live with. She’s goin’ to Northern Abbey. A home for mentally screwed up people.”
Janna backed away, “ no. NO. NO!” And she ran. And ran. She ran through the hallways, down the stairs, through the parking lot.
Smack-
Moaning-
Wetness-
Seeing red-
People Screaming-
Panic-
And all faded to black…





******


…. “ NO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” Janna woke up, breathing hard, hand to her chest. She was sweating.
Her door slammed open. Her mom stood there.
“ YE okay honey?”
“ Mom?” Janna was confused.
“ Yes honey?” Her accent was beautiful.
“ Your not going to…To some Abbey?”
“ No. What ever put that thought in your head?”
Janna stood and went to her mom and hugged her. And began to cry.
“ It’s okay honey. It were a bad dream is all. Shhh. Shhh honey. It was a bad dream.”
A bad dream. That was true. All a bad dream.

im back

im back