Never trust elves. EVER.

"You better watch out, you better not cry,

You better not pout, I'm tellin' you why.

Santa Claus is coming to town."

*record needle scratches*

WHOA-WHOA-WHOA. HOLD UP. Since when is some bearded, old, fat dude in a red costume the guy we gotta be good for??! And he...knows when we're sleeping and when we're awake? And when we've been bad or good? That is just...disturbing. O.e Sometimes I just gotta wonder who came up with this stuff.

When I was 5 or 6, I thought the whole idea was funny. My mom and dad never really told me Santa Claus was real; I kinda got that into my own head because I just think like that and I'd seen a lot of movies. I figured it out one Christmas when my mom forgot to fill the stockings until the morning and I got out of bed and caught her doing it. XD Something like that, anyway. Maybe I "accidentally" peeked into some Wal-Mart bags after my parents went on a shopping spree in December and later found the same things in my stockings. I can't remember. I was only 5. I just remember what house I was in when I figured it out, and a few snatches of memory.

I upgraded a little after that. I just thought it was a gag that parents did to add to the surprise at Christmas. In all honesty, I liked the idea of Mom and Dad putting stuff in the stocking MUCH more than I liked having some stranger do it. I just didn't understand why.

Later on, around 12 or 13, I figured that Santa was a way of teaching kids about God. The presents stood for blessings that God gives us when we're good. And since He's, well, I dunno, GOD, He knows what we've been up to. That's why we have to behave ourselves. Then there's the spirit of Christmas--giving things, not getting things. And God's all about that. Santa, I figured, was a really primitive and childish way of leading up to teaching kids about God.

Getting older, I decided Santa was a symbol. He stood for everyone across the world who delivers presents to kids and such. He was, essentially, Christmas. He worked for God, I figured! Maybe he was even some kind of angel! After all, in all the movies he's such a sweet, jolly, loveable old man--kind of like the grandpa I always wanted but never got.

But the older I got, the more contempt grew in me for Santa. There's nothing wrong with Santa himself; he's just a character. The character's pretty awesome! But here's the thing: God-haters use Santa as a replacement for the real "reason for the season." Jesus and His birth is wiped out of the equation. Santa is the sweet old man who gives us presents, and gives us the so-called spirit of Christmas. We should all try to be like Santa and be giving...to heckfire with Jesus!! Just say "X-Mas" or "Happy Holidays" and you've got no problem.

See, I really HATE people who try to keep God out of the picture. Especially when it comes to holidays. I agree with Sarah, wholeheartedly. So what if it started out pagan. Agreed, that's not right. Agreed, we should celebrate the birth of Jesus every single day of our lives. But that doesn't mean we can't have a special day to celebrate it. Cuz humans are kinda stupid. They forget what Jesus did, because in the run-on sentence of life, they get too busy. But around Christmas, they remember, and they get pumped up with a lot of "giving" power that will last them through the year. ^_^

And here's another thing. I was going to write it up all by myself, but yesterday (Sunday the 18th, actually) I stumbled across this news article... O_O I actually have a little bit of respect for Justin Beiber now...I won't bore you with the entire post, but here's what he said:

"With Christmas just one week away, Justin Bieber isn't planning to head to bed early Dec. 24 to await the arrival of Santa Claus. In fact, the teen pop phenom says he's never believed in the man in the big red suit. "My mom always told me there wasn't a Santa," Bieber says in a new interview with AOL Music. "This was her logic: She thought if I grew up knowing about Santa then finding out he wasn't real, that it would be like she was lying to me. And then when she told me about God, I maybe wouldn't believe her.""

--Stolen from Yahoo News or something like that. XD

So, JB, I still don't like you. I still think you dress like a little Elvis punk and you sounded a whole lot better when you sounded like a kid. I still think that crazed fangirls totally overrate you. I still think you would sound WAY better singing rock than pop. BUT I'm gonna cut you some slack cuz we were brought up the same way. XD Just so you know.

Boy, I am terrible with concluding posts lately. lol I just wanted to say that Relient K's "Santa Claus is Thumbing to Town" (featured below) completely describes how Christmas goes crazy and wild and nuts if you only count Santa and not God. And I shall leave it at that...trusting you ACTUALLY watch the video. Otherwise, you will be lost...And sides, I went to all the trouble to find a funny video for it!!!!

A Silent Night was a Perfect Night

There's something beautifully magical about a silent winter night. I've been out in quite a few--well, at least it was still dark, because thanks to Daylight Savings Time I had to go outside and wait for the bus before the sun even dared peek over the horizon. And since I was so eager to get away from home, I was always the first to the bus stop. Standing there alone on an icy street for about fifteen minutes, I felt so much closer to the rest of the world. It was like I could sense everything. I could hear the wind whispering in the trees, I could see the city lights glowing on the clouds, I could feel the snowflakes caress my cheeks gently as if to apologize for the biting wind that carried them. God felt closer; the angels felt closer; the whole world felt closer. Without the noise, without the chaos, without the crowds, the winter wonderland was perfect. I can't even begin to describe the inspiration that ran through my veins, forming into words as I stood there freezing my tail off. Everyone else would come around, calling me crazy and complaining about the cold. But I endured because of the blissful silence.

Life is so full of noise. Doesn't matter what you're doing, something's always bound to interrupt you. Responsibilities, hobbies, friends, family, enemies, innocent and not-so-innocent bystanders, books, machinery, music, TV, cell phones, Facebook, Blogger, sports, news...and the list goes on. Something's always happening, something always needs to be done, something can always be done. Our heads get crammed so full of useless information that our internal computer starts going slow, processing all the easy things first to get them out of the way. It's the important stuff that gets ignored, that gets left until later and maybe even forgotten until it's too late, and your hard drive crashes.

"Goodness gosh, why don't you just get to the POINT already?!" you guys must be yelling at the computer screen right now. Boy, do I love getting figurative. x3 What I'm trying to say is, the noise and busyness in our lives drown out the gentle whispers of God. We get so darn absorbed in other things that we forget to remember Him. See, God doesn't like having to shout over all the noise. When He does that, things get pretty ugly--like they did with the Great Flood and in Sodom and Gomorrah. And hopefully you've never done anything QUITE that nasty!!! No, God prefers to whisper gently in our ears, in the silence...like during a winter night. Like during that silent winter night 2,000 years ago, when a little baby was born into a stable, among all the animals and smell, to an unassuming poor carpenter and his wife.

The Hebrews looked forward to their Messiah. But they were looking for a knight in shining armor on a white steed, someone who would stomp all the Romans' heads in. They weren't looking for a cute little baby wrapped in swaddling clothes, lying in a manger. That's why, unfortunately, they never found Him. People like the Pharisees had all the noise in their heads and they looked in all the wrong places. People like the poor shepherds, who were just sitting outside watching their sheep during that silent night, didn't have all that noise in their heads. When the angels came to tell them, they heard and they knew where to look.

So, like the title says, a silent winter night was a perfect night. It was the perfect time to bring around His little whisper, our Lord and Savior. For those who were listening, the glad tidings were loud and clear. So this year, make sure you keep your ears strained. We can't erase all the noise, but we can close ourselves in our bedrooms and have a quiet little talk with Jesus. Maybe He'll tell you something you need to hear.

Christmas Angels

"Be not forgetful to entertain strangers: for there by some have entertained angels unawares." Hebrews 13:2, KJV

What is an angel? Most of us think of a beautiful creature with long shining hair and soft white wings. Or if you're like Sarah, you picture a fierce warrior wielding a sword. Angels can be both. The Bible tells us about angels, heavenly beings that come from God to do His business. Sometimes they're delivering messages, sometimes they're kicking bad guy tail; but either way, they make a pretty big spectacle. Like that first Christmas two thousand and some-odd years ago, when they lit up the whole sky singing about the Savior's birth. “GloooOoooOooooOooooOriaaa...In Excelsis DeEoooo.”


Can you imagine, the whole field full of bright white heavenly light, and the whole sky full of these beautifully horrifying beings, and the whole ground shaking with the sound of their voice? Those poor shepherds. x]

Given, it's pretty awesome that God has special beings that He uses for messengers or on-call guards, depending on what needs to be done. Maybe someone needs encouragement (like Elijah), or guidance (like Joseph), or even a spiritual slap upside the head (like Balaam). Those angels seemed to come around all the time in the Bible. But the funny thing is, they don't show up as much as they used to—at least, not the real deal. You hear all kinds of stories about fake angels saying they're sent from God when they're really from the devil. A lot of people lose heart because they think God must not care about us very much anymore, just because He doesn't send angels or prophets or messengers anymore. That we know of.

Back in Bible times, people would have believed it when an angel appeared and spoke to them. In these modern times, there's fifty million things that angel could be besides an actual angel sent straight from God. It could be a hologram, or a computer generated image, or a robot, or a hallucination. They'd think the angel was an alien before they believed it was from God. My dad and I talked about that back in April when I was helping him paint a house. I was eating a peanut-butter-and-honey sandwich, quietly listening to him rant about how stupid modern-day Christians are. “Why doesn't God send prophets anymore?” he wanted to know. Usually I don't say much when he's talking, because I consider my own opinions to be pretty stupid. But my mind was preoccupied with something else, and I answered before I could catch myself: “Well, nobody would believe them.”

People don't believe in miracles or magic anymore. In a world where science holds all the answers, there's no need to believe in higher powers. There's no need to believe in a higher meaning. Sci-fi has become the new Bible and the new religion. Even the real Christians who believe in angels and such can hardly believe it when an angel or a prophet shows up—because there's been so many fakes cleverly staged by either demons or people who want publicity. So it's pretty feasible to assume that God doesn't send heavenly messengers anymore simply because nobody would listen to them. But that doesn't mean He doesn't send messengers at all. God never loses. He just changes His tactic a little.

Sometimes when I look back at my days in public school, I smile a little and wonder...what do they think of me now? I was a mysterious girl, beautiful, sweet and kind. No matter what anyone did to me, I braced myself and took it with a smile. I was never mean to anyone, at least not in their eyes; I may have lost my temper and cursed every once in a while, but I never did low, underhanded things like they would have in the same situation. No one knew who I was or where I came from. And when I left, I might as well have vanished into thin air. There would have been no way of proving that I'd actually been a real person. For all they know, I could have been an angel. I could have been sent by God to shine a light in that dark place. And who knows, maybe I was.

A friend of mine calls me Angel. Every time I see it in a message, I have to smile a little. Me, an angel? I was a brat in my childhood, I was a sneak in my early teens, and I was just plain evil when I was 16. Nowadays, I can't seem to do anything right. I'm always having dark, morbid thoughts. Some angel I am...at least, in my own opinion. What's the definition of the word angel? A messenger, a guide, a protector. I've been all of the above. With my smile and with my kind acts, I carry the message of salvation. With my encouraging and inspirational words, I point out the light waiting at the end of the tunnel. With a heart that cries out to everyone I see hurt, I do my best to shield my closest friends from harm...and I usually end up saving them in one way or another. God has obviously appointed me to be some kind of backup angel here on earth. That's a big responsibility! Sometimes it makes me pretty upset, because I feel like I'm not good enough. But if I wasn't good enough, God wouldn't have assigned me in the first place.

And have I met angels of my own? Well, sure I have! I won't name names, because I don't want anyone to feel embarrassed. But let me tell you right now, none of those angels exactly fit the stereotype that people have going on in their brains. Most of them are either rebellious punks or brokenhearted individuals. Still, they've been angels to me. They were there when I needed someone. One of them gave me the message to never give up. One of them guides me down this lonely road of life. One of them is my protector, shielding me from hurt. Goodness gawsh, I know angels! O_O Not only that, they're my close personal friends!!!

So many people go around looking for angels. Funny thing is, most of them are in plain sight. They're in the disguise of the tough punk girl who thinks she's ugly and mannish, or the hyperactive fat girl who's always crying, or the bad boy who seems destined for trouble. If you can't see them, be an angel yourself. It doesn't take much--and I tell you this from experience. It's as easy as a smile. Just try it out and see what happens. :)

You Lift Me Up

Yesterday started out with Savannah saying, "Every outside is gray. And muddy. Even the sky looks muddy." Just my day: It was raining. *SIIIGH*
But actually, though so many things that would make a bad day for me yesterday...well...DIDN'T. Funny, huh?
Me and savannah tried watching some of her superman show on her laptop, but the thing kept lying and saying there was a damaged area to skip over! NOT. So it kept skipping ever three mins, so we didn't get to watch the whole thing. We did watch the last part today, though! :)
Well, the thing I remember after that is writing down in my notepad about what a cold and wet day it was, since it was almost lunch time, and it was still raining. I was out of options for writing yesterday, so I wanted to write up a post--but it didn't work that way.
Lunch time came, and peanut started barking. There was no one at the door, so I ignored him. But then, just a minute later, my mom came downstairs with t he phone, talking about disconnection with my dad. The next thing I knew, I saw a blue and white truck pulled up to our house! o.0 and then there was some scratching on the wall outside and....and...then the lights went out! AH!
"So much for my fabled blogpost," I said within myself,"and typing up that story!"
But I wasn't worried. The other kids were excited, because they didn't understand and thought it was an adventure, and the boys must have been scared out of their witts. But I couldn't my sister. Why wasn't I worried? Heck, this has happened more than once, and God took great care of us. He is with us! I kept reminding myself that. And if the electricity didn't come back on ever again, and then the water and then eviction, I knew he would take care of us. And he did.  Mommy called Daddy back on one of the cell phones, and though he cursed, he came back, not a smudge of anger or panic on his face. I don't know what happened, but the electricity was back on in about four or five hours.
But let's not go that far yet! While we were waiting for our dad, me and all the girls got together in my room for a a read-aloud party with "At the Back of the North Wind." I was cold, and watched the snow fall down on us. Yes, with what had started out as a drippy day, ended in cold and bitter snow. Wait--what am I saying! There is nothing more beautiful than falling snow. It snowed the entire time the power was out--almost like a comfort in the times of worry. It stopped almost exactly when Daddy got home.
Now I laugh at myself for how depressed and angry I have been lately. I should have known God was there! *slaps myself upside the head* now I am smiling to myself, my heart light.
Before bed, we had family devotions time, and read the part in Job after Job had been lamenting, humbled by what had happened to him. And his friend encouraged him: Eliphaz.
And last night, before bed, I prayed for every one I could think of. Family, friends, neighbors, strangers and enemies. And I asked that they all knew that the Lord was there for them, like I do now. I love you God, and thank you for always there. Thank you for receiving this tar-colored heart, and taking to make it into something entirely new. When I let go, and step off of the edge of this rooftop of the world, thank you for flying around to catch me. Praise you, Oh God!

Souls aren't made of stone

Do you ever wake up in the morning with a song stuck in your head? I do, pretty much every morning. Probably because music is my inspiration for everything. I listen to music when I'm posting blogs, I listen to music when I'm writing stories, I listen to music while thinking deeply, I listen to music while doing difficult math, and I listen to music when I go to sleep. I tried doing that last night, putting on my dad's old fashioned headphones and turning on Switchfoot. Buuut as I said in an earlier post, I can only lay with my head facing directly upward or the plastic things that cover my ears will hurt me. T.T I couldn't go to sleep like that, so when I was half asleep I got frustrated and yanked the offensive thing off my head.

A lot of people think that the song "4:12" by Switchfoot is about materialism. That does make a small amount of sense, if you look at the second verse, which talks about this character having lowly jobs. But that's taking it out of context. If you look at the entire song, it gets confusing. Abbey, who's pretty apt at picking the meanings out of songs, told me that she thought it was about how people are fickle--everything's fine and dandy with their faith until something bad happens. I think maybe it's a little bit of both, but those ideas are just pieces of the bigger picture that Jon is trying to bring across here.

Ever since the dawn of atheism, the God-haters have been spinning the lie that there is no afterlife. There's no deeper meaning to our lives. We're just a byproduct of biological slime and a wayward bolt of lightning. We're just an accident. We don't have souls. There's no afterlife, no reward for working hard and fighting the good fight. Do you realize how worthless that makes people feel?? I mean, think of all the people who have lowly jobs. Like waiting tables or selling phones at the shopping mall. Those people can just be replaced by other lowly people. So when someone gets depressed, they think, "Oh, well I don't matter much in the world. I'm not making a difference. There's no meaning in my life. When I die, I'm just gonna go 'poof,' so why keep living when the going gets tough?" Can you imagine how many people are out there who have died because of this way of thinking? Or worse, how many people have turned to crime or drugs or sex because they thought it didn't matter?

But you see, we are more than material. This humanism thing that the God-haters have going on, it's nonsensical! Oh, they try to tell us that the idea of an afterlife is nonsensical, that their idea is what makes sense. That's because they don't want to deal with God or an afterlife, because if they do, that means they have to pay for all the scrap they've done! Heaven forbid (pun intended) that! Why do you think I say "When the only sense is nonsense, don't try to make sense of it"? That's one of many reasons!

God created you for a purpose. He's got your whole life planned out, from beginning to end, and He had it planned out when He created the universe! You're not just mutated, electrified slime; your soul isn't stone. You're a person. And inside you, there is a living breathing soul. There is deeper meaning to life. Everything that happens has a reason. If you're that busboy or that guy selling cell phones in the shopping mall, put your hope in the fact that you're not there for nothing. God has something planned for your life. You matter. That's what I'm always telling Zack, that's what I'm always telling Mari, that's what I'm always telling Abbey. In this life, there are no accidents. Remember that next time you feel worthless. ;D

One of Those Filthy Rags, Over Thar Yonder!

Well, another cleaning post! Yes, Sally, I'm following in your suit, but I felt so led to post a good teaching on somewhat the same thing! :3 So, here goes...

So, many of you, might've read the post below! Peace in the spirit, mind, and soul, is the best thing one can have, I shall call this peace a "cleanliness". I must say honestly, that this is a touchy subject, but my house has been infested by the evil cockroaches! Daily we had to keep food away from them, spray them, and even squish them with our hands! But most of the time, I kill a cockroach with "one of those filthy rags, over thar yonder" (hence the title) Have you ever noticed how churches say, "Filthy rags"? by that we think, "oh, we just used a rag on a counter, it's filthy..." NO! That is so unbiblical! If that were true, we wouldn't HAVE to use God's Son's blood to wash us. We could still forgive ourselves and everything would be fine! But that isn't the way it was! Image this: "you-just-cleaned-the-bathroom-kitchen-and-killed-cockroaches-and-all-types-of-bug-ridden-guts-with-lots-and-lots-of-mold-mildew-and-throw-up-and-more-disgusting-things-than-words-to-say-on-a-rag" type of "filthy rags"! Why would God send Jesus to die for everyone if it were just a spot of mud? We were really gross, And to think about it, God must've had a good strong stomach to clean us, not to say that not to say that we should continuously say that we are that bad, cuz God has risen us up for His glory to shine on us, and though we might've been those "FILTHY RAGS" before, we are not anymore, we are cleaned in the blood of Jesus Christ forever! I never thought of how roaches could be useful in a teaching on peace, but with all those, disgusting bugs, and gross things out there, we need to think of how God has, is, and will clean us until we no longer need it (that would be when we are in Heaven) It is the undoing of many wrongs to bring us to that clean, peace, that we have when our home, and rags are no longer in ruin. Although the world is in ruin, we can truthfully say that our lives are not, with that peace that passes all understanding! Think about the pain that Jesus suffered! Would he had done it if we could clean ourselves on our own? No, He wouldn't. But, He knew that we could not handle this on our own. It's like the overwhelmedness that you get when you look at a room that has toys, trash, clothes, and all those things that God can clean, but of your own works you couldn't, because you are only a child that needs the help of your Father!

Say Amen? AMEN!

Mari J. Fahel

That fresh, miny clean feeling...

[I know you guys have all been hankering after another of my introspective, thought-provoking posts. It seems like forever and a day since I've posted one. But since my inspiration is finally being nice to me on my secret novel, I guess I can try shooting for an amazingly inspirational post. ^_^ Here goes nuthin'....]

I'm a weird person. You want to know why? I'm obsessed with keeping my mouth squeaky clean. After I eat, I wash my mouth out with about half a bottle of water. Then I floss. Then, after about ten or fifteen minutes, I have to go brush my teeth because a bad taste is spreading through my mouth. It makes me think about all the bacteria that's starting to feed on the particles of food on my teeth, and I'm like, BLEGH! I can't think straight until I run upstairs and brush my teeth thoroughly. And I do mean thoroughly. I brush my tongue, the inside of my cheeks, and the roof of my mouth. I spit out the toothpaste, rinse the brush, and go over my teeth again just in case. The one thing I hate about toothpaste, though, is that it leaves a yucky sugary residue that starts tasting EYUUUCK after about half an hour, so I have to go get a drink. T.T lol. I'm always drinking water, not because I'm thirsty but because my mouth tastes funny. And I must brush my teeth every two or three hours. I don't keep count.

If you think about it, life is exactly like that. As human beings, we do, experience, and witness a lot of distasteful things. Heartbreak. Abuse. War. Sexual immorality. Sorcery. Lying, cheating, stealing, murdering. Little things, like losing your temper or not cleaning your room. It's all over the place! Everything leaves particles and residues in your brain that start rotting and growing spiritual "bacteria" if you don't do something about it.

When a Christian refers to someone's heart being "dirty," they envision a coating of dirt or mud. Because I've been raised in a Christan family, sometimes I think like that, too. But, honestly, to my mind dirt really isn't all that dirty. It's just dirt. God created the dirt to be the perfect source of nutrients, and the perfect recycling method. Things that were dead feed life to the plants that, in turn, give animals and humans life. And let's not forget, you're talking to the two-year-old girl who actually ate mud and offered some to her dad. xD

No, I think real "dirt" is bacteria, viruses, and all kinds of germs. I'm very conscientious about that. I'm continually washing my hands for apparently no reason; I'm always brushing my teeth way more than I should. I even get jittery when something potentially bacteria-infested brushes my arm or leg and I go stick my foot in the sink. xD Or if I think it possibly got on my clothes, I hurry up and change as quickly as possible.

So, when I think of a "dirty" heart, I compare it to a dirty mouth. I think of a festering, nasty infection with pus...kind of like a really bad ingrown toenail. Am I weird? Yes, I most certainly am, dears. I think of the world being germy. I think of every little tiny bad thing that I do as a brush with potentially bacteria-infested objects. I'm like, EYEWWWW....and I run off to God to get a spiritual checkup and some free spiritual toothpaste, floss, and a brand new toothbrush. ^_^ After I really have a good talk with God, I really feel better. Even if I'm just spouting off all of my emotions. I'm glad that no matter how stupid I am or how dirty and bacteria-infested I get, God's always going to be happy to clean me up again. ^_^

Interview with B-SHOC!!

Be sure to check out his website at www.b-shoc.com!

Gotta love them fireworks.

When I was about 9 or 10 years old, my mom hauled down a Rubbermaid box to get me some winter clothes--I'd grown out of the ones I had last year. I took a particular liking to a blue sweatshirt with plain yellow embroidery on the front. It said: When the outlook is poor, try the up-look. I didn't really get it, but I liked the color blue, sooo....yeah. Later, when I wore it for the first time, I asked my dad what it meant. I used to ask him questions all the time.

"Well, honey," he said, "that means when things don't look good in front of you, around you, or under you, you look above you." He pointed one finger up at the ceiling. Of course I couldn't resist looking up. Then I just gave him a confused look. "What?"

"You pray."

I was too little to really understand what it meant to pray in times of trouble. Back then was when I thought "trouble" was stealing a handful of cookies from the jar. I thought the worst thing in the world that could happen to me was getting grounded from the TV. And when it came to God, I had the faith of a child. I knew He was there, because the Bible told me so, and that was enough for me.

Little did I know that later on in life I was going to pay a ten-month visit to public school, heartbreak, and betrayal. Walking through those hallways, I felt more alone than I ever had in my life. I couldn't see God in the faces of that crowd of people who didn't care about me. I needed to know He was there. Not just by praying and feeling that He was there; since I'd already discovered the meaning of false love and unfounded hope, I couldn't trust my faith. I needed to know He was there. I needed to see His hand working in the horrible situation I was in. I needed the assurance that this was part of His plan.

I was looking around me, at the people who called themselves my friends. I was looking ahead of me, at the future that school promised me. I was even looking under my feet, at the people who seemed bad. I couldn't see God anywhere. Not anywhere at all. What was I missing? The up look.

I started out this post with the intention of telling you just how God revealed that it was all His plan. But when I got to this paragraph and tried typing it up, I realized that...well, that's something that I should keep to myself. "Treasure it in my heart," like Mary did when she was raising Jesus. I guess all I can say is that up to this very day, God's been showing me, little by little, that He planned all of it. ALL of it. The false friends, the pain, the betrayal, the bad choices that I made; even the little things that seemed insignificant. If those things hadn't have happened, my life would be a lot different now and I would have lost the hopeful part of me. As I sit here today, typing this on a laptop, I realize just how much God's lit up the sky--then, afterwards, and now. And I think He'll keep on lighting up the sky with those amazing fireworks of His.

Trust me, He's there in everything. When I look back on those ten months and try to think of how things could have worked differently, I realize that no matter how terrible it was, I wouldn't have it any other way. I couldn't. And I shouldn't. God's plan for me is in everything that happens and everything I do. He's in the sky, my friends, my family, even this silly little blog. You just have to try the up-look. You have to remember who God is, and look for Him. Nothing is impossible; every little thing happens for a reason. Once you look for Him, you'll see Him. How do I know? Well...maybe that's a story to be told at a later date. But you know I'm not lying.

Don't blink

Have you ever woken up in the morning and buried yourself back under the blankets because you don't want to face another boring day? I hope it's not just me. I mean, some people don't want to wake up because they're tired of drama and/or stress. Me, I want to stay in my dream world because it's so much more cooler. Lately, I've been dreaming about zombies, gangsters, and X-Creatures!! O.o I have all kinds of adventures in my dreams, and then when my mom pounds on the wall to wake me up, I get dragged back into the boring, monotone mundanity of reality.

It's easy to fall into our schedules, those carefully planned days where everything goes exactly as planned. We get tired of the same thing. Then we try to insert interesting things into our lives (and sometimes get into trouble). We watch tons of movies, play video or computer games, read books. Or just mess around on the computer doing nothing at all. Then we're quick to fall asleep to jump back into those awesome dreams.

But sometimes, God has things planned for us even in the most mundane of lives. He may not throw you something incredibly exciting--say, a zombie apocalypse--but He'll still throw you something. Something that you have to act upon to make things interesting. Say you notice that the guy at the cash register isn't really having a good day. You just might brighten up his day by smiling and asking him how he is. You never know! That's why you have to keep your eyes open all the time, so you don't miss those little things! You have to come out of your little shell of fantasy to watch the world around you...because it can happen in a blink.

I Dare You To Move

Have you ever felt like not getting up in the morning? Do you ever wish that you could just die and leave this world? How about ending you own life? Sometimes we pass by people in the street that are completely alone, and we never notice. We could just glance at them and not notuce that they are crying. Has that ever happened to you? You just wish that someone out there could just only see you and feel for you? Know that you exist? I sympathize. I'm sure it has happened to every one.
At this point, we begin to feel worthless, lonely, unloved and forgotten. Yourself asking: "Lord, What happens next?" Well, kids, welcome to the planet. Welcome to existence. I bet you didn't know that we are watching you. Every one is. All of us. We are watching your every move, your every emotion and lifestyle...it's just that we don't know it...not even you.
Every person you've ever spoken to, you've made a difference on. We analyze everything that you do, say and look like. Who are you? what kind of person are you? So are you just going to keep us guessing? What makes you tick, man? What is that spring in your step? Why are you going to church? How come you don't read your Bible anymore? These questions may not be voiced, but they are all there. Believe it or not, you are in the spotlight.
Here's the catch: I dare you to move! I dare you to get up, and stand up for what you believe in.Even after you are hit with the greatest blow, even when you are stabbed in the fight, get up, acting like it never happened. There are a billion people in the world that are striving to hear you story, countless soldiers looking for a king to serve. Who is your king? Christianity might not be in...but are Justin Bieber and Lady GaGa all that worth drooling after? Is Twilight a pursue-able dream? They aren't your God, creator and Father. THey aren't your friend's either. You know that--but do they?
You may have a torn heart, a heavy soul, and full of depression, but you're not dead yet! You have the very breath of life breathed into you by your father, and you have the ability to GET UP OFF OF THAT FLOOR. Here id your dare: move. Can you accomplish that? Will you step into the challenge, or finish that last chapter of Eclipse? Do you have a JB or GaGa concert to go to? It's your loss, child. Do us both a favor, and MOVE!!!!!!!
Inspired by this song:
"Welcome to the planet
Welcome to existence
Everyone's here
Everyone's here
Everybody's watching you now
Everybody waits for you now
What happens next?
What happens next?

I dare you to move
I dare you to move
I dare you to lift yourself up off the floor
I dare you to move
I dare you to move
Like today never happened
Today never happened before

Welcome to the fallout
Welcome to resistance
The tension is here
The tension is here
Between who you are and who you could be
Between how it is and how it should be

I dare you to move
I dare you to move
I dare you to lift yourself up off the floor
I dare you to move
I dare you to move
Like today never happened
Today never happened

Maybe redemption has stories to tell
Maybe forgiveness is right where you fell
Where can you run to escape from yourself?
Where you gonna go?
Where you gonna go?
Salvation is here

I dare you to move
I dare you to move
I dare you to lift yourself, to lift yourself up off the floor
I dare you to move
I dare you to move
Like today never happened
Today never happened
Today never happened
 Today never happened before"
~ I Dare You To Move, Switchfoot
HOOSHA,
Abbey<3

Innocence

"I see why the good old days are gone..."

Note: In this blog post I rant a lot about the trash they put into movies and such these days. Although I do not get descriptive, I mention the word "sex" a lot, so if you might be offended by that, you do not have to read on. I know I'm taking a big step posting about this, but it needs to be said.

I will admit. I am a hopeless romantic. It is very rare that I like a romance-less movie, book, cartoon, or TV show. But really, people? REALLY? Must you ruin a perfectly good storyline with smut and garbage that makes it so I can't watch it anymore?? Take Heroes, for instance. I loved that show. It had so many cool guys and girls and superpowers and suspense and everything...but goodness gracious, was that show tainted. At first, it was just little scenes here and there. A stripper here, an affair there...but then you started getting into the fourth season and UGH, was that peppered with...joshness. It was everywhere. And it didn't help that not ONLY was Sylar falling in love with Claire, but there was this GIRL falling in love with her too!!! DX It's not just that, either. Some movies I probably won't be able to watch (and wouldn't want to) because Sarah already reported the damage Hollywood did to the new X-Men and to Green Hornet. >.< It is just INFURIATING. My sister and I call it "Hollywood Fever."

Turn on your TV. I dare you. I'd bet a hundred chances to one that you couldn't go for an hour without one reference to trash. Cursing. Gore. Sex. Or even a crude joke. What's that you say? You're watching a clean show? Oh, well what about the commercials?? Have you noticed that just about every hygiene commercial has something to do with sexual appeal or lust? I mean, gosh dang, I can remember this one soap commercial that had a woman in the shower and they all but showed...everything. (I'm sorry for those of you who are feeling uncomfortable reading this, but it does need to be said...)

How did things get like this? Well, ladies and gentlemen, I can actually tell you. Last week I read a few historical fiction novels that took place around that time where movies were just getting into style. The directors thought they knew exactly what would sell. Action. Adventure. When ratings went off the charts, they added more danger--like actually getting REAL cattle to stampede and nearly run over the heroine. Then they figured people wanted more about the romance between the hero and the heroine. Guess what?? In comes kissy face. >__> Now I will admit, I like kisses in movies (every once in awhile, and if it's not a dirty kiss like what was in The Chronicles of Riddick...UGH UGH UGH...more like a kiss like the one in Penelope). But then the directors decided to go one step more. They brought in the...umm...trash. And you know what? People liked it. They wanted more. And you know what? That's how we got to where we are today--because everybody wanted more. And nobody stopped it.

Now we live in a world riddled with lust, even to its very core. It's almost like gangrene. My sister had two little--little!--twin boys on her bus whose minds were more twisted than some teenagers I knew. I've babysat a five year old who was actually allowed to read her father's porn magazines (and yes, he was married). Everywhere you turn, you see a girl with a shirt cut horrifyingly low, and you see guys wearing their pants so we can see their boxers. And you think cursing used in normal conversation is bad? Wait till you talk to someone who lets loose a crude joke every few paragraphs, and you're the only one who blushes like crazy. They have taken something that was meant to be precious and turned it into...well, they've just...PERVERTED it. You can't even talk about marriage anymore without somebody dirtying it up.

Of course, they tell you that it's freedom. You shouldn't have to wait until you're married. In fact, you shouldn't even have to wait until you're an adult!! Even if you do get married, you shouldn't have to stay faithful if you fall out of love with your spouse. Did you forget to use birth control?? That's an accident that can be fixed!!! LET'S KILL YOUR BABY AND MAKE IT ALL BETTER!!! And you know what? While we're at it, why don't we vrigging LEGALIZE HOMOSEXUAL MARRIAGE?!?!?! Oh, and don't forget that innocent blonde girl in the corner who blushes every time someone says something perverted--let's make her feel STUPID for wanting to keep her mind, as well as her body, pure!!!

Well, America, you GOT your sexual freedom. You have millions of teenage girls who have ruined their lives because no good man will accept them. You have millions of children who have no father and mother--if they're lucky enough to make it out of the womb alive. You have AIDS, HIV, and hundreds of other STD's. You have poor confused boys who think they have to love other boys because girls are heartbreakers. You have girls who have their innocence stolen from them because they don't know that the clothes they wear tempt men beyond what they can bear. You have men whose marriages are ruined because of the beautiful vampires that walk the streets at night, seeking whom they may devour. You have children whose minds are blinded because the first thing they learn about "the marriage bed" is a graphic picture on the internet that they will never be able to forget.

I hope you're happy, America.

Still think you're free??

But you know what? I want to be innocent. To all those people out there who's ever made fun of me because I'm pure, TO HECKFIRE WITH YOU. Your plans have failed--I'm still going to wait for the man God has chosen for me, and I am going to wait until AFTER our marriage vows. No, I'm not going to look up things that will "satisfy" me until later. No, I'm not going to keep watching your TV show after you've polluted it with trash--no matter how much I like the superheroes in it. I am NOT some empty space for rent. I am NOT going to play love like a game. I am NOT going to go looking for temporary love just because I feel lonely. I want to be INNOCENT. I am going to STAY that way!!!

I wanna be innocent

Yours wholeheartedly

Innocent

Every part of me

Take me back so I can see

The way that love was meant to be!

Lock the windows...bolt the doors.

You hear so much good about the human race. We've developed all kinds of things, from telephones to flying cars. We've got minds that are beyond any other creature on this earth. We write books, we make movies, we eradicate sicknesses that have killed millions before us. But you know what else we've done? Screwed up. We might have found new sources of energy, but we're making holes in the atmosphere while we're at it. In our history, we have killed billions, if not trillions of our own kind in needless wars. We've torn down forests and poisoned oceans, things that God gave to us not only for their beauty, but for what they could offer us. And let's not forget that the very core of our existence has been torn apart--our families. We have made love worthless, and as a result love is treated like disposable wipes. Once we're done, we throw it away. (But did you know most so-called 'disposable things aren't really disposable? Do some research if you don't believe me.)

Now, just so you know, I'm not about to go on some environmentalist wacko rant. I'm not saying that humans should be eradicated from the face of the earth! If I were saying that, I'd be saying that I should die! Not to mention I'd be a traitor to my own kind. >_> I mean, God did put us here for a reason. But that reason was not to destroy. Yes, we were made to have dominion over this planet, but dominion comes with responsibilities. We're supposed to take care of what God has given us. I believe it was Teddy Roosevelt who said that we should preserve the environment for future generations (see, public schoolers? I am learning something!). We should not waste what God has given us.

(Look at where this post has gone. I didn't mean to talk about the environment! Whoo-hoo! Three cheers for ranting!)

My point is, that the one thing us humans seem to be good at is screwing things up. Every time we try to take something into our own hands, it falls apart. I can testify to that wholeheartedly. I have tried so many times to throw God out of the equation and deal with something myself--because I'm too proud to really ask for His help. I want to do it on my own. But the problem is, that I can't do much on my own. Except screw up, of course. If I wanted to, I could tell you about screw-ups of astronomical proportions that came from these two hands of mine. I've lost friends, I've made my parents mad at me, I've ruined my reputation as a Christian to my neighbors. Goodness gosh, am I good at royally screwing things up eight ways to Sunday. You have no idea.

When I first thought of writing this post, I was in a very depressed mood. The song that played in my head like a mantra was Relient K's Devastation and Reform: "I feel like I was born for devastation and reform, destroying everything I love and the worst part is: I pull my heart out, reconstruct; but in the end there's nothing but a shell of what I had when I first started." Why? Well, let's just say that I made one of my best friends a little angry with me because I lied to her and was keeping secrets. Not only that, but this little secret was something I was doing that my parents had forbidden me to do. (And no, I'm not going to tell you what it was. So there.) I felt so lost, and more than once I wondered, "God, what am I doing here? Surely you don't have any use for someone who does nothing but screw up!" And let me tell you right now, I was more depressed than I've been in a long time.

I'm not going to tell you that I had this revelation somewhere deep in my soul right when I said that. It took a couple of days for me to find the answer to my question. Truthfully, it's probably because I was too afraid to talk to God because I thought He'd be mad at me just like everyone else (in fact, I have yet to talk to Him about it)! But you know what I realized? I realized that humans have been screwing up since the beginning. Every time we get away from God and start presuming that we can do it on our own, we screw up. That's just God's little reminder that we're not perfect, and consequently, we need Him!

So. Now that I'm finished writing this, I'm going to have a one on one with my Lord and Savior, and YOU are going to add your reactions and possibly a comment. Oh, and listen to this song. ^_^

The Mirror Lies (FOR GIRLS ONLY)

We have this problem, one of the bigger problems in the world... Insecurity. Everyday we are attacked by this mental wave-link called the mirror. Daily, our insecurity shows on the face we scrutinize in the mirror. Daily, we rub the "big hips" that we don't like. What is the way out of this? Can we still find our way? And what if we don't? We are insecure with our weight, our looks and why God made us with these. Why not like Taylor Swift? Or Brittany Spears? Have you ever looked at their lives? Do we know if they aren't asking the very same questions right now? We, the girls of the world feel pressured to be a certain weight, height, and with certain looks about us. But haven't you noticed that the ones that are pressuring us are the ones who think the same way about themselves? Where shall we go to be free of this...situation, to break free of the bonds of "outward beauty" when we should be working on our "inward beauty"? Fashion is fine to a certain point, but we make it our everything because of the Television, the magazines, the newspapers, everything calls for us to be.... well "sexy" and all, but God calls us to be BEAUTIFUL INSIDE (and THEN out)! Where have we fallen? A rut of "Sexy and hot" pressures. God can only fix the rut we have made! Can everyone say Amen? AMEN!

~Mari J. Fahel~

ORANGIE, ORANGIE!

I'm going to share a personal story today. ^.^ its not entirely personal, but my dad once did something really nice that made a difference on a Korean woman.
My daddy was a soldier in the army, at boot camp, and was put in a camp thing in Korea.

A day or so ago, me and my family were eating dinner, and my daddy brought up his days in Korea. He said:
 "Once I was just walking down the sidewalk, casually peeling an orange, and this lady that your mom had a soft spot for went walking past me, and seeing me eating the orange, she burst out into tears. I didn't know why at first, but you see, people can't get  oranges in Korea---they cost a lot of money. Someone like her couldn't have oranges. I was an American soldier--i was treated better. I could just stroll down to the market and get myself an orange, and not even think about it. "
 So Daddy walked down to her little shop, and asked her what was the matter; Of course, he couldn't understand a word of the
Korean that she was ranting away--but he understood this: "Orangie, Orangie!" she cried in her distress. She sobbed,"Orangie!"
"alright!" Daddy said, being the  guy he is, he said, "ill walk right down there and get you a whole bag!They're just around the corner!"
 She didn't understand what he said, saying he'll be right back, but he left for the market. He, determined to stop the poor old lady's tears, got this huge paper bag and started taking out bundles and putting them in.
He then strolled down to the store. Holding the bag, he asked the lady, casualy, if she had one of those little mini strawberry-banana milk-shakes. She nodded, eying that big brown paper bag as she reached under the counter for it. When she brought it up, Daddy gave her a smart look, and hauled the oranges onto her counter.
" Are these enough to pay with?"
At this, the poor lady just broke down into tears. She begged him to let her pay for it, but good ol' Daddy refused(besides, soldiers got in trouble for  selling the Koreans anything!). This was more than she could take, the poor lady. She either really loved oranges, or she realized that she could sell all of those in her little shop! I honestly don't know, because my dad and this lady didn't use the same language---but even in a forein land, Christianity reaches out. This proves how even the tiniest action, no matter where you are, makes the difference!
HOOSHAH and God bless,
Abbey

You're not invisible.

Okay, get this. I went to sleep last night with Disciple's Horseshoes and Handgrenades blaring into my ears. No joke. See, heavy metal is such a part of me that it actually SOOTHES me instead of rattling my nerves. xD Invisible came on and though it's not as heavier as the others on that album, the lyrics are really strong and communicate what needs to be said.

I can quite confidently tell you that I learned absolutely nothing worth knowing in school--book wise. Of course, I learned quite a few things about the way the world turns in this day and age. The root of everything that messes up people's lives is that nobody cares. Because nobody cares, so many lonely outcasts hide their emotions from the whole world. I know because I was one of those lonely outcasts. Now, I know I said in my last post that I was a popular girl; that was true. I fit in every circle, from preppy to jock to goth to emo to nerd to the...just plain weird people. Everybody in the entire school knew about the sweet, pretty blonde girl who used to be homeschooled. There was a rumor going around about me and Zack... >__> Nothing too bad, just that he was my boyfriend. HA. We were just friends. TAKE THAT, GOSSIP QUEENS.

Anyway, back to my original point. I may have been the popular girl, but it was really only because I was a prodigy. I mean, come on. I was pretty, sweet, naive, innocent, nerdy, previously homeschooled, and Christian. I was like some sort of...well, I guess you could call it a circus freak. They only wanted to be friends with me because they wanted to find out what I was like. They could have cared less how I felt, what I was thinking or what I was going through. And let's face it, people, I was a good girl...in a crowd of not-so-good kids. They didn't really want to be around me because my sheer purity made them feel guilty about themselves. So, after my novelty started to wear off, I saw my "friends" start to fall away. Only boys would really talk to me, because of course I was a pretty girl. T.T As for the rest of the Mordor population...I would walk up to their crowd and say, "Hi," and they'd answer, "Oh, hi S*******," then turn away and continue with their conversation as if I'd never appeared. I could literally walk away and they wouldn't notice.

No wonder I turned emo. >__>

It's not fun being alone, especially not in a mob of people where everybody has their circle of friends. The loneliness seems to swallow you up in this deep abyss of blackness, sucking all the life out of you. It's easy to feel like you're worthless and not making a difference in life. It's easy to feel like there's nobody in the whole wide world who gives a scrap about you. It's easy to feel like your emotions are killing you. The strange thing about it is, the lonelier you get, the lonelier you want to be, and you start closing yourself off from everyone. You yell at the people who truly care about you, and you get buddy-buddy with the people you barely know because, well, they barely know you.

TAKE THAT, ALL PEOPLE WHO THINK THAT I DON'T KNOW WHAT IT'S LIKE JUST CUZ I'VE BEEN SHELTERED FOR MOST OF MY LIFE!!!!

(not that any of them are going to be reading this...but...I just had to say it.)

Christians, you need to watch for those outcasts! They are out there, and though they might act like they want to be alone, THEY DON'T. Deep down inside, they want somebody to care to listen and understand. If there is no one who will do that, their life will go down horrible paths. They'll get into drinking or drugs. They'll get into crime. They'll get into love where they waste what was meant for their future husband/wife. They might even get into self harm and eventually suicide. Why? Because us humans were made to need love. Without love, we're empty. Our life means nothing, because love is what defines our worth.

Of course, there's only one love that's completely and totally perfect. That is the love of Jesus Christ our Lord and Savior, who died on the cross to wash away our sins and pay our way to heaven. That's the love that they, that all of us, are really looking for. But they have to see it first. Our first job as Christians is to spread the love and light we've been given. We have to look for the outcasts, go sit with them, talk to them, say hi to them, give them friendly smiles. We have to show them love. Yes, they'll wonder why we're paying them special attention. But if you don't push God on them (because they usually think God either hates them or doesn't care), only show them His love, they will see Him living in us. They will see His love through our love. They will eventually understand that the love you have is the love you get from Jesus. And their eyes will be opened to His gift. Someday, whether they become a Christian directly because of you or because of the seed you planted, they will be saved. (Can I say this for sure? Not really...it is their choice. But I can assure you, there' more hope when you love them than if you ignored them and let them stay invisible.)

If there is anyone out there reading this post who feels invisible, I want to tell you that Jesus does care. He can hear your slightest whisper, He can see your smallest tear. He can see right into your heart, and He understands every emotion you keep hidden there. And He cares. He will always care. He's cared since the beginning of time, way before you were even born. You matter to Him. And you know what? You matter to me--why else would I take the time to write a blog post begging Christians to care about you? Watch this video, I hope it says something to you. ^_^

Sick and wrong. WRONG SICK!

It's been cloudy and overcast all day today, with scattered showers here and there. The soft, sandy dirt is a comfortable peat-like texture that feels exilharating on bare feet, and the scattered piles of mulch in my yard are damp enough so they don't poke me. The temperature is not too cool, not too warm, with a deliciously balmy breeze fluttering through the grape leaves twisted around the lattice. I sit there on the bench underneath the skinny maple tree, listening to Flyleaf's "So I Thought." The notebook is balanced precariously on top of my crossed legs, while my faithful orange BIC Velocity pencil waits patiently for the words to come. The page is blank except for the header: "Chapter Six: 'Once you've been in the dark as long as I have, it can't surprise you anymore.'" I know what's going to happen. I just don't know how to make it happen.

Ah, writer's block. It's enough to make one feel quite useless. Especially when I work on my stories so hard because I feel like they're the one shot I have at making a difference in this world. My friends are the proud, the few. I barely get comments on any site I've ever been on--I'm lucky to get a total of three on a post, story, or status update. I barely get half as many listeners on my radio show as compared to my dad or any one of his friends. In the back of my mind, I think maybe, just maybe, if I can get at least one book published, then I'll make a difference. But the truth is, I know deep down inside I could probably count the sold copies on one hand. Why? Because only my friends would buy my book. Only my friends comment, and only my friends listen to my radio show. I could just send them copies of my work and never get my book published anyway. So, when I'm hit hard with writer's block, I ask myself, What's the point?

My dad keeps telling me that I should finish my book because it's going to make a difference in the lives of my kids. That a guy would immediately snatch up a girl with 1) pretty long blonde hair, 2) a pure heart, and 3) several books published. And by getting a guy, that means kids, right? :(( The truth is, that the town I live in is full of punks who don't appreciate a girl like me. They don't like good, because good makes them feel guilty. Besides, they don't want to actually get married...they want to have their way with a girl and skip on to the next one. I probably wouldn't meeta "good guy" on the internet, either, because after several experiences in the past two years, I have a hard time trusting a guy's word, period, much less over the internet where lies are much easier to tell.

And days like these are the days where I wish I could still be in public school. It's crazy, I know (not to mention kinda stupid). But when I was over there in Mordor, I had lots of 'friends', lots of people who liked me, lots of fangirls, lots of fanboys, and lots of people who would actually listen to me when I talked. Plus, there's a lot more choices in the guy department. (Haha, now I sound like I'm comparing boys to shoes! XD ) I had lots of people I could help--lots of people who could talk to me and I would listen, lots of people I could give advice, lots of people I could give homework help, lots of people to share smiles with and brighten up their day. A hug. A handshake. A kiss... (And now I'm quoting Rogue.)

Those were the thoughts running through my head as I sat there in my backyard. I glared at the tree in front of me, as if I had something against it. But then I remembered something Zack told me, only a week ago. "If you lived your whole life suffering every day, and then one day you saved someone's life, is it worth a lifetime of suffering worth living to save that one person?" Not that I'm not really suffering anything worse than a bad case of melancholy, monotone mundanity. But it's true that I do make a difference, however small it may be. I make a difference with my dad's friends, because I know my way around the computer and can do amazing things with their episodes, their websites, and their logos. I make a difference with my friends in real life; I'm the one person who actually wants to be friends with the short, nerdy, weird girl living down the street, and I'm the one person who will always be there for the guy whose life seems to be falling apart. I make a difference with my friends on the internet, because I'm the sweet, crazy girl who believes friendship is just as strong from a kajillion miles away.

So, I bent over my notebook and started to write. As "Beautiful Bride" started doing serious damage to my eardrums, my pencil flew over the paper, true to its name. I wrote an entire paragraph before my dad threw a ball at me to get my attention--he had something he wanted me to do. My lips curved into a smile and I ran into the house. And now I'm sitting here finishing up this blog post; as soon as I do, I'm going to tackle that Killer's Creed again.

Cuz I remembered that I'm a little more than useless.

Zombie Christians Among Us!

This? Your neighbor? Your brother? your friend? YOU??? Naaaaah! No such thing as "the walking dead"....but what if I told you that there was,and the so-fabled "Zombie Apocalypse" is already at hand, and has been for decades? "what? Nooo," you say. But ah....you are mistaking zombies for the guy at the left.

Zombies are literally the walking dead, yet they are also not literally. o.0 what? you don't understand? well, let me make it more clear to you: Ever seen a person call themselves a christian, go to church precisely every time the occasion calls, but even in church.....THEY ACT SOOOO FAKE...and it's so obvious? Yeah. That's what preachers and such calla dead christian...and where I live, there are dead entire churches. Go for the rock music, go to look good, go to get a gf/bf....actually, my town is made up of these zombies! My neighborhood! How do I ever get around it, You ask? Well...I'm still working on the zombie cure. :/ but I'll get it eventually! But when I do pull it up, it'll have a great deal to do with the Bible and Jesus will have to be at my side. Besides, who could face a Zombie Apocalypse without a trust-worthy partner?
If you're having problems with zombies in your christian home, then just call the zombie exterminater, and They'll help you(God the father, God the son, and God the spirit, and their trusty HOLY BIBLE handbook written just for you)!!!! Just close your eyes and fold your hands....help is on the way!
Best wishes and God bless,
ERIKA