In the world of zoom zoom cars and racer boys,
there is something known as a timed run or as the asian raceboys will call it, a time attack.
The concept is simple, one driver, one car, no opponents execpt the stopwatch.
Its primarily used as a measure of one's own performance, to test to current limits safe or unsafe on the car, to build a driver's confidence in how far he can push himself and the car, to judge where things could be improved, man or tech.
It is never supposed to be a race, except against one's own expectations and the ability to reach them.
~~~
~Time attack ~
~~~
Its a silvery moon lit night in the Adelaide hills, the driver was bored and frustrated. The poor cr hadn't been driven properly in what felt like an eternity.
Jumping in the car, making sure the engine was warm enough, the drive begins.
The sedate purr of the engine used to doing office runs now turns into a growl puncutated by turbo whistles and angry hisses from the blow off valve.
The coilover suspension that caused daily headaches over speedbumps are now doing the work they were designed to do as they push,pull & strain together to pull the heavy sedan through the curves of the winding road.
The driver takes stock of the performance and makes mental notes, the turbo is beginning to lag, perhaps its time to get it rebalanced or replaced. Grip limit on the fronts was somewhat less than expected, not getting these tyres again. The new fog bulbs are working well and improve visibility on the near field edges. etc... etc...
The warm up section of the road had passed and now the driver was in full concentration, blasting through the narrow hill roads, experimenting with gear changes and breaking to enable just that little bit more.
There's no music in the car tonight, just the roaring rumble of road noise and the engine.
The only car on the roads the lone blue volks as it tears into the hills, xenon lamps piercing the darkness.
~~~
Somewhere on that faithful drive from memory, the road from the adelaide hills shifts to an unknown mountain track from the mindscape.
The wide twin laned route suddenly pulses into something narrower, tighter, faster.
The driver and his steed blink in surprise then downshift for more power to climb a rise.
The german engine roars in response.
The cabin is alight in red and blue as the driver listens to the rumbling road, and the engine note, monitoring for changes.
Then he hears something else in the dark night air.
A low thrum, short, sharp gear changes, a deafening roar of another exhuast.
Something powerful.
Sir, we are not alone whispers the blue steed to his master.
There was nothing else on this narrow route, a twin blind then, thinks the driver. 2 roads running independent of each other, leading to the same destination.
This was not a time attack anymore.
The driver pushes thoughts of the phantom car away and concentrates on the road ahead, it was testing him to his limits.
Sharp turns, gravelled surfaces hiding potholed scars, narrow winding bends, the blue car was tuned, but not for this kind of driving.
Rubber pits against bitumen, the engine gasps for air as it burns fuel into power, the heavy blue steed fights its limitations to overcome the obstacles safely.
All the while, the powerful sounds of the phantom car fills the night air, coming from all directions.
The road was getting treachrous now, and the driver knew the car was at it limits, he was at his limits.
The engine warning light flashes as he powers through one last hairy turn,
And finds himself pulling into the outskirts of a beautiful city.
Stopping the car he steps out and looks behind for signs of the phantom racer that had twinned his journey.
No signs...
the twin blind road must have carried it to another direction.
He would never know how close he came to loosing.
Looking around at the sights of the alien city, marvelling at the columns, the buildings and the fountains, he asks himself, does it really matter? I got here didn't I?
Turning to his blue friend he checks for damage,
Sir, I did not fare too well that last leg, I think I hurt something.
It didn't matter to the driver, he had found his new home and there would be plenty of time to refresh, repair and drive on.
scene fades for us as we notice a figure pearched high on another hill top, having watched the entire event unfold, now listening quietly to the fading sounds of the phantom car disappear into the distance as the twin blind road leads away from the city of Rome.
Wednesday, August 27, 2008
Tuesday, August 26, 2008
Good Doctrine
It was at a seminar in a apologetics that I heard the phrase:
Good doctrine must exist, if for nothing else because bad doctrine exists and must be clarified
Or something to that effect.
I've struggled for years to work on my daily devotions, to read and meditate on the word and for that 2 way communication that I see others around me have.
Even now I wonder how to go about it, but in my recent times I've noticed that revelations come when I talk about my walk to others.
I came up with a crazy idea, instead of reading the daily breads and what nots that don't work for me.
Why don't I try writing them?
Hey, if nothing else, its a few more bits of writing from me.
~~~
Gideon's Dad ~
I love the story of Gideon's walk.
How a lowly, scared young man from the smallest tribe of a defeated country is called a mighty man of valour as he works in the field.
But lets not talk about Gideon tonight.
Lets look at Judges 6: 27 - 32.
In a nutshell, Gideon obey's the word of the lord and tears down the alter of Baal, incurring the wrath of the townsfolk.
Filled with rage the angry mob descends on Gideon's house, crying out for his blood.
Gideon's dad Joash stands before the blood thirsty crowd and defends his son's actions and thereby ensuring Israel's freedom.
Did we notice that the alter that was torn down belonged to Joash?
Here was a man who had turned from God, set up an idol's alter was probably fairly large (come on, it took 11 men to take the thing down AND the townsfolk noticed immediately that it was gone.
Joash must have been a fairly devoted Baal worshiper too, given the fact that his family was a poor one and the relative size and prominence of said alter.
So, Joash the devoted Baal worshiper is suddenly standing in front of a blood thirsty crowd defending his son?
I like to think that Joash discovered that the alter had been destroyed early, and went to have that long and angry talk with Gideon.
I like to think that on hearing about Gideon's encounter with the Lord he realized the folly of his ways and repented.
I like to picture Joash saying to Gideon, I have sinned against the lord and I will go and appease the townsfolk lest they kill you. I will offer my life to atone my sin so that you my son may be used to glorify God's work and restore our family.
I like to think that after the angry townsfolk leavethat Joash lives a life serving the God of Israel.
But my imagination aside, a devoted baal worshiper in rebellion with God turned into God's instrument overnight.
How awesome is God's grace indeed.
It reminds me of a lyric I heard.
You can do mighty miracles, all you need is my amen
So no matter how far you are from God right now, think of Joash and how his overnight transformation saved Israel, all with the redeeming power of God's Grace.
Good doctrine must exist, if for nothing else because bad doctrine exists and must be clarified
Or something to that effect.
I've struggled for years to work on my daily devotions, to read and meditate on the word and for that 2 way communication that I see others around me have.
Even now I wonder how to go about it, but in my recent times I've noticed that revelations come when I talk about my walk to others.
I came up with a crazy idea, instead of reading the daily breads and what nots that don't work for me.
Why don't I try writing them?
Hey, if nothing else, its a few more bits of writing from me.
~~~
Gideon's Dad ~
I love the story of Gideon's walk.
How a lowly, scared young man from the smallest tribe of a defeated country is called a mighty man of valour as he works in the field.
But lets not talk about Gideon tonight.
Lets look at Judges 6: 27 - 32.
In a nutshell, Gideon obey's the word of the lord and tears down the alter of Baal, incurring the wrath of the townsfolk.
Filled with rage the angry mob descends on Gideon's house, crying out for his blood.
Gideon's dad Joash stands before the blood thirsty crowd and defends his son's actions and thereby ensuring Israel's freedom.
Did we notice that the alter that was torn down belonged to Joash?
Here was a man who had turned from God, set up an idol's alter was probably fairly large (come on, it took 11 men to take the thing down AND the townsfolk noticed immediately that it was gone.
Joash must have been a fairly devoted Baal worshiper too, given the fact that his family was a poor one and the relative size and prominence of said alter.
So, Joash the devoted Baal worshiper is suddenly standing in front of a blood thirsty crowd defending his son?
I like to think that Joash discovered that the alter had been destroyed early, and went to have that long and angry talk with Gideon.
I like to think that on hearing about Gideon's encounter with the Lord he realized the folly of his ways and repented.
I like to picture Joash saying to Gideon, I have sinned against the lord and I will go and appease the townsfolk lest they kill you. I will offer my life to atone my sin so that you my son may be used to glorify God's work and restore our family.
I like to think that after the angry townsfolk leavethat Joash lives a life serving the God of Israel.
But my imagination aside, a devoted baal worshiper in rebellion with God turned into God's instrument overnight.
How awesome is God's grace indeed.
It reminds me of a lyric I heard.
You can do mighty miracles, all you need is my amen
So no matter how far you are from God right now, think of Joash and how his overnight transformation saved Israel, all with the redeeming power of God's Grace.
Show yourself
A vague sense of irritation floats.
A trusted source who has been stunningly accurate has come to me with something out of left field.
Who the heck's heard of the spirit of war and blood?
It sounds like something from Conan or some fantasy novel.
How the heck do you even place a finger on something like that?
How do you fix something that you can't even define.
Point me at the problem lord, I'll fix it with you.
Spirit of blood and war eh?
Ok Lord, lets work on it.
whatever this is, you are mightier than it.
My God is great.
A trusted source who has been stunningly accurate has come to me with something out of left field.
Who the heck's heard of the spirit of war and blood?
It sounds like something from Conan or some fantasy novel.
How the heck do you even place a finger on something like that?
How do you fix something that you can't even define.
Point me at the problem lord, I'll fix it with you.
Spirit of blood and war eh?
Ok Lord, lets work on it.
whatever this is, you are mightier than it.
My God is great.
Monday, August 25, 2008
Mike G.
I heard the news late,
It sounded like a confusing situation, a preacher whom had inspired me before, had inspired thousands of others had been exposed as a fraud.
But to fake cancer?
How? Why?
I thought about it and decided to wait until I had heard more details from the church.
The whole truth was even sadder.
A very public example of how a duality lifestyle had woven a web of lies to conceal a festering boil of darkness.
Yet, in this light, the church stood strong.
I saw strong, kind and holy men who had done nothing wrong, humble themselves to public scrutiny. All because they had trusted one of their own, their own family.
I saw the pain in their eyes as they told they world about the fall of their friend, their brother, their son.
I hurt with them.
Yet in the darkness, in their pain, I see the church reach out to the lost, the world so twisted that they barely understood the underlying issue behind the lie of the fall.
I'll pray for them, stand with them, love the sinner and not the sin.
Stand in those shoes, are they not strangely familiar?
Have you not told a lie that got out of hand?
I'll only speak for myself.
But I dare not cast the first stone, people in broken, cracked houses should not do anything but patch things up in their own lives.
I'll pray for you Mike.
It sounded like a confusing situation, a preacher whom had inspired me before, had inspired thousands of others had been exposed as a fraud.
But to fake cancer?
How? Why?
I thought about it and decided to wait until I had heard more details from the church.
The whole truth was even sadder.
A very public example of how a duality lifestyle had woven a web of lies to conceal a festering boil of darkness.
Yet, in this light, the church stood strong.
I saw strong, kind and holy men who had done nothing wrong, humble themselves to public scrutiny. All because they had trusted one of their own, their own family.
I saw the pain in their eyes as they told they world about the fall of their friend, their brother, their son.
I hurt with them.
Yet in the darkness, in their pain, I see the church reach out to the lost, the world so twisted that they barely understood the underlying issue behind the lie of the fall.
I'll pray for them, stand with them, love the sinner and not the sin.
Stand in those shoes, are they not strangely familiar?
Have you not told a lie that got out of hand?
I'll only speak for myself.
But I dare not cast the first stone, people in broken, cracked houses should not do anything but patch things up in their own lives.
I'll pray for you Mike.
The first weekender
Suit was tired,
the current assignment was short deadline, high pressure, long hours.
In hindsight he feels sheepish given doctor girl's daily existence with 12 - 14 hr shifts.
However, it was midnight and he found himself only just walking out of the office.
The only thing keeping him going was that flight at the end of the week.
Home is where the heart is, and my heart lies 800 kms west.
He was tired, but it didn't matter.
He was going home for the weekend.
Soldier watched as the suited man made his way home.
He too remembers waiting in earnest desperation to catch a flight home.
~~~
The flight was pulling in for its final approach.
Like a school boy his heart leaps.
He stares out the window, looking at the gleaming lights of the little city below and trying to place land marks.
Home is where the heart is.
Indeed it is.
the current assignment was short deadline, high pressure, long hours.
In hindsight he feels sheepish given doctor girl's daily existence with 12 - 14 hr shifts.
However, it was midnight and he found himself only just walking out of the office.
The only thing keeping him going was that flight at the end of the week.
Home is where the heart is, and my heart lies 800 kms west.
He was tired, but it didn't matter.
He was going home for the weekend.
Soldier watched as the suited man made his way home.
He too remembers waiting in earnest desperation to catch a flight home.
~~~
The flight was pulling in for its final approach.
Like a school boy his heart leaps.
He stares out the window, looking at the gleaming lights of the little city below and trying to place land marks.
Home is where the heart is.
Indeed it is.
Tuesday, August 19, 2008
A glimpse
The poet yawned as he stretched in his deck chair.
Looking around the little house he flexes his mind.
The floors pulse in change, flitting between polished floor boards to warm cream carpets to marble tiles before settling back to the warm timber of the floor boards.
Casting his eyes around the room, the decor changes, chairs, tables, sofas all flicker in and out of existence as his mind races through the the possibilities, the choices & compromises.
The scene fades for us as our view point pulls out, revealing even the nature of the house shifting as a poet dreams, plans, builds a home.
Looking around the little house he flexes his mind.
The floors pulse in change, flitting between polished floor boards to warm cream carpets to marble tiles before settling back to the warm timber of the floor boards.
Casting his eyes around the room, the decor changes, chairs, tables, sofas all flicker in and out of existence as his mind races through the the possibilities, the choices & compromises.
The scene fades for us as our view point pulls out, revealing even the nature of the house shifting as a poet dreams, plans, builds a home.
White ribbon
Ever seen a belly dancer?
~A memory~
A smile ghosted on my lips as I was shown a beautiful white ribbon.
The dancer floated in front of me, wisping, twirling and wafting the alabaster stream.
The gaze pierces through the cloudy veil, ensnaring my senses, inviting, promising enticing.
I try to grasp the mist like cloth as it traced its erratic path, but its like the wind it eludes my touch.
My futile efforts are rewarded by the echo of a smile as the twists and turns take over.
The dance was near its end when a stray breeze catches the thin white ribbon and somehow snaps it on its edge.
Like a broken dove it tumbles to the floor as the dancer makes a final turn.
I am captivated by the beauty of it all.
So today as I walked past some shops at lunch time, this little memory found me asking the sales person behind the counter.
Excuse me, would you happen to have a white ribbon for sale?
~A memory~
A smile ghosted on my lips as I was shown a beautiful white ribbon.
The dancer floated in front of me, wisping, twirling and wafting the alabaster stream.
The gaze pierces through the cloudy veil, ensnaring my senses, inviting, promising enticing.
I try to grasp the mist like cloth as it traced its erratic path, but its like the wind it eludes my touch.
My futile efforts are rewarded by the echo of a smile as the twists and turns take over.
The dance was near its end when a stray breeze catches the thin white ribbon and somehow snaps it on its edge.
Like a broken dove it tumbles to the floor as the dancer makes a final turn.
I am captivated by the beauty of it all.
So today as I walked past some shops at lunch time, this little memory found me asking the sales person behind the counter.
Excuse me, would you happen to have a white ribbon for sale?
Powering on
I walked into my office on a Friday morning expecting just a lazy day of sitting on the bench.
Instead I was called into the senior partner's office 2 mins into my breakfast.
Kevin we need you to head down to a client's side, your team leader's project has gone south and we need you to go down and see what you can do to fix it.
Oh wow, I had only just met my team leader the day before, a tired old timer who had been doing what we did for about 27 years with IBM. If he stuffed up a project what could I possibly do?
Who's the customer I asked?
They told me ... it was one of the world's biggest consulting firms and the secondary client was a multinational.
Could I be any more out of my depth?
~~~
20 mins later I'm walking through the doors of one of those high flying offices, shaking hands and acting all consultant like.
I cool access the situation all the while sweating inside my collar. They tell me you're an expert on steering committee documentation nope, I've never even heard of a steering committee before this.
Sure, I heard myself say, I'll go dig up some situational information and I"ll get right on it.
Then I walked in to say hi to my colleagues for the next few days, or were they my staff?
3 days on and I'm finally gaining ground on the work.
I might make it through this after all...
Instead I was called into the senior partner's office 2 mins into my breakfast.
Kevin we need you to head down to a client's side, your team leader's project has gone south and we need you to go down and see what you can do to fix it.
Oh wow, I had only just met my team leader the day before, a tired old timer who had been doing what we did for about 27 years with IBM. If he stuffed up a project what could I possibly do?
Who's the customer I asked?
They told me ... it was one of the world's biggest consulting firms and the secondary client was a multinational.
Could I be any more out of my depth?
~~~
20 mins later I'm walking through the doors of one of those high flying offices, shaking hands and acting all consultant like.
I cool access the situation all the while sweating inside my collar. They tell me you're an expert on steering committee documentation nope, I've never even heard of a steering committee before this.
Sure, I heard myself say, I'll go dig up some situational information and I"ll get right on it.
Then I walked in to say hi to my colleagues for the next few days, or were they my staff?
3 days on and I'm finally gaining ground on the work.
I might make it through this after all...
Thursday, August 14, 2008
Waiting
I've been at this new job for 4 days now, just chilling out, reading procedure documents, surfing the net and attending training courses.
They call it "the bench", where staff go to rest between the hardcore projects the company runs.
So they make it nice a comfy, there's free drinks, a room running the olympics all the time and even relatively flexible hours.
It makes life seem artificially soft for now, whilst I wait for them to assign me to a project of my own.
I see tired faces drift into the office and then out again,
I hear mutters like, oh well, weekend work for Telstra again.
For me? I get into the office, have breakfast, flip open a document and read. I pick up the phone and buzz the lady in Adelaide, organize flights for her. I go for walks in the city at lunch time, enjoying the rare sun beams that grace Melbourne in winter.
I stroll out at 5ish, feeling just a little tired but unstressed.
Geez I hope this doesn't end... oh wait, I do. I hope they send me to Adelaide.
They call it "the bench", where staff go to rest between the hardcore projects the company runs.
So they make it nice a comfy, there's free drinks, a room running the olympics all the time and even relatively flexible hours.
It makes life seem artificially soft for now, whilst I wait for them to assign me to a project of my own.
I see tired faces drift into the office and then out again,
I hear mutters like, oh well, weekend work for Telstra again.
For me? I get into the office, have breakfast, flip open a document and read. I pick up the phone and buzz the lady in Adelaide, organize flights for her. I go for walks in the city at lunch time, enjoying the rare sun beams that grace Melbourne in winter.
I stroll out at 5ish, feeling just a little tired but unstressed.
Geez I hope this doesn't end... oh wait, I do. I hope they send me to Adelaide.
Tuesday, August 12, 2008
Unleashed... aka I love her
First and foremost,
Thank you Lord. For this amazing woman.
Secondly,
Have you seen her post Convergence? Its so free, so unfettered, her honest writing makes me realize that I've been restrained.
So I love her dearly.
Here we go.
~~~
I found her pretty, I found her photographer's eye captivating. I found her gypsy like dress sense interesting.
Her icy surface was so intimidating I almost silenced that little voice inside that said, tell her a story, spin her a tale
Something in her eyes when I looked up from that first tale said tell me more. That first real conversation, when I asked my bold question, that soft voice said I would like that very much.
From then on the journey seemed like I was hammering away at the walls hoping just to find that beautiful girl that spoke to me.
I knew inside I would have to serve her, that she would always treat me with a certain coldness.
The more walls I tore down, the more she unfolded and the more I fell.
She saw and understood my brokenness.
I told her about my performances for the audience of one and how they burn.
I shared of my colors and she encourage my writing.
With each new facet she showed me, my once still heart pulsed a bit more.
Men like me do not get happily ever afters.
Men like me don't get the girl.
Women like that, don't talk to men like me.
Those words began to slowly fade as hope grew.
I had always believed in love, a hopeless romantic like me could not live without believe it existed. I just told myself that it wasn't meant for me, and each day my heart grew a little colder, and my world a little darker.
She drew me out, make me believe again even as I worked to get past her walls.
Each time I was discouraged, her gaze said, don't go, please don't leave me.
In her eyes, I am capable and strong
In her eyes, I am precious and valuable.
In her eyes, I am a mighty man of God.
And when I am with her, I'm not the man that almost is, I am that man she sees, because with all her little heart she believes in me.
I have never been so vulnerable and so strong at the same time.
I love her, with all my heart I love her.
Like I have loved no other before.
I love my lemon princess and I want the world to know.
Thank you Lord. For this amazing woman.
Secondly,
Have you seen her post Convergence? Its so free, so unfettered, her honest writing makes me realize that I've been restrained.
So I love her dearly.
Here we go.
~~~
I found her pretty, I found her photographer's eye captivating. I found her gypsy like dress sense interesting.
Her icy surface was so intimidating I almost silenced that little voice inside that said, tell her a story, spin her a tale
Something in her eyes when I looked up from that first tale said tell me more. That first real conversation, when I asked my bold question, that soft voice said I would like that very much.
From then on the journey seemed like I was hammering away at the walls hoping just to find that beautiful girl that spoke to me.
I knew inside I would have to serve her, that she would always treat me with a certain coldness.
The more walls I tore down, the more she unfolded and the more I fell.
She saw and understood my brokenness.
I told her about my performances for the audience of one and how they burn.
I shared of my colors and she encourage my writing.
With each new facet she showed me, my once still heart pulsed a bit more.
Men like me do not get happily ever afters.
Men like me don't get the girl.
Women like that, don't talk to men like me.
Those words began to slowly fade as hope grew.
I had always believed in love, a hopeless romantic like me could not live without believe it existed. I just told myself that it wasn't meant for me, and each day my heart grew a little colder, and my world a little darker.
She drew me out, make me believe again even as I worked to get past her walls.
Each time I was discouraged, her gaze said, don't go, please don't leave me.
In her eyes, I am capable and strong
In her eyes, I am precious and valuable.
In her eyes, I am a mighty man of God.
And when I am with her, I'm not the man that almost is, I am that man she sees, because with all her little heart she believes in me.
I have never been so vulnerable and so strong at the same time.
I love her, with all my heart I love her.
Like I have loved no other before.
I love my lemon princess and I want the world to know.
Sunday, August 10, 2008
A new season... a new page turns
Its finally here.
I've settled back into Melbourne, into my old room, into the old house.
Everything's the same, yet everything's different.
I long to be on a 13 hr bus ride away, in another room, another world.
Why does this feel like a pause?
No matter... mutters a voice in my head callings, tasks to do, mysterious ways and paths. Has God not blessed you abundantly? Yes he has. And so I shall obey and learn to do it with a cheerful heart and as King David did.
Marathon's are won by pace, not speed.
And from the numbers clinking around in my head, perhaps sometime to save up is what is necessary.
So on monday, I begin my life as a management consultant.
The long hard yard and daily commute to the city.
Pray for me friends, its time to be strong again.
I've settled back into Melbourne, into my old room, into the old house.
Everything's the same, yet everything's different.
I long to be on a 13 hr bus ride away, in another room, another world.
Why does this feel like a pause?
No matter... mutters a voice in my head callings, tasks to do, mysterious ways and paths. Has God not blessed you abundantly? Yes he has. And so I shall obey and learn to do it with a cheerful heart and as King David did.
Marathon's are won by pace, not speed.
And from the numbers clinking around in my head, perhaps sometime to save up is what is necessary.
So on monday, I begin my life as a management consultant.
The long hard yard and daily commute to the city.
Pray for me friends, its time to be strong again.
Tuesday, August 5, 2008
New starts
Its a bustling day in the city of the empire.
The citizens are busying themselves in the winter sun,
the market is stirring with life and commerce.
The fishing boats are pulling into the docks and being unloaded.
Life is awakening in the city.
In a quiet corner of the city, a little section teems with life.
Dark deals are made and coins are exchanged, taverns crawl with characters both colorful and dark.
Every city has a corner like this for the denizens of the night.
Most operate openly, plying their trades with authority and anti-authority alike. Some operate in the shadows, in that world between darkness and compromise.
Everyone would agree, that every city NEEDS a corner like this.
The centurion eyes the section of the city, then with a sharp movement, signals the men.
The legions march at the signal, sealing the streets and isolating the thief's quarter.
The patrons and traders caught in the blockade yell in loud voices in protest to the sudden embargo on their (secretly) favorite part of town.
The centurion looks upon all this and mutters his orders.
burn it all down
then turns his back on the sounds of drawing swords as the slaughter begins...
The citizens are busying themselves in the winter sun,
the market is stirring with life and commerce.
The fishing boats are pulling into the docks and being unloaded.
Life is awakening in the city.
In a quiet corner of the city, a little section teems with life.
Dark deals are made and coins are exchanged, taverns crawl with characters both colorful and dark.
Every city has a corner like this for the denizens of the night.
Most operate openly, plying their trades with authority and anti-authority alike. Some operate in the shadows, in that world between darkness and compromise.
Everyone would agree, that every city NEEDS a corner like this.
The centurion eyes the section of the city, then with a sharp movement, signals the men.
The legions march at the signal, sealing the streets and isolating the thief's quarter.
The patrons and traders caught in the blockade yell in loud voices in protest to the sudden embargo on their (secretly) favorite part of town.
The centurion looks upon all this and mutters his orders.
burn it all down
then turns his back on the sounds of drawing swords as the slaughter begins...
Saturday, August 2, 2008
Fall'in
It has been an amazing journey, and the road ahead leads to paths and places even more fantastic and wonderful.
In this last season I have been drawn near and pushed away, encouraged and torn down, appreciated and taken for granted.
I have grown closer to God and learned that indeed nothing is impossible for him.
It has been a tough fight on both sides of the fence, but I'm glad and proud to say that we've broken through.
So dear readers, with much pride, joy and all kinds of warm fuzziness I introduce you to my beloved partner Lady Lemon.
In this last season I have been drawn near and pushed away, encouraged and torn down, appreciated and taken for granted.
I have grown closer to God and learned that indeed nothing is impossible for him.
It has been a tough fight on both sides of the fence, but I'm glad and proud to say that we've broken through.
So dear readers, with much pride, joy and all kinds of warm fuzziness I introduce you to my beloved partner Lady Lemon.
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