Galatians 2:20a
I am crucified with Christ: nevertheless I live; yet not i, but Christ liveth in me:
My Life Verse

Ephesians 6:6

Not with eyeservice, as men pleasers; but as the servants of Christ, doing the will of God from the heart;

Sunday, August 17, 2008

Frankie Muniz


The Twins looked just like this...
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Kailyn, Me, and Eeyore



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blabbin'

Hey! (don't have a clue whom i am heying cause NO one reads this...at least ppl i know that aren't just random ppl browsing through blogs...so hey random ppl!)

Here are a few more pics of recent happenings. The two on the mechanical bull are me and Kailyn at Jr. Camp last week...Kay drank a 7up on it and got us tons of points...i rode for the fun of it. Thanks to our photographer Bro. Paul Stewart. :)

This past week was vacation in West Va. and we had tons of fun! We being Mom, Dad, Rebecca, Papa Craig, Uncle Ray, Aunt Lou, Jim, Debbie, Chelsea, Nana, Papa, Daniel, Brooke, Faithy, and ME!! Papa Craig took Mom, Bec, and ME on several adventures! Tuesday we went to a rafting company called NARR...North American River Rafting. We thought we test it out on the upper river which is a kindergarten level. We didn't actually go in rafts but we went in these little blow up canoe like things called Duckies! hehe duckies..:) Basically it's just you in your lil vessel and you have a double sided paddle and you sit on your duckie in a piked position and you go down the river. Besides the terrible sunburn i got on my legs from that lovely piked position it was a BLAST!! We left at 9am and got back at 4pm...
Wednesday Papa Craig took us horseback riding! FUN!!! It was a 2 and 1/2 hour trail ride! My horse really like to eat! If we even slowed down...well...even if we didn't...he, Prince, was grabbin at a snack (the trees).
Thursday was the big day we went BACK to the river! This time we went with a rafting company called Class VI. You rate rapids by their class and the highest is a class 5 so they are called class 6. This was your actual RAFTING!!! SCARY!!!!! Naw it wasn't that bad...no one from our raft fell out (at least one person from everyone elses did but no biggy right?) and we survived.uMajor detail....there were two guys in our group...twins i might add and they looked just like Frankie Muniz!!! But cuter...and taller...anyways sadly enough they were not in our raft:(
All in all this was an awesome trip and i can't wait to get home and see all my friends! and my own bed...and..well you get the point.

laters...
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I Have Been Blessed!!!!


THE ROOM

In that place between wakefulness and dreams, I found myself in the room.
There were no distinguishing features except for the one wall covered with small index card files. They were like the ones in libraries that list titles by author or subject in alphabetical order. But these files, which stretched from floor to ceiling and seemingly endless in either direction, had very different headings. As I drew near the wall of files, the first to
catch my attention was one that read "Girls I have liked." I opened it and began flipping through the cards. I quickly shut it, shocked to realize that I recognized the names written on each one. And then without being told, I knew exactly where I was.

This lifeless room with its small files was a crude catalog system for my life. Here were written the actions of my every moment, big and small, in a detail my memory couldn't match. A sense of wonder and curiosity, coupled with horror, stirred within me as I began randomly opening files and exploring their content. Some brought joy and sweet memories; others a sense of shame and regret so intense that I would look over my shoulder to see if anyone was watching.

A file named "Friends" was next to one marked "Friends I have betrayed." The titles ranged from the mundane to the outright weird "Books I Have Read," "Lies I Have Told," "Comfort I have Given," "Jokes I Have Laughed at." Some
were almost hilarious in their exactness: "Things I've yelled at my brothers." Others I couldn't laugh at: "Things I Have Done in My Anger", "Things I Have Muttered Under My Breath at My Parents." I never ceased to be surprised by the contents.

Often there were many more cards than I expected. Sometimes fewer than I hoped. I was overwhelmed by the sheer volume of the life I had lived. Could it be possible that I had the time in my years to fill each of these thousands or even millions of cards? But each card confirmed this truth.
Each was written in my own handwriting. Each signed with my signature.

When I pulled out the file marked "TV Shows I have watched", I realized the files grew to contain their contents. The cards were packed tightly, and yet after two or three yards, I hadn't found the end of the file. I shut it, shamed, not so much by the quality of shows but more by the vast time I knew that file represented.

When I came to a file marked "Lustful Thoughts," I felt a chill run through my body. I pulled the file out only an inch, not willing to test its size and drew out a card. I shuddered at its detailed content.

I felt sick to think that such a moment had been recorded. An almost animal rage broke on me. One thought dominated my mind: No one must ever see these cards! No one must ever see this room! I have to destroy them!" In insane frenzy I yanked the file out. Its size didn't matter now. I had to empty it
and burn the cards. But as I took it at one end and began pounding it on the floor, I could not dislodge a single card. I became desperate and pulled out a card, only to find it as strong as steel when I tried to tear it.

Defeated and utterly helpless, I returned the file to its slot. Leaning my forehead against the wall, I let out a long, self-pitying sigh.

And then I saw it. The title bore "People I Have Shared the Gospel With." The handle was brighter than those around it, newer, almost unused. I pulled on its handle and a small box not more than three inches long fell into my hands. I could count the cards it contained on one hand.

And then the tears came. I began to weep. Sobs so deep that they hurt. They started in my stomach and shook through me. I fell on my knees and cried. I cried out of shame, from the overwhelming shame of it all. The rows of file shelves swirled in my tear-filled eyes. No one must ever, ever know of this
room. I must lock it up and hide the key. But then as I pushed away the tears, I saw Him.

No, please not Him. Not here. Oh, anyone but Jesus. I watched helplessly as He began to open the files and read the cards. I couldn't bear to watch His response. And in the moments I could bring myself to look at His face, I saw
a sorrow deeper than my own.

He seemed to intuitively go to the worst boxes. Why did He have to read every one? Finally He turned and looked at me from across the room. He looked at me with pity in His eyes. But this was a pity that didn't anger me. I dropped my head, covered my face with my hands and began to cry again.
He walked over and put His arm around me. He could have said so many things. But He didn't say a word. He just cried with me.

Then He got up and walked back to the wall of files. Starting at one end of the room, He took out a file and, one by one, began to sign His name over mine on each card. "No!" I shouted rushing to Him. All I could find to say was "No, no," as I pulled the card from Him. His name shouldn't be on these cards. But there it was, written in red so rich, so dark, so alive. The name
of Jesus covered mine. It was written with His blood. He gently took the card back. He smiled a sad smile and began to sign the cards. I don't think I'll ever understand how He did it so quickly, but the next instant it seemed I heard Him close the last file and walk back to my side.

He placed His hand on my shoulder and said, "It is finished." I stood up, and He led me out of the room. There was no lock on its door. There were still cards to be written.
- Brian Moore