First Impressions

Unfortunately, this isn't as clever as Pride and Prejudice. I don't think it's the greatest title, but it was the first thing I thought of and I hate posting something and not having a title accompany it. So it stays till I come up with a better one. This probably needs some work, but here are the beginnings and hopefully I'll find some time to continue it. Enjoy!

The wheels on the carriage rolled over the cobblestone drive with a clatter. I had been jolted around in the carriage for the past three hours and my destination lay just ahead. My limbs were cramped from being held in one position for so long and I longed for the chance to get out and stretch. The carriage slowed down and the main house loomed into view. The red bricks were stacked and cemented with absolute precision and the builders made perfect squares for the glass window panes to be placed. Both of the front doors stood wide open and a slight woman, dressed in what appeared to me to be servant's garb, came out balancing a large basket of laundry on her hip. The shrubbery circled around the house and flowers were planted along the walk and stood ready to greet one with a cheerful face.
I pressed my back against the carriage's seat, intimidated by the size and precision of everything. I had come expecting a small little plantation, much like the ones I'm accustomed to seeing at home. Instead I found a large estate--something I only dreamt about. Here was a home with more than one garden, multitudes of butlers and maids, it's own stable and wash house. What stood before me replaced paintings and stories with the real thing.
The carriage door opened and the butler's hand appeared, "Miss?"

Thoughts for Thursday

"It is a terrible thing that the worst of all the vices can smuggle itself into the very centre of our religious life...The devil laughs. He is perfectly content to see you becoming chaste and brave and self controlled provided, all the time, he is setting you up in the Dictatorship of Pride...For pride is spiritual cancer: it eats up the very possibility of love, or contentment, or even common sense."


~CS Lewis, Mere Christianity

Thoughts for Thursday

"The hero does not set out to be one. He is probably more surprised than others by such recognition. He was there when the crisis occurred...and he responded as he always had in any situation. He was simply doing what had to be done! Faithful where he was in his duty there...he was ready when the crisis arose. Being where he was supposed to be...doing what the was supposed to do...responding as was his custom...to circumstances as they developed...devoted to duty--he did the heroic!"

~Richard C. Halverson

The Lamplighter

His weather beaten face bent down to his chest, avoiding the biting wind that blew through the air.
The flickering orange flame encased in the iron cylinder dangling in his hand provided hardly any warmth as he trudged down the streets he traveled for as long as he could remember.
A few villagers not yet in their homes bustled down the street, their dark cloaks billowing out behind them.
He lit the end of the long iron pole he held in his right hand and lifted it to the lamp secured on a black pole above his head. He waited patiently till the wick caught the flame and burned brightly. He lowered the pole and leaned his face close to it, catching a flicker of warmth before blowing it out again.
That face had seen it all: life and death, riches and poverty, war and peace, love and hatred. Each care and sorrow drew another line across the man's face.
Each night as darkness sealed the town he came out and walked down the streets, job in hand.
That lantern and pole lit the way for many men and boys hurrying home, closing shops, finishing another day's work as an apprentice.
The aged man was a known sight, most people hardly gave him a glance, but without him the streets would be dark and the way would be lost.
The pole was lifted to the sky again, brightening a portion of it before the insides of the lantern burst with light and the small flame was lowered and snuffed out.
He moved slowly down the cobblestone street, wet with a light drizzle that was falling from the sky, lessening the sting of the sharp November wind. He stopped under one of corner lanterns and raised the pole in time for the sting of the wind to blow it out. Patiently, he re-lit it and sent the corner flooding with light.
His frame bent from eighty years of life un-locked the door to his empty house. He tucked away the pole and set the lantern on the table where they would rest till the sun peeked over the roof tops and it was time to turn the lamps out.

Thoughts for Thursday

"Think how boring life would be if everything always went the way we planned it. Believe me, I've learned that sometimes the best answers to prayer are the ones God doesn't answer...Think about how often we change our minds. If God gave us everything we asked for, we'd be in chaos."

~Robin Jones Gunn, Surprise Endings

His Workmanship

For we are his workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand, that we should walk in them.

Ephesians 2:10

His workmanship, a new creation, peculiar treasures; the Bible is full of different terms to describe God's people. My personal favorite is "his workmanship" because it is yet another reminder that we are made just the right way, even if we don't think so.

Just like a piece of artwork hanging in a museum, not every person who looks at it will see the same thing, some may not like it at all, some might like parts of it, others say that they would do somethings differently, and still others say it's not art. All but the artist that is, to him it's perfect and finished.

We were created by God, He made us the way we are on purpose. The things we wish we didn't have or didn't have to worry about may be irritating now, but later we'll realize why they're there. My favorite example of this is Amy Carmichael. When she was little she wanted to have blue eyes like her mother's instead of her brown ones. Each night she prayed to have blue eyes but on waking up every morning they were still brown. Then when she became a missionary to India and stained her skin with coffee to blend in with the nativities, her brown eyes came in handy.

God knew and made all the situations we are in and the insecurities that we feel a gazillion years ago. If He knew thousand years ago what would happen to us and the results of that situation shouldn't we be willing to let Him take care of everything?

We are like that painting I mentioned earlier: hanging in God's museum, the World, surrounded with more of His masterpiece, all bearing the signature "God."

Thoughts for Thursday

"Ever and always the teacher, Jesus used even this struggle with the enemy in the garden the night before the cross to teach the disciples and every future believer another lesson in godliness, a lesson about facing temptation and severe trial. The Lord not only was preparing Himself for the cross but also, by His example, preparing His followers for the crosses He calls them to bear in His name."

~John MacArthur, The MacArthur New Testament Commentary