Real Christmas

Have you ever thought about what the Christmas story would have sounded like if it had happened in our lifetime? Last night while sitting through the Christmas Eve service at our church, I couldn't help but think of what everything would have looked like had Jesus been born here.

Allow me to paint you a picture...

It's December 24, and it's raining. A young man with his extremely pregnant wife slowly pull into a gas station in their ancient Honda with 30 million miles on it. As the husband turns off the car, it rattles and sighs. He turns to his wife who looks exhausted and tells her that he will be right back.

He climbs out of the car and swings the door shut quietly. He puts one of their last 5 dollar bills into the tank then slowly sinks back into the car.

They are on their way to Stockton. They know no one and have no reservations. Hoping that he can find a place for them to stay, Joseph begins to drive again through the rain. As he drives he thinks about how he will begin to pay for his new son that is expected to be born very soon. His wife has fallen asleep, and leaning over her gently brushed the hair off her flushed face.

Pulling into Stockton a few minutes before midnight, Joseph scans the sides of the road for a place to stay. He spots a Motel 8 and pulls into the parking lot. He jogs up to the information desk only to find out that they have no rooms open. Joseph climbed back into the car only to hear his wife Mary urgently whispering his name.

"Joseph, the baby is coming; I need to find a place to lay down."

Pulling out of the parking lot, Joseph drives desperately looking for somewhere to stay. He sees a vacancy sign and quickly pulls into the dark parking lot. The motel is small and rundown looking, but it was dry inside as Joseph carried the panting Mary into their closet sized room. The rain continues to pound against the window while Mary progresses further into labor. In the wee hours of the morning after several hours of hard work, the frail first cry of a newborn baby pierces the stillness.

Joseph proudly hands the son to his mother and goes to wash his hands. He is standing in the doorway of the bathroom when he hears a knock on their door. Opening it, he sees two homeless men, soaked to the bone, obviously wanting something.

"Can I help you?" Joseph asked.

"We heard through some angels that the Christ was to be born tonight in Stockton, and so we came to find Him to worship Him."

Joseph eyed the men carefully and stepped back to let them into the small room. As soon as the men saw the infant, they dropped to their knees and bowed low before Him.

After hours of talking to Mary and Joseph, the homeless guys stood up, still overcome by wonder, and hurried out into the street telling everyone they came in contact with what had happened.

In the morning Joseph payed the woman at the desk and carried Mary out to their car. Their house was only a few hours away. The car crawled along over the hills. When they reached the house, Joseph ran inside to prepare a warm spot in their bed for Mary and the baby.

Joseph had to find a job in the area as a carpenter to fund his new family. For the next two years he worked, and no one ever knew about the child. One day while he was working in his wood shop, Joseph looked up and found himself standing face to face with the president of the United States.
Dropping his hammer, he greeted the president.

"What can I do for you Sir?"

"I have come to see the King. Would you please take me to Him?"

Joseph led the president into the house where His mother was helping Him wash His hands. The boy was handsome and ruddy, tall for his age and had a distinctive twinkle in His eyes.

The president walked forward toward the small boy until he was very close. Then he knelt down and worshiped Him. If Joseph had thought he had seen it all, now he knew it.

Could you imagine something similar to this happening? Can you put yourself into the place of Mary or Joseph and try to think the thoughts that must have been running through their minds? Nothing about the story was clean or well-planned except by God of course. Only He knows the full plan.


Only God knows the full plan for your life. Wouldn't it be beneficial to trust Him with it and not worry about the future? He has a plan.

I Take After My Father

Every time I am introduced to someone new I get the same response...

"You look just like you mother!"

People always say that as if I should look just like Laura Bush or something. I don't really mind since Mommy G is beautiful, and I definitely take what they say as a compliment.

But I don't just want to take after her in looks. I want to become a godly woman who loves and serves her husband and children with everything she has. I want to be known as a woman who is willing to get her hands dirty for the Lord. I want the light of Jesus to be seen through everything I do and say just like Mommy G does.

If I could get a tiny fraction of the God-given wisdom that Mommy G has, I would be wiser than I could ever hope to be.

But I don't just imitate my earthly mother and father. I also want to take after my Heavenly Father. If I could get just a tiny fraction of His wisdom, then I would be set for life.

I want to be mistaken for Jesus.

http://youtube.com/watch?v=-L0jRJD_u1Y&feature=related

I want to be mistaken for Jesus.

Christmas is Just Around the Corner!

Everyone including me is rushing around trying to make everything the way the whole family expects it to be. We cook like crazy to make enough food to feed ourselves, and we normally have enough left over to feed the next door neighbors. We pull out every decoration that we own and spend countless hours trying to figure out where to plug them all in. Because the family is coming to our house, we clean and clean until everything is slick enough to ice skate on.

Not to mention all the effort we put into writing the Christmas cards every year or the time it takes to get everyone looking nice enough at the same time to take a Christmas photo. Or we could talk about all the time that we spend, not always on the people we love and want to appreciate, but on tyring to make everything "perfect."

I recently heard a wonderful woman named Cathie Lip speak at my church. She said she had a very wise friend who really didn't find any joy in cooking a huge meal for her family every year, but she did because she assumed that that was what everyone wanted. This friend had a brilliant idea one year, and she decided to ask her kids to each pick one food item for her to make on Christmas Day. She asked each one and the only thing that anyone said was crescent rolls.

"You mean the ones that come in a can?" she asked.

"Yeah, those mommy."

"What about the gingerbread houses? Don't you want to have them?"

"No, we don't like the gingerbread houses. We want the crescent rolls."

This year they're having KFC and crescent rolls for Christmas.

All of this to say, I think we all tend to take Christmas to the max. Baking, decorating, cooking, cleaning and shopping are all fun things, but we put a lot of unnecessary pressure on ourselves to do things that really have no special meaning to anyone; they're just tradition.

After Mommy G heard Cathie speak, she sat everyone down at our kitchen table and asked what we would keep in our Christmas. Things like a real tree and pie for breakfast on Christmas morning were said, but the thing that most of us agreed on was the fact that we wanted to have a relaxed Christmas morning to ourselves.

So that's what we are doing, although it will have to be cut a little short this year since we are eating dinner early because my uncle has to work. I think the cutting out "unnecessaries" was a good idea, and it helps us to slow down a bit and remember the real meaning behind all the festivities and celebrations.

Christ was born!

Luke 2:11 "Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you; he is Christ the Lord."

Going Green

Christmas is coming so we decided to hold off on the dark blue dots and try to add some "festiveness" to ETST by going green. And that's not green in the materials used or energy efficency sense, but the color. Just in case you were wondering...

A Change...

Thought we needed to change to look of ETST to show how happy we are about the sun! Don't worry, we'll go back to the dark blue in a while...

:)

It's Sunny Out!

This morning I didn't have to go to school so I got the unusual chance to sleep in. When I normally leave for school in the morning, it's still fairly dark out. And over the last week or two it has been cloudy and overcast.

I got up and there was sun! Glorious sun! I felt like the whole world had pressed a restart button and now we could enjoy a cold version of summer. Just looking out the window makes me happy.

Go out and enjoy the sun!

Sorry...For Everything...

Everyone,

Oh, and please forgive us for taking such a long and unannounced break from posting. Our lives, like everyone else's, have been absolutely crazy... Can't wait for Christmas break!

Sincerely,
The Authors

P.S. We are really sorry....Really. Really really. We promise...

Worth the Risk

Friendships are tricky things. And the older I get the more I realize that I am overwhelmed by the thought of people actually thinking of me as a friend.

In Kindergarten our friends were the little kids that shared their cookies with us or played tag with us at the park. But because we were little, we tended to get offended easily, and if the "friend" was seen doing the same things to someone else, they would get an ear full. The funny thing about kids though is that they forgive and forget very quickly. We could be furious one minute and then running and laughing with each other the next.

When we got into middle school and Jr. high, our friends are the ones who are the people most like us. We aren't comfortable in our own skin so we surrounded ourselves with people who let us feel comfortable.

When entering high school, we started to "find ourselves" and since we were more comfortable being who we were, we could reach out to other people our age who weren't necessarily the same as us.

I don't think anyone really starts to understand what true friendship is, though, until late high school and college. Up until this point we have slowly been integrating ourselves into the world and everything evil that comes along with that. We may have had a few trials, but all of the sudden friends become very important.

Friends seem to draw together and lean on one another trusting each other more and more. But with these closer relationships comes a great risk. The risk of being hurt or abandoned later on down the road.

We can't expect to become good friends if we are always extremely careful to not do anything. We can't become close without exposing who we are. When we become good friends with other people, we risk being hurt and disappointed. Being careful reminds me of a children's story where two friends hurt each other. One friend uses the other one to get a china tea set. And then the hurt friend tricks her friend back to get revenge. In the end they go and try to fix everything. The hurt friend says that it is no fun to be friends when you have to be careful because that's not really being friends - that's being careful.

So is being friends worth the risk? Should we put ourselves into a place of exposure and openness where we could possibly experience hurt and disappointment? I would say yes. And when we pick friends who genuinely care about us, we can be assured that the hurt that happens is not intentional. And when hurt does happen, we can forgive and forget and move on.

Friends are worth the risk.

Ecclesiasties 4: 9-12 "Two are better than one, because they have a good return for their work: If one falls down, his friend can help him up. But pity the man who falls and has no one to help him up! Also, if two lie down together, they will keep warm. But how can one keep warm alone? Though one may be overpowered, two can defend themselves. A cord of three strands is not quickly broken."

Happy Thanksgetting...

I don't think that Thanksgiving has truly survived in many homes around the United States. Instead of being thankful and grateful for the boundless blessings of our daily lives, we tend to only focus on what we can get out of the holiday.

The original purpose of having a Thanksgiving dinner was to remember how little the Pilgrims had when they first made the long voyage to the New World. Starving to death was not uncommon so the Pilgrims really were thankful to God for His provision.

The holiday should serve as a reminder in many ways not unlike communion. Although we should always count our blessings and praise the Lord for them, Thanksgiving provides a special time to stop and reflect on how much we really do have.

So while you are stuffing yourselves with all the delicious goodies at your houses, remember to thank Him. In the song Blessed be Your Name one of the verses goes like this:

Every blessing You pour out I'll turn back to praise

Turn back to praise Him. Happy Thanksgiving!

1 Chronicles 16:8 "Give thanks to the LORD, call on his name; make known among the nations what he has done."
1 Chronicles 16:34 "Give thanks to the LORD, for he is good; his love endures forever."

"We Need a Movie to go With the Shakes..."

Well, it seems that I cannot post a wonderful video on here that I wanted to show you all for Movie and Shake Night, but you can still go and watch it here http://youtube.com/watch?v=9_M0H5nrY8E

I would suggest that if you have a tender heart, get emotional easily or certain things can touch you in a way you don't think is possible, bring a box of kleenex with you to the computer. The first time (not to mention the second, third and forth times) I watched this clip, I bawled my eyes out. Yes, some of you may find that hard to believe, but hey I was touched. ;-)

Anyway, I hope that everyone falls in love with Jesus again after watching this video.

The thing I liked best about it (warning-if you haven't already watched the clip, please do so before continuing. Plot ruiner ahead) was that it showed us trying our very best to get to God, but no matter how hard we try, we could never even come close to reaching Him. He closed the gap and took our place because He knew in the end that He would win.

Word of the Week # 14

myrmidon \MUR-muh-don; -duhn\, noun:

1. (Capitalized) A member of a warlike Thessalian people who followed Achilles on the expedition against Troy.

2. A loyal follower, especially one who executes orders without question, protest, or pity.

"He risked assassination, torture or . . . retaliation, the defining signatures of Mr. Milosevic and his ultranationalist myrmidons."
-- Bruce Fein, "Follow U.S. war crimes advice?", Washington Times, May 10, 2001

"Those who created EMU [(European) Economic and Monetary Union] -- mainly politicians and their myrmidons in the offices and conference rooms of Brussels -- portray a beckoning landscape of wealth, liberty and economic power that will rival the United States and surpass Asia."
-- James O. Jackson, "The One-Way Bridge", Time, May 11, 1998

Myrmidon derives from Greek Myrmidones, a warlike people of ancient Thessaly

FRIDAY!!!!!

Fridays...I love them. I really do. Nothing can compare to the awesome feeling that another week is almost over and the "restful" weekend is well on it's way.

Fridays have always had some kind of special feeling. When I was little, my family started a Friday tradition of Movie and Shake Night. We would rent a family movie and afterwards, my dad would make us all chocolate milk shakes. A tradition that my grandpa started back before I was born.

When my family moved to Chico, my dad had every other Friday off of work. He would stay at home and often times pull out the beloved hot wheel racing track, print up a set of racing brackets and then promptly beat every one of my fastest cars.

Fridays are still Movie and Shake Night, but the tradition has become so much more than just a fun evening; it's turned into the one night a week where everything is pushed aside and family takes center stage.

So, needless to say, if you ask me to do something else on Friday night, you will probably get a no. Maybe, unless you'll let me bring everyone along.

Wacky Web-Pic Wednesday #13

Freakish tomatoes...That's all I've got to say about that. No, seriously, I don't know if I could bring myself to eat anything that had a point like that on it. Do you think you could?


Tell us what you think by voting in the new poll: Could you eat a deformed piece of food?

Enlarged To Show Texture

We thought it would be a good idea to show everyone the cereals they unthinkingly eat and give you a close up shot of the toasted goodness.

To start, we have the classic Cheerio. Baked to perfection right by us in the General Mills plant. Now made with whole grains, it is clinically proven to reduce cholesterol, and with only 1 gram of sugar it is a healthy alternative to most sugary cereals.

Next we have the Chex original. These little babies are perfect for making "muddie buddies" and chex mix. Also made with whole grains, they are the perfect as a light snack in between meals.

Frosted Mini Wheats are a digestive-healthy choice since each serving contains almost 25% of your daily fiber needs. And with only 1 gram of fat, how can you go wrong if you eat them in the morning. The commercial even suggests you take them to school or work with you.

Kashi. Another healthy alternative to Cheerios. Although a little bit tough and chewy, Kashi is wonderful for your heart since it promotes low blood pressure and wide-open arteries. A cheaper version of Kashi can be purchased at your local recyclers plant. Just ask for the sticks, twigs, and cardboard section.

I didn't include the Cocoa Pops or the Lucky Charms because they aren't considered "healthy" by most all cereal consumers. But that doesn't mean that we don't eat them. Seriously though, how can you choose bits of bark I mean Kashi over sweet chocolate puffiness for breakfast. Now that's a reason to get up in the morning!

Word of the Week #13

abscond \ab-SKOND\, intransitive verb:
1. To depart secretly; to steal away and hide oneself -- used especially of persons who withdraw to avoid arrest or prosecution.


"The criminal is not concerned with influencing or affecting public opinion: he simply wants to abscond with his money or accomplish his mercenary task in the quickest and easiest way possible so that he may reap his reward and enjoy the fruits of his labours."
-- Bruce Hoffman, Inside Terrorism

"Pearl, now an orphan (her father having absconded shortly after her conception), has been taken to live with her great-aunt Margaret in the north of England"
-- Zoe Heller, Everything You Know

Abscond comes from Latin abscondere, "to conceal," from ab-, abs-, "away" + condere, "to put, to place."

Helmets

I don't like to wear helmets. i think that I must be related to my mother since she will do almost anything to avoid wearing a helmet.

It's not that they're not really uncomfortable or anything, it's just that they cause a major inconvenience to most women and some men: helmet hair.

You've all seen or experienced this type of hairstyle at one time or another, and I have too. Of course when I was a kid, I always wore my helmet no matter what. Right before my 18th birthday, I went for a bike ride without a helmet and everything went very well.

Well the other day I was pining for something to do, something that was active and would get me outside into the beautiful fall weather. My brilliant thought was to take our family dog and teach him how to trot alongside a bike.

The first two days want swimmingly. After a ten minute warm up in the court, Cocoa did wonderfully staying with the bike. This is going to be awesome, I thought.

After coming home the second day, my dad pulled me aside and told me that I needed to be careful, very careful.

"Make sure to wear a helmet," he cautioned.

The next day I decided to go out for a little ride. I leashed up Cocoa and mounted my bike. We gently rolled down the driveway and into the street. Everything was going well, that is, until we got to the street across from ours.

As soon as Cocoa saw the straight stretch of road with nothing to stop him, he took off running. Unfortunately, he didn't run in a straight line. Curving right in front of me, he made a sharp turn into the bike.

The next thing I remember, I was laying on the ground calling Cocoa back over to me and my body was shaking terribly.

As I limped back to my house a block away, I remembered that thing that my dad had said about wearing a helmet and realized I wasn't wearing one.

So if you see me in the next few days, I still have a pretty little shiner over my eye. And my advice about bike riding is this: WEAR A HELMET!!!

If You Knew What I Know...

Thanks goodness that Halloween is over! It's my least favorite holiday, and if you ask me, we could just get rid of it all together.

Sure, I like pumpkins and candy, but the true essence of the Halloween traditions has largely been forgotten by many. If you knew what I know about Halloween, you might think about it differently.

You see, the celebration of Halloween dates back over 2000 years. In this dark time, the night before All Saints Day was called All Hallows Eve. The spirits of the dead people and children supposedly come back to earth during that time and roam the streets.

As if spirits weren't enough, the demons and goblins are also thought to become active during this time. The pumpkins were carved, lit and placed outside of one's door to protect the family inside from unwanted spirits. The candy was an offering to the dead that hopefully would appease their appetites.

Although my family and I have never celebrated Halloween, I wasn't told why we didn't until the 5th Grade. After hearing the "real story," my opinion about the holiday changed from that of disgust to that of nausea.

This post was not meant to in any way slam people who celebrate Halloween, but I felt like I needed to let people know what they are standing for.

Wacky Web Pic Wednesday # 12

What is this world coming to? Boy, no one's wasting any time with this poor kid. By three he'll probably speak two lanuages. By seven he will have passed Calculus with the highest grade in his class. And by eleven and 1/2 he will have graduated from Delta and transfering to Biola University.


Ugg. These kinds of kids make me sick...

Typing While Sleeping

I fell asleep the night before last. Nothing out of the ordinary about that. I normally go to sleep around 11:30 because I stay awake late chatting with people online, writing stuff or doing homework.

Well, two nights ago I went into my room and got ready for bed just like I always do. And then I fell asleep while typing. Sorry to all of you readers who faithfully logged on to ETST to read it. There was no post for you, and I beg your forgiveness. Like my dad says keep short accounts!


There will be a post tomorrow, I promise!

PLEASE forgive me for not posting! I am super sorry! I feel much better now, as I always do.

Must...Sleep...In...

Since school started, I have been getting up earlier than I ever have throughout my entire life. Although I was never allowed to sleep in during the school week while being homeschooled, I always had a sufficient amount of sleep.

All that changed when I started going to Delta. Currently I'm not getting more than 6 hours of sleep a night which is really cutting back from what I got previously. Mommy G has commented almost everyday that I look extremely tired and should take a nap. (Thanks mom) And even though I wish I could sleep more, it just isn't possible at this point in time.

Last Friday I had the opportunity to sleep in way past the normal time of awakening.

Great, I thought, finally a chance to catch up on some much needed slumber. At least that's what I thought.

On Friday morning I rolled over and glanced at the screen of my bedside clock. It read 6:03. What?! That can't be right! Rolling the other way, I looked at the clock on my computer: 6:03.

Now wide awake, I lay in bed and stared intently at the ceiling. I have never had any trouble sleeping in past 9:30 before. Weird. So I snuggled down under the blankets a little farther and went back to Nigh Night Land.

My eyes popped open and I glanced at the clock. 6:37! Alright, I thought. Enough is enough! Highly perturbed, I snuggled even farther down into the sheets and grumbled to myself. Again, I fell asleep.

The sunlight was doing its best to shine through my shades and tell me it was morning. But after two "false alarms," I didn't ever want to look at the clock again. Well, I thought, I guess that eventually I'll have to look at the clock so it might as well be now. I peaked out from under my cave-like structure I had unknowingly made out of the blankets to see the time. 7:42. How exasperating!

After another hour of off and on slumber, I got up. So at around 8:45 I sat down at my computer and stared at the screen, terribly upset. Why couldn't I just sleep in until I was ready to get going?

Then it dawned on me; I was waking up because I felt like I was "wasting" my precious hours on sleep when I could be doing something productive. My mind and body were ready to get to work whereas I didn't think I was.

I woke up farther immersed in the world of grown-ups than when I had gone to sleep. Not sleeping because you're concerned about school, work you name it always struck me as something that happened to you when you got old! Kind of scary, kind of freaky, but also kind of new and kind of exciting. But however new and exciting, I will be sleeping in tomorrow morning. Zzzzzzzzzzzz......

Note that the above picture is of Sleeping Beauty and not of me. Unfortunately, my hair doesn't look like that after sleeping.

Please don't eat the glue

I have many friends. I go to classes with some, and I see others on Sunday at church. But there is a whole circle of my friends that I see once a week, and don't go to school with. These friends are roughly 42 inches tall and always have a lot of energy. These are my AWANA friends. They are all three or four yearolds.

You see, I work in a children's ministry called AWANA (it is NOT AWANAS as many people, who are confused, call it). AWANA stands for Approved Workmen Are Not Ashamed. When I was a child, I can remember back to when I went to AWANA. It was a highlight of the week. In AWANA children play games, memorize Bible verses, and learn about God. It is a wonderful program. So when I was too old to be in it, I decided to help in it.

This kind of service is truly rewarding. If you don't get along with kids that well, than this kind of service may not be the right one for you.

Kids are funny. They say what they are thinking. They act upon impulse. They can be very entertaining. Now I would like to tell you one of my multiple stories and experiences.

My first year working in Cubbies (the age group I help in) was so exciting. The Directors were low on helpers in that age group so I was quickly assigned to a table. My table had about six or seven kids. I was in charge of listening to their verses, writing their names on the top of their coloring pages, and overall maintaining the peace. It seemed easy enough.......

"So what is your name?" I asked a quiet little boy sitting at my table.

"rraaAAAAAAnnnnntonieeeeee" *through almost closed lips and a tightly clenched jaw*

"I'm sorry, what did you say your name was?"

"RRRRAAAAAAANNNNNNNTTTHHHONIIEEEEE"

"What?"

"RRRRAAAAAAANNNNNNNTTTHHHONIIEEEEE"

I must tell you honestly, I had no clue what the, now agitated, kid's name was.

I looked on his name tag and it spelled ANTHONY.

OH, of course!!! It made sense now.

After that we became friends. I think he was happier when I called him by his name. It is a wonderful experience working with little kids. Within a couple weeks you have a strong bond. Two years later he graduated into Kindergarten. I don't see him very much anymore. I only hope I demonstrated God's unfailing love to this little boy.

Wacky Web-Pic Wednesday #11

Wacky Web-Pic Day has rolled (literally) around again and it's time to share with you a strange/freaky/odd/unusual picture from our friend the Internet.


This is an egg. But it isn't just an egg, it's a chocolate egg. Notice that the thing next to the egg is not an action figure: it's a man. Crazy!


I know what I want for Christmas! But seriously, who could ever eat that much chocolate before it went bad? I think I could come close.

I'm Being Ogled!!!

This post was written after multiple incidents that happened in the same week. Here is an example of one incidence.

My Delta class schedule goes something like this:

Monday-Spanish 001 at 9:00, Finite Math at 11:00 and Human Biology from 5:00-8:00 PM.

Tuesday-Interior Design 002 at 8:30 AM

Wednesday-Spanish 001 at 9:00, Finite Math at 11:00 and Human Bio from 5:00-8:00

Thursday-Interior Design 002 at 8:30 AM

Friday-Spanish 001 at 9:00 and Finite Math at 11:00

Needless to say, I do a lot of walking back and forth to buildings on campus. Every Monday, Wednesday and Friday I have a male friend who walks with me to our classes, but on Tuesdays and Thursdays I'm on my own.

While strolling under the beautiful autumn colors one morning, I happened to glance over at a few young guys standing along the pathway. As I passed by them, they smiled and talked strangely amongst themselves while continuing to watch me walk by.

I hurried to my car, quickly got in and paused a moment to think about what had just happened.

I was being ogled! For Pete's sake! Couldn't I just walk to my car in peace?

But why did all of this bother me so much? I hadn't done anything wrong; I had only walked by them. I glanced down at what I was wearing - my regular comfy jeans and a long sleeve t-shirt with a scarf around my neck. Nothing extraordinary about any of it.

Then I understood why I had felt dirty. They had been looking at me for what I could give them and not as a sister in Christ. They had been using me to satisfy their sinful desires, and I did not like that one bit. Brushing past everything that I try to have show, they only wanted one thing.

Since we live in a fallen world, is a warning to both young men and young ladies.

Young men - guard your eyes and don't give into the temptation to keep looking.

Young ladies - dress and act in a way that will encourage and build up the men around you.

As brothers and sisters in Christ, watch out for each other's well-being. By being careful and protecting one another, we are loving on each other. But even helping unbelievers not to stumble by the way we dress, ladies, is showing them that we care more about their minds than being noticed for the wrong reasons.

Romans 12:10 "Be devoted to one another in brotherly love. Honor one another above yourselves."

Word of the Week #11

truckle \TRUHK-uhl\, intransitive verb:
1. To yield or bend obsequiously to the will of another; to act in a subservient manner.


"Only where there was a "defiance," a "refusal to truckle," a "distrust of all authority," they believed, would institutions "express human aspirations, not crush them.""
-- Pauline Maier, "A More Perfect Union", New York Times, October 31, 1999

"The son struggled to be obedient to the conventional, commercial values of the father and, at the same time, to maintain his own playful, creative innocence. This conflict could make him truckle in the face of power."
-- Dr. Margaret Brenman-Gibson, quoted in "Theater Friends Recall Life and Works of Odets," by Herbert Mitgang, New York Times, October 30, 1981

"I am convinced that, broadly speaking, the audience must accept the piece on my own terms; that it is fatal to truckle to what one conceives to be popular taste."
-- Sidney Joseph Perelman, quoted in "The Perelman Papers," by Herbert Mitgang, New York Times, March 15, 1981

Truckle is from truckle in truckle bed (a low bed on wheels that may be pushed under another bed; also called a trundle bed), in reference to the fact that the truckle bed on which the pupil slept was rolled under the large bed of the master. The ultimate source of the word is Greek trokhos, "a wheel."

I Was Resting Hard

Couldn't think last night. My brain was too tired to come up with anything witty or even amusing to say; even talking was totally out of the question. I was told to go to bed because I needed to sleep. That sounded like a good enough reason for me. So all that to say, I don't have a very interesting post this morning for you all. :-(

That's My Sin

The lyrics to this song were sent in an email to me as a reminder of the reason why Christ chose to go to Calvary for us.

THAT’S MY SIN
When I sin, I drive the nails much deeper.
When I stumble, I make the hammer fall.
When I give in to my pride, I push the spear into his side, and I turn my head as if I never knew Him at all.

That’s my sin you see on the old rugged cross.
That’s my sin He’s wearing on His brow.
He is innocent, and yet He’s paying the cost, ‘cause that’s a battle I could never win.
If you ask what put Him there, that’s my sin.

See the crimson drops as they keep falling.
I’m the one who takes His life away.
Yet, He dies so I can live, saying “Father, please forgive.”
By His love and grace my guilt is gone.
What a price He paid!

That’s my sin you see on the old rugged cross.
That’s my sin He’s wearing on His brow.
He is innocent, and yet He’s paying the cost, ‘cause that’s a battle I could never win.
If you ask what put Him there, that’s my sin.

That’s my sin you see on the old rugged cross.
That’s my sin He’s wearing on His brow.
He is innocent, and yet He’s paying the cost, ‘cause that’s a battle I could never win.
If you ask what put Him there, that’s my sin.

That’s my sin, my sin.

Wacky Web-Pic # 10

That's right, now everyone (who can grow hair) is eligible for travel by hair copter! Order yours today at 1-800-fly-away. Not that we could sell you one, but we can sell you the 500 page long book that explains in perfect detail how to construct this timeless masterpiece!

The Frog in Our Drainpipe

He's stuck. I can't remember the last time that went out into the backyard in the evening and didn't hear his familiar voice. He's got to be hungry down there so every once in a while I think another fellow frog tosses down a fly to him.

I was very concerned the other night because I didn't hear him anymore. Frantic, I began shouting things like "hang on, we'll get you out somehow" and "I always wanted you to know that I love you" down the hole. After being pulled away from the hole, I constructed a miniature rope ladder using toothpicks and floss.

I tried to tell "Raymond" that it would be OK, and that I was lowering a rescue line down to him. He didn't answer me. I continued on saying to tug on the rope twice so I could pull him up to safety. He didn't answer.

The rope ladder is still dangling in the drain. Hopefully he escaped and has been joyfully reunited with his amphibious relations, but I have my doubts.

A happy life to you my froggie...

Word of the Week #10

palindrome
1. a word, line, verse, number, sentence, etc., reading the same backward as forward, as Madam, I'm Adam or Poor Dan is in a droop.

Here are twenty-seven examples of palindromes taken from fun-with-words.com

Don't nod
Dogma: I am God
Never odd or even
Too bad – I hid a boot
Rats live on no evil star
No trace; not one carton
Was it Eliot's toilet I saw?
Murder for a jar of red rum
May a moody baby doom a yam?
Go hang a salami; I'm a lasagna hog!
A Toyota!
Race fast... safe car: a Toyota
Straw? No, too stupid a fad; I put soot on warts
Are we not drawn onward, we few, drawn onward to new era?
Doc Note: I dissent. A fast never prevents a fatness. I diet on cod
No, it never propagates if I set a gap or prevention
Anne, I vote more cars race Rome to Vienna
Sums are not set as a test on Erasmus
Some men interpret nine memos
Campus Motto: Bottoms up, Mac
Go deliver a dare, vile dog!
Madam, in Eden I'm Adam
Oozy rat in a sanitary zoo
Ah, Satan sees Natasha
Lisa Bonet ate no basil
Do geese see God?
God saw I was dog
Dennis sinned

From Greek palindromos, running back again, recurring : palin, again; see kwel-1 in Indo-European roots + dromos, a running.] pal'in·dro'mic (-drō'mĭk, -drŏm'ĭk) adj.

"No You May Not Poke Me With That!"

The other day, as many of you heard, Spadoodles and I had to have blood taken. Yeah me! Anyway, for those of you who have never heard about my history of swooning (really, it's fainting, but swooning is so much more dramatic) here's a few stories of what has happened in the past when I come within close proximity to blood.

A few years ago I had to get a flu shot in the month of December. I have never enjoyed the process of being immunized, but I have heard that it is necessary. My sisters and I were all in agreement that shots were terrible, and we would not likely survive. Even though I thought it would be awful, I volunteered to go first. I bravely withstood my painless poke, and then the rest of my family followed.

Out in the hallway, I seemed almost giddy but for no apparent reason. Walking behind my parents suddenly took more effort, and I couldn't hear every one's voices very well. They sounded like they may have been shouting something to me from far away. The next thing I knew, Mommy G was bending over me in the women's restroom splashing water in my face.

The next time I "swooned" was while I was at AWANA Camp. After standing in a large field waiting to have our group photo taken for almost 30 minutes, I passed out. That whole ordeal made the camp nurse run across camp!

And my most well-known fainting story has got to be when I went on a field trip to the Butte (notice that its not "butt" but "Butte") Blood Donation Center. One of my friends was deathly afraid of needles so we hung together towards the back. Just when we reached the refrigerators where they store the blood, I started to get lightheaded.

The next thing I remember was that I was looking up at all of my friends' concerned faces. And since recovering from fainting takes a lot longer than just a field trip, everyone knew what had happened before our group got back to the church where we would be picked up.

I now have notes on my medical record of my past "fainting spells" so every time I have anything done to me, I am required to lay down. Just in case...

So when my name was called, I was kind of hoping that something exciting would happen. Maybe I would pass out before I even got into the chair. Or maybe the nurse would totally freak out. Perhaps I would turn a funny color and start rambling on words of nonsense.

But alas, after I seated myself, the nurse quickly swabbed, poked and bandaged my arm before I could have said "I think I'm gonna..." I have another doctors appointment in a few weeks where my physician will evaluate my lab work. If I'm lucky, I may need to have more blood taken.

The Boxes in My Garage

Last Friday Mommy G asked me to do her a favor. She asked me to climb up on a ladder and pull down the fall/harvest decorations.

One thing you all should know about my family is that my dad and I are the list and organization people. Packing the dishwasher, putting up Christmas lights or even mowing the lawn requires more thought than most humans would care to expend, but that's the way we roll.

My dad and I had carefully and precisely packed up all the decorations last year and stacked them in a very orderly manner. We both made sure that everything is packed snugly so it wouldn't break, and organized and labeled everything to make sure that we could easily find it all next year.

So anyway, being the decorator that I am, I climbed up the stepladder thinking that we would all have a wonderful afternoon putting sentimental trinkets and treasures up around the house. But my hopes of the afternoon started to fade when my mom told me there was only one box I needed to get down.

One box? Only one! For those of you who have not seen the ceiling of our garage (that should be everyone since you can't see it), every inch of available space has been utilized through the installation of hanging shelves. We have boxes and boxes of Christmas stuff, camping stuff, and only one box of fall decorations!

Then I began to think how my family's garage relates to our lives. We save boxes and boxes of mental images, words that people have said that hurt us deeply, bad experiences, disappointments and many other sad things. We very rarely let go of those things and lots of times we only have one box of good and pure things to cherish at the end of our lives when we go back through our "garages."

What kinds of things should we be holding on to and remembering, and what kinds of things should we be letting go of? How many times have I harbored bitterness and anger just because I wanted to hate? Hate is such an ugly word, but it is what we are doing when we nurse our hurts. How many times have we all chosen to allow friendships and relationships to be torn apart by unforgiveness?

Proverbs 18:19 "An offended brother is more unyielding than a fortified city, and disputes are like the barred gates of a citadel."

Wacky Web-Pic Wednesday #9

Who in the world would choose to live like this?!? That is not only wacky, but it is insane and brainless at the same time. I would normally tell you that I prefer the cooler weather of the fall and winter seasons, but not this type of cold.


Wherever this picture was taken would be the perfect spot for a time out. Other than sticking to the metal time out bench, I don't think you can get much worse than sitting (or huddling) outside in the snow for punishment. Pretty snowflakes but yuck.

I'm Sorry

I'm sorry. I needed to say those words. The past couple weeks I have not been posting. It's the truth. Really. I have been slacking. I have been lazy. I have been eating a lot (there is nothing wrong with eating). And so I decided that after my "blog-vacation" I needed to get back in the groove.

What can I say? I have let you, the readers, down (not to mention my beloved fellow author who has been poking me with a cattle prod for the last two weeks). I will try to pick up the pace. So, in honor of a friend of mine, I dedicate this apology to him. "I'm REALLY REALLY sorry will you PLEASE forgive me?" *gets down on knees and flashes a cheesey smile* Anyway, now that I've got that off my chest, is anyone up for ice cream?

Please take note that the previous text was written by me (Spadoodles) and not my dearly beloved fellow author and sister. If you didn't know that we were sisters consider yourself informed. I also hope that someone realized that I wasn't actually posting. Well, you can stop weeping now, I have returned.


*goes to eat some more food*

Word of the Week #9

paroxysm \PAIR-uhk-siz-uhm\, noun:
1. (Medicine) A sudden attack, intensification, or recurrence of a disease.

2. Any sudden and violent emotion or action; an outburst; a fit.

"But when he's on target -- and more often than not he is -- he can send you into paroxysms of laughter."
-- William Triplett, "Drawing Laughter From a Well of Family Pain", Washington Post, June 13, 2002

"Dickens had a paroxysm of rage: 'Bounding up from his chair, and throwing his knife and fork on his plate (which he smashed to atoms), he exclaimed: "Dolby! your infernal caution will be your ruin one of these days!"'"
-- Edmund Wilson, "Dickens: The Two Scrooges", The Atlantic, April/May 1940

"Mrs. Bumble, seeing at a glance that the decisive moment had now arrived, and that a blow struck for mastership on one side or another, must necessarily be final and conclusive, dropped into a chair, and with a loud scream that Mr. Bumble was a hard-hearted brute, fell into a paroxysm of tears."
-- Charles Dickens, Oliver Twist

Paroxysm is from Greek paroxusmos, from paroxunein, "to irritate, provoke or excite (literally to sharpen excessively)," from para-, "beyond" + oxunein, "to sharpen, to provoke."

Dear Curious

This past week, we started the Dear Amelia series where you can send in question for us to answer. After an overwhelming response, I figured it was time to actually answer one.

Dear Amelia,
Is college really as hard as everyone says?
-Curious

Dear Curious,
After being homeschooled for twelve years, I think that I can safely say that college is different from any other school experience I have ever had. Although I can't say that the work is exceptionally hard, like any other new school year, it does demand a bit more study and perserverence than the previous one.

I believe the reason many college students proclaim that college is difficult is because all of the sudden they actually have to be responsible for themselves. Professors don't care if you miss every lecture and the only action they would take is to eventually drop you from the class.

All of this to say that I don't think the homework is what makes college hard; I think the growing up and being in control of your own life part can be difficult for many people.

But don't concern yourself with what everyone else says about the work. If you know how to read, write and study fairly well going in, you should do fine. ;-)

Amelia

Wacky Web-Pic Wednesday #8

Wow. I mean wow. That's crazy. For those of you who still can't figure out why there is an anaconda laying on the floor of this woman's kitchen, let me tell you that's not a reptile; it's hair.


I wonder how long it takes to get ready in the morning when you have hair as long as that. Couldn't be less than 2 hours!

Today

I am not posting anything today. Last night at 11:49 I decided that I really needed the 10 minutes of extra sleep I would get if I chose not to write anything.

I just thought that I would warn you all. You probably would have figured it out without the reminder, but hey, I had to tell you something.

Would you look at that. I guess I did write a post after all. ;-)

In the Bathroom

Before you are totally repelled by the title of this post, please remember that we (the authors) desire to encourage and uplift our readers through our strange situations. This is a clean story.

My sister and I were so excited. A special trip with our grandma and grandpa had always been coveted by all of the grandchildren, and we were finally on our way. The two hours in the car flew by as the car sped toward the mountains, and my sister and I could think of nothing better than a week spent just relaxing with our grandparents.

Around lunchtime, everyone started to notice the absence of food in the car and our stomachs, and grandma suggested we find somewhere to stop. A small building nestled back into the trees was selected, and as everyone piled out of the car, we all caught a whiff of the barbecued burgers inside.

After sitting for so long, my sister and really needed to use the facilities. You must understand that first of all both my sister and I were quite small at the time, and secondly that it was very unusual for our grandma to let us venture off by ourselves even just to find the bathroom. She was (and is) just that way.

Walking through the restaurant, we both spotted the "restroom" sign off to the left. The bathroom was simple and being the older one, I let my sister go first. After a minute or so, however, I heard the panicked voice my sister say something through the single-stalled bathroom door.

"I can't get the door open. I think that it's stuck."

The door WAS stuck, and no amount of pulling or pushing would make it budge. I tried to pull it open; she tried to push it open. I pulled while she pushed, and eventually after what seemed like hours, the door opened a crack. A few more shoves and heaves and the difficult door swung wide open on its hinges.

I didn't know why no one came to check on us since we were gone so long. I also didn't understand how no one else became trapped in the restroom when they closed the door. As a side note, I didn't have to use the bathroom anymore.

As we both made our way back to the table, our grandparents looked up from studying their menus and smiled at us. When we told them about being stranded in the Lou for hours, they gave us quizzical looks. Come to find out, we were gone for a total of three minutes hence the lack of concern on our grandparents part.

I still don't know why I never thought to run to my grandpa and have him open the door when my own strength was insufficient. God is waiting to help us with our issues if we will only run to Him and ask. His strength is enough, and He will get me through whatever life throws my way. Another thing about our "unsolvable" issues is that they are so small to God, and He can handle them for us. By running to Him daily and giving everything up, He can show us how to live His way.

2 Corinthians 12:9 "But he said to me, ""My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness." Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ's power may rest on me."

Word of the Week #8

noisome \NOY-sum\, adjective:
1. Noxious; harmful; unwholesome.

2. Offensive to the smell or other senses; disgusting.


"The body politic produces noisome and unseemly substances, among which are politicians."
-- P. J. O'Rourke, "No Apparent Motive", The Atlantic, November 2002

"The first flower to bloom in this latitude, when the winter frost loosens its grip upon the sod, is not the fragrant arbutus, nor the delicate hepatica, nor the waxen bloodroot, as the poets would have us think, but the gross, uncouth, and noisome skunk cabbage."
-- Alvan F. Sanborn, "New York After Paris", The Atlantic, October 1906

"The most dangerous season was after the rice and indigo harvests in August and September when the waters were 'low, stagnant and corrupt' and the air made noisome with indigo plants hauled out of the water and left to rot in the fields."
-- Ronald Rees, "Under the weather: climate and disease, 1700-1900", History Today, January 1996

Noisome is from Middle English noysome, from noy, "harm," short for anoy, from Old French, from anoier, "to annoy."

Dear Amelia

The other day, I was brainstorming post ideas with my fellow contributor, and we had the brilliant idea of letting our two readers send us questions to answer. Genius, huh?

I recently set up an email address for ETST for the specific purpose of having people send us comments, critiques, slams, questions and feedback about our blog. And I figured that it was high time that we announce its long-awaited arrival.

Our email address is enlargedtoshowtexture@gmail.com. I know, it's totally original and you would never be able to guess where we came up with the name of our HQ. Hehe.

We will be calling this series Dear Amelia. Don't ask me why because I don't know. We could have called it Dear Bob, Dear Herbert or even Dear Helga, but we didn't. Although we liked the name Helga, we happened to like the name Amelia better.

Oh, one more thing, please don't ask us why frogs are green and not pink. Please.

The Day I Never Stopped Driving My Car

The other day I had the bright idea while driving home from school, that I would not stop all the way home. And somehow I managed it.

The drive home took way more thought than I had originally expected since there are a lot of stop lights, stop signs and most of all, other cars that tend to stop often. Stop signs were fairly easy to maneuver being that I would roll to an almost stopped position before accelerating again. The stoplights, however, were a little bit trickier.

My route home from school involves driving through 14 stoplights. I had to plan carefully for each one which sometimes meant slowing down very gradually and inching forward until the green colored go-ahead was given.

But as if 14 lights weren't enough, I had to go to the gas station on my way home. That brought the total number of lights up to 20. Bugger. The last light almost ruined me. I could see that it was green from a distance, but by the time I was remotely close, it turned yellow.

My mind raced trying to figure out how fast I should proceed to the light. Should I try to make it, or should I run the risk of recking my record? The light turned red and I pressed down the brake pedal. As my car crawled forward, I prayed that the light would turn. I would give anything if only the light would turn green. I was beginning to cross the white line and roll into the intersection by the time the light changed, but the light was green. Glorious green!

Zipping through the last light felt like I had entered the "safe zone" in Parcheesi. Nothing can bump you back to start; nothing can stop you from winning except maybe a cop. Luckily there were none to be seen. Not that I was speeding or anything.

When I finally pulled into my driveway, I felt absolutely, 100% triumphant. I had won my Parcheesi game that I had played against the people, whoever they were, who invented stoplights so people would have to stop. I win.

I think that I might write a song about green lights, "safe zones" and winning someday. Maybe I will...

Wacky Web-Pic Wednesday #7

OK, this is just disturbing. Wait, maybe if I look at the picture sideways... nope, still disturbing no matter how you look at it.

One thing I do know: those guys will never be friends with vegetarians.

Accessories

While shopping with my mom the other day at Walmart, I found an item that I had been looking to buy for a while. This object also happened to be marked down, which is always desirable to me.

I paused in front of the rack which displayed this item and briefly ran my hand through the merchandise. They were cool and smooth to my hand and some rather bulky, which in most cases indicates better quality.

After circling the rack three or four times to make sure I had seen everything, I selected a brown leather belt from the rack. But this was not just any ordinary belt; it had class. Yup, it was totally awesome. The brown cow hide was adorned with a large gold medallion that attributed greatly to the weight and coolness factor. After purchasing it, I walked out to the car, promptly pulled off the tags and put it on.

I bought my new accessory on Thursday, I have worn it every day since. My family is starting to wonder if it has grown to my hips and my cat, which likes to lay on top of me, is very annoyed at its cold presence.

Yeah, accessories are great, but they aren't the whole package. They only enhance or compliment what is already there, although they often are the things that you notice. No one notices a cool shirt if you're wearing a super sweet strand of beads in a contrasting color on top of the shirt.

That's why God commands us to adorn ourselves not with braided hair, gold jewelery or brown leather belts, but with good deeds.

1 Timothy 2:9-10 "I also want women to dress modestly, with decency and propriety, not with braided hair or gold or pearls or expensive clothes, but with good deeds, appropriate for women who profess to worship God."

Our deeds should be the things that are noticed and appreciated. But I am keeping my belt. ;-)

As a side note, I wrote this whole post while my cat was sitting on me. :)

Word of the Week #7

embonpoint \ahn-bohn-PWAN\, noun:
Plumpness of person; stoutness.


Example Sentences:

"With his embonpoint, Mr Soames appears to be wearing a quadruple-breasted suit."
-- Simon Hoggart, "Roll up, roll up, to explore the Soames Zone", The Guardian, February 1, 2000

"His embonpoint expands by the day and his eyes are buried in the fat of his cheeks.''
-- quoted in Goethe: The Poet and the Age: Revolution and Renunciation by Nicholas Boyle


Origin:
Embonpoint is from French, literally "in good condition" (en, "in" + bon, "good" + point, "situation, condition").

I think that we could safely declare the word 'embonpoint' to mean 'fat,' although the word fat was not included in the actual definition.

Keeping Up With the Jones

Have you ever met those people that put you to shame in every area of your life? You know the ones that can accomplish something in 20 minutes that would take anyone else several hours even days to finish. Sometimes I would like to be able to say at the end of the day that I...

...solved world hunger

...ran 18 miles in four minutes without breaking a sweat

...climbed Mount Everest

...wrote and published 4 books before eating my Wheaties

...swam the English Channel

...learned to speak Hungarian

...built a rocket that could fly to Neptune

...touched the North Pole

...memorized Sonatina in F Movement II on my tuba

...was unanimously voted president

...parted the Red Sea with my walking stick

...grew world renown lemons from seed to fruit in 2 hours

...fixed the Rubik Cube

...memorized the Old Testament

...cooked a Carmel souffle in my microwave

...chugged a 12-pack of Dr. Pepper in 3 minutes

...got up at four o' clock in the morning to feed my prize-winning chinchillas

...painted an exact replica of the Mona Lisa

...got a perfect score on the SAT

...built a life-sized medieval catapult for my history project

Fortunately, we are told in the Bible no to compare ourselves and our accomplishments to others. If we want to be content, we must come to realize that God created everyone for different purposes and with different gifts.

We must choose to use our gifts to honor and glorify the Lord, and even though we may never invent a new kind of awesome hand lotion or fly to Neptune, we must choose to only be concerned with how we appear to God. And we already know that He loves us.

Romans 12: 6-8 We have different gifts, according to the grace given us. If a man's gift is prophesying, let him use it in proportion to his faith. If it is serving, let him serve; if it is teaching, let him teach; if it is encouraging, let him encourage; if it is contributing to the needs of others, let him give generously; if it is leadership, let him govern diligently; if it is showing mercy, let him do it cheerfully.

Wacky Web-Pic Wednesday #6

I like Wacky Web-pic Day. I get the opportunity to search the internet for an interesting photo to share. But I must be careful when browsing. For instance, disturbing images that have nothing whatsoever to do with the word "cereal" pop up when I least expect them. I discovered this snapshot while searching under the word "strange."

Yup, that's definitely strange.

Don't get the wrong idea; we here at ETST really do like mustaches, but this is a little extreme. This man actually won a mustache contest; unfortunately, his doctor has put him on a diet. "The 10 extra pounds here and there will add up" his physician informed the Mustache Man.

Sad for him, the DMV also restricted his license because of "impared vision." Hopefully he will make lots of new friends on the bus.

Word of the Week #5

impassible \im-PASS-uh-buhl\, adjective:
1. Incapable of suffering; not subject to harm or pain.

2. Unfeeling or not showing feeling.

"Body is flux and frustration, a locus of pain and process. If it becomes impassible and incorruptible, how is it still body?"
--Jeffrey Burton Russell, A History of Heaven

"As he was a man of much dignity, with an impassible face, it was impossible to say whether he felt inwardly glad that the end had finally come, or felt sad over the result, and was too manly to show it"
--Ulysses S. Grant, Personal Memoirs

Impassible is from Late Latin impassibilis, from Latin in-, "not" + Late Latin passibilis, "passible; capable of feeling or suffering" from Latin passus, past participle of pati, "to suffer." It is related to passion, which originally meant "suffering" but came to apply to any strong feeling or emotion.

Word of the Week #6

Some of you may have read the title of this post and went "What?!? We just read a 'Word of the Week' post two seconds ago, and now I am going to read another one!"

That's right. You did just read a Word of the Week post. And if you continue to read this post you will read another Word of the Week post. You see, last week Spadoodles put up a wonderful post on my birthday and made an executive decision that she wouldn't post anything on Monday. (An apology will come.) As far as I can tell, that means you, our readers, have been deprived of a additional word for your vocabulary list.

To fix this dilemma I have decided to give you two posts today. Hope you like both of them.

fungible \FUHN-juh-buhl\, adjective:
1. (Law) Freely exchangeable for or replaceable by another of like nature or kind in the satisfaction of an obligation.

2. Interchangeable.

3. Something that is exchangeable or substitutable. Usually used in the plural.

"People think this tax is for Social Security. But tax monies are really fungible. They get raided all the time."
-- Eugene Ludwig, "Motivated to Work," interview by Kerry A. Dolan", Forbes, March 20, 2000

"The setting is Ireland in the 1950's, but, a cynical reader might reflect, this sort of fiction is so common that the characters will be completely fungible."
-- Susan Isaacs, "Three Little Girls From School", New York Times, December 30, 1990

"Genuine eros makes us desire a particular person; crude desire is satisfiable by fungible bodies."
-- Edward Craig (general editor), Routledge Encyclopedia of Philosophy

Fungible comes from Medieval Latin fungibilis, from Latin fungi (vice), "to perform (in place of)."

By the way, some of you may be wondering about the photo at the top of this post. You know, the one with the muffins. Well I thought that I would let everyone know that it has nothing to do with the actual content of the post.

What Tests?

This is my first semester in college. I have been homeschooled all of my life, and I have never once been in a classroom with more than 10 students. School has always been interesting to me even though I did struggle through parts of it. I first was introduced to the classroom test setting by taking the SAT and ACT. When I was dropped off to take them, I felt completely relaxed.

Tests were a major part of my at home education, and being that I preferred to prepare for them, they never really intimidated me. That was until I had to take the Delta Assessment Tests.

Just the name freaked me out. I had found when I took the SAT and ACT the steady clicking of the clock had no effect on my nerves. When I went in for the Delta Assessment Tests, I was not concerned about anything, yet. When I first entered the lecture hall, I saw an ominous timepiece hanging at the front of the room. What I found, however, was that there was an additional clock hanging in the back of the room where I constantly felt it's face staring at the back of my head saying: "Tick. Tock. Hurry. Are you almost done? Tick. Tock. Your time is almost up. Better HURRY! Tick. Tock."

However, after sitting down, I really didn't pay much attention to the clocks, that is until I started the tests. The facilitator was a massive man whose booming voice shushed the room in a matter of milliseconds. When the explanation for the people who had probably never taken a test before was over, the clock at the front of the room was set to go off in 35 minutes. "No problem," I thought.

Opening my booklet, I quickly started calculating and carefully filling in the corresponding bubbles. Something was wrong, though. After only two equations, I couldn't think. "Focus," I told myself. What was wrong with me? Why couldn't I think? That's when I realized the constant, never ceasing tick-tocking of the timepieces was driving me insane. As I struggled to finish, I kept thinking why a clock would bother me all of the sudden. Then it hit me. I only had a lengthy page of problems and only a short amount of time in which to do them, and the ticking pressured me to finish in the allotted time.

This story sounds quite a bit like our life here on earth. We all possess unique qualities and gifts, and God intends us to make the most of His time before He comes again. We have so much to do and so little time. We had better get busy. Really busy.

Jeremiah 48:10 "A curse on him who is lax in doing the LORD's work!

Wacky Web Pic Wednesday # 5

Well, it is Wednesday again. And today, as our Wacky Web Pic, we have a spectacular picture. It is MASSIVE. It is HUGE. It is a GIANT iceberg!!!!! This is the kind of toy that once you climb all the way to the top you shout, " I am King of the Iceberg!!!!!!!!!"



It is AWESOME!!!!!!!!!!!! That is all I have to say.

Never Forget

Let us never forget.

Running. Don't Stop.

Running. Running. Always running. My body is screaming for me to stop. The sweat drips into my eyes, down my face, off my chin, and my hands refuse to quit shaking. As my heart pounds in my ears, I push on. The crisp morning breeze feels cool to my flushed face. I envision myself racing along the golden streets cutting through alleyways and leaping over anything that bars my path. The early morning sunlight pierces through the leaves of the trees overhead as I press on. Running. Running. Always running. Just placing one foot ahead of the other. Concentrating all my focus and thoughts on the goal: to finish the race.

I am not trying to pass any of the other runners; I just want to cross the finish line knowing that I did my best, gave my all. I glance quickly at my feet which I can't feel anymore. They seem mechanical, never stopping, never resting, never pausing long enough for me to catch my breath. I will eventually have to rest, the strength in my legs and lungs won't last forever.

I knew the race would be long and strenuous when I chose to run it, but even my training couldn't have prepared me for this. My lungs are flaming, and, feeling faint, I refuse to stop knowing that if I stop to rest, I will never be able to start running again. As I mentally wrestle with these thoughts, my legs give out from under me, and I crumple to the ground as a sharp pain shoots from my hip down my leg. The pain in my hip is worse than the pain of my flaming lungs.

Slowly rising, I think of only one thing: the finish line. I have already started the race; I must finish. Can't quit. Don't stop. Keep running. Running. Running. Always running.

I can see it: the finish line. It isn't far, just over that little grassy knoll. Don't stop running. Don't stop. It's so close. "Just a little farther," I tell myself. Ten more steps. Five more. Two. I step on the tape as I cross the line. Pulling up, I collapse on the lawn just past the finish line.

I did it. I finished, and well. No, I wasn't first, but that isn't important. I did my best, and that is all that God requires of me.

Acts 20:24 "However, I consider my life worth nothing to me, if only I may finish the race and complete the task the Lord Jesus has given me—the task of testifying to the gospel of God's grace."

Happy Birthday Ally!!!!!

Today is the most emotional day I have ever encountered. Today is my big sister's birthday. But not just any birthday, today she is turning 18. *blows nose* Now in our country we, the young people, are considered "adults" at this age. I t is a monumental occasion. She has already been to college (I cried then, too). She now owns her own laptop. She doesn't have a "bedtime." And she can make her own lunch. In the next election, she will get to vote. And I will stand by watching (and crying).

Who knows? Maybe, in a couple more years she will be on the "road to matrimony"(I will sob). Then she will get married (I will bawl hysterically). I'm excited for her. What joys her future will hold. I can now call her an "old lady." But no matter how old she gets (and how young i stay), I will always admire her.

You see, Ally and I were always close. We have had great adventures, great sorrows, and great joys together. I can remember the times that we would make my room a colossal mess. And the times we "painted" our play furniture with mud. Years later, she graduated from Jr. high. Just last summer she graduated from high school.

Ally is three years older than me. She has always been my role model. When I would be the one getting all the spankings, she was the one I envied. Ally was the "good kid" in our household. I was the "strong willed" as they call it. To this day she is still my role model. And she always will be. She is the one I crawl to when I have a question about math. She is the one who has taught me how to be "artsy." She is my best friend. Thanks Ally. Happy Birthday. I wish you all the best in the world and in the life to come. *goes to get more kleenex*