I haven’t spoken on biblical matters in some time now, and thought it would be best to do so for a change. I went around a string of random blogs advertising this shamelessly to get some people to look at these questions, and for anyone who’s finding your way here for the first time (or for the first time in a while), I usually stick to ramblings of a more literary nature. In other words, I write stories. I’ve been working on a book off and on for quite a while, but work and life and other less noble pursuits have kept me from seeing this through, though I still think about it often. I have about ten chapters written, and I might rewrite some of it when I dust myself off and get back to work on it, but I was thinking about posting the first chapter here on Pleonast as my 100th posting next time. (If you’d like to see this, please let me know by dropping me a comment!)

But my original plan was to incorporate some good ole bible-beatin’s into the blog as a kind of proof of existence. After all, we’re here for one purpose only; “fear God and keep His commandments, for this is the whole duty of man.” Like everything else in my life, I’ve slacked off on this as well. So here are a few questions I’d like for you to ask yourself:

1.) When was the last time you introduced yourself to a stranger?

2.) How many times a week do you meet with other Christians? (This does not mean how many times you go to Church)

3.) How old is your oldest friend? How young is your youngest friend?

4.) Guys (all ages): When was the last time you took a leadership role? Was it something to do with the Church?

5.) Girls (all ages): When was the last time you told a fella he was doing a good job on something? How well do/did you know him?

6.) Parents: Do you ever invite children over to your home? Do you invite Christian children, neighborhood kids, or both?

7.) What are your three greatest talents at the moment?

8.) Christians: If the building your local church met in burned down tonight, what would you/your family most likely do on Sunday morning?

9.) Non-Christians: If/When visiting a church, do you ever feel uncomfortable during services when you’re referred to by the speaker (i.e. – “We are not soliciting funds from our visitors,” or “we especially welcome our visitors this morning”)?

10.) If someone asked you to sing, right now, would you be able to? How loudly? What song would you sing?

11.) If someone asked you to talk to them about the bible right this minute, would you, and for how long?

12.) Would you be willing to go to a foreign country to do a type of “missionary” work or to support such a work? Would you be willing to go to a foreign state or city?

13.) What’s your view on Communism?

14.) Are you content with what you have? Would you be content if you lost all you have in the next sixty seconds?

15.) Can you picture the most immodestly dressed person you have ever seen in public? What about the most modestly dressed person?

16.) What sin do you have the most temptation from? What sin does your best friend have the most temptation from? What about the old lady or the little boy sitting at the far corners of the church?

17.) If you died this instant, would you be headed for heaven or hell?

********

Read through your answers, make any changes you want to, and perhaps pass them to a buddy to see if they agree. You don’t have to share your answers here, but if you’d like to you’re welcome to do so. I won’t go into too much depth on the answers, since each one could be a lesson on its own, but here are the reasons behind these questions, briefly:

1.) If you can’t introduce yourself to strangers comfortably, you’ll have a hard time making others comfortable with you and with Christians in general. Not all strangers are Non-Christians either, and we should know one another well enough to be concerned with each other.

2.) Lately I’ve been seeing other Christians daily/every other day. We hang out, do activities together, and spend our time in both secular and spiritual ways. It’s been a real encouragement. If you’re not hanging out with Christians and you’re part of the church, be careful! That “iron sharpens iron,” and “bad companions corrupt good morals,” stuff really does hold true.

3.) One of the older guys at our congregation spends a lot of time with the young people. A LOT of time. And he’s been a great influence on many of us. The kids in our church are starting to sit with the older folks and vice-versa, knocking the unspoken seating arrangement in the pews out of whack entirely, and it’s a beautiful thing. There IS a generation gap, but you’d be surprised how small it becomes when you’re willing to find common interests. In other words – make a friend outside of your age-clic! It’s well worth the time, for everyone involved! You should be taking care of children if you’re older anyway, yours and others’, and if you’re young you should be helping and heeding the elderly!

4.) Learning leadership skills comes in all parts of life, but the important skills are learned when you’re taught in the right environment. If you’ve ever watched the Last Samurai, you remember that samurai means “servant.” They were the military leaders, yet their entire being was turned to serving others. That’s what leadership is; directing the whole, in the service of the whole. This is a taste of what it is to be an elder.

5.) If you’re married, you probably know that holding up your husband is part and partial to the whole marriage thing, but every guy, be he boy or codger, needs some of that strength and encouragement. A kind word and a bit of praise, and that guy will kiss your feet for a week even if he doesn’t show it. Try to encourage a guy you don’t really know so well, and see what a difference it can make.

6.) Parents, your kids need Christian friends. I had pals at church and buddies at school, and if it weren’t for the church pals I’d have left the church long ago. Kids need that tie to keep them on the right track. On the other hand, if you have good, grounded children, invite some of the neighborhood kids to join the group as well. Young children are more easily influenced by their peers, as well as the adults they are around. You may even influence their parents through them, just by showing a good Christian example in your home. Hospitality always pays off in the end.

7.) Whatever your greatest talents are, use them to your advantage. If you’re a big fantasy football fanatic, talk football with your coworkers… and slip some bible in when you can. Whatever talents you have are areas and subjects you’ll be comfortable in, creating a safety zone for you to launch into the bible. Even if your talent is basket-weaving, there are those in the basket community who haven’t heard the gospel.

8.) Would you be willing to open your home for the church to meet in, even just a portion of them? Being a Christian has nothing to do with the building, but have you really divorced yourself from that need in your mind? If the building wasn’t there, could you sit in the parking lot and sing praises to God, or observe the Lord’s Supper? I’ve met in people’s homes and rented buildings or rooms for services before, and it can be a very encouraging experience.

9.) If you feel uncomfortable being referred to as an abstract, let someone know. Don’t bottle it up! You came for a reason, even if someone drugged you and pulled you through the door. Ask them questions, and don’t be afraid of the answers. There would be nothing to gain from lying to you, and if you think we’re wrong/delusional/borderline-psychotic, then maybe we can help each other! Besides, when have you ever heard of someone getting mugged in a church, hmm? We just want to help you, as well as ourselves.

10.) A wise woman once told me that the human voice is every man’s God given instrument; the only instrument God gave to man. Even if you aren’t musically inclined, you should never be afraid to sing. People may complain, but I never forget those few folks I’ve met who sing from day to day, unafraid of what they sound like. If you’re bothering others, they’ll let you know. Until then if you have a song in your heart, be it sad, joyous, or just plan stuck in your head, it’ll make you feel better on a day to day basis to let it out.

11.) We should always be willing to talk bible. This is why we’re here. If you had a choice between saving a soul and playing Nintendo, I hope we would all choose saving a soul. That doesn’t mean we have to ram it down peoples’ throats, but we should be ready to drop what we’re doing and grab a bible no matter what the situation.

12.) We are strangers on this earth. We belong to God’s body. We’re here to do missionary work in whatever form it may take. Don’t feel bad if you can’t see yourself going to China; can you see yourself going to Nashville, D.C., Seattle, or San Francisco? How about across the street? We are strangers in a strange land, and we have souls to save where we are. Do what you can, when and wherever you can.

13.) “Commy” has a bad feel to it in our country, but early Christians were essentially communists. They lived together, helping one another and sharing what they had, and the Church grew. I’m not saying we should all move in together and live like some distorted Brady bunch. I’m not saying we shouldn’t either. Just roll that around in your mind, and see what thoughts come out.

14.) I don’t think I need to reference Job here to get my point across, but imagine what you’d do if your house burned down today and for whatever reason you weren’t insured. What if there was a nuclear strike planned for your area – could you walk away from everything you own, have worked for, or were given? What if someone asked you to pick up everything from wherever you are right now and move to a congregation that needed help, could you do it?

15.) The point of modesty is not to keep yourself properly covered – it spans so much more than that. You can’t possibly be humble or modest if you’re trying to get everyone to look at you all the time. It’s not good for anyone to be the center of attention wherever they go – just look at all the messed-up movie stars. It isn’t right. Just think about it, hmm?

16.) You need to know what your friends are having problems with. You need to let them know what gives you trouble. You should ask some older people what they have trouble with and how they get through it, and you should teach some younger people what to look out for and how to stay away from temptations. We’re all in this together; we need each other to get through life. That’s what Christians do for each other. Open up and share yourself, and let others lean on you. It really makes a difference.

17.) “Come forward, as we stand and sing…” Seriously though, if you aren’t going to heaven, FIX IT. Now. Tell someone if you need to, but above all tell God. Fix the problem, or it will get worse. Do it. If you know you’re not right, if there’s even a doubt in your mind… if you don’t think you’d be in heaven if you died now, or if your not sure, FIX IT. There will be no excuses when you die, only reasons. If there are any reasons that you wouldn’t get to be with God forever, you won’t be. His mercy only lasts until the clock winds down folks. Get yourself right.



Well, that was a web-sermon. I know it was long, but I hope you can take some of it with you. If you’d like to leave comments, please do, and if you want to read some of my old stuff, I’d love any feedback you’d like to give me! Next time I post, I’ll probably put down that first chapter I was talking about, so let me know if anyone’s interested in reading it, k? Be good.

Phoenix --
[adjective]:

Sexually stunning


'How will you be defined in the dictionary?' at QuizGalaxy.com
...

More good stuff to come, probably later today.

I haven’t done this in so long, I’m not certain that I can still do it at all. For those of you who (once upon a while) checked in here to see what was running through my head, I wrote stories and spun some ideas for your entertainment and occasional edification. It’s been a long time since I did this, but I’ve got the urge to do so again and so here I return to Pleonast. Please leave me a comment (so I know if this page is as dead as I hope it isn’t), and let me know how you all are!



The purple cow; as long as you don’t think about it, don’t hear about it, it never even occurs to you.


“Yes, Miss Beckinstall.”

“The Golden Mean,” she answered eagerly, “is a ratio that’s supposed to be this perfect kind of number, I mean not perfect… like, if you had a short stick and a long stick,” the rambling answer, though essentially correct, is difficult for the young teenager to put into words. Encouraging her with a quiet smile, he simply waits out her long attempt to explain this mathematical concept, reminding himself that a good teacher does not stifle his students, but rather leads them to the proper conclusions. “… so that if you put the short stick on top of the long stick, the total length of the sticks would be as much bigger than the long stick as the long stick is bigger than the short stick. Does that make sense?”

Judging by the blank stares and vapid expressions her classmates are treating her with, it does not. But he smiles at her just the same, and proceeds with the task of cleanup on this tricky explanation. “That’s pretty close, Anne. The Golden Mean, or Golden Section, was often used in ancient architecture to create some very beautiful and well-built structures, like cathedrals. The easiest way to describe it is, as Miss Beckinstall began, to think of two sticks…”

Turning from his class, Mr. Cherry raised a long arm to the whiteboard on the front wall of the classroom and drew two lines. The blue pinstripe shirt, crisply ironed by his wife this morning, had dry-erase residue on the elbows from where the eraser hadn’t been in easy reach during his last class. He liked pinstripes; the vertical lines made him look taller, made his students just that tiny bit more respectful. Human perception was a funny thing, but you took every advantage you could get with today’s youth. Even his pants had very minute stripes in the grey wool, running parallel to the carefully pressed creases on the legs. A shock of blond hair was carefully maintained by a part that could’ve been made by a slide rule, but was otherwise just long enough to be ‘hip,’ just short enough to maintain propriety in the lounge. His daughter said he looked like a California dreamboat in her funny little way, and his wife just smiled and shook her head at this as though she couldn’t imagine where the girl came up with such nonsense.

Midway through his explanation, he realized that chairs were scraping and children were fleeing to the sanctum of the locker-lined hallways. A quick glance confirmed that the bell had rung as he worked, cutting his lecture short. Sighing, Tim Cherry capped the marker and placed it in the tray beside the oft-neglected eraser and turned to prepare his materials for the next class.

“Mr. Cherry?”

“I’m sorry, Anne; I’m afraid I didn’t hear you there. What can I do for you?”

Quietly standing beside his desk was Anne Beckinstall, one of today’s disaffected youth. She was just like every other girl in the school, popular in certain circles, moderately pretty with a strange new style of haircut that managed to be halfway between a page cut and a ponytail without really being either. Anne wore the same long-skirted, white bloused uniform dictated by the Board, and like most of her peers she wore wildly colored socks bearing the faces of the latest boy band and the hairstyle as an informal civil protest of this injustice. He was pretty certain she had a crush on him.

“Um, is there any extra credit I can do?” she asked hopefully, practically squirming for approval. Not for the first time he wondered if her home life was good, if her parents were keeping track of her. Stepping in on a child’s behalf was one of his personal sworn duties to the youth of today, but time and legalities were not always accommodating to meddlesome high-school math teachers.

“I’m afraid if I offered you any more extra credit,” he replied with a chuckle, “I’d probably be reprimanded for favoritism. Don’t worry Anne; you have an excellent mind and a grade that reflects it.”

“Oh, okay. Well,” she pauses, as though about to leap into that forbidden territory between student and teacher in which he will have to break a heart and likely watch her grades suffer for a while, but the next group of students start filing in glumly and cut her off. “Yeah, see you later!”

Shaking his head, he turns back to the board and begins erasing it with his elbow.



As six o’clock rolls around his alarm sounds; time to go home. Hitting the ‘off’ button, he finishes up the paper he was grading (‘C’ … please correct your mistakes and resubmit for partial credit) and resets the alarm for tomorrow. If it weren’t for the alarm, which sounds like a fire-alarm buzzer, his wife would kill him for missing dinner to grade papers. He didn’t remember when he’d gotten the clock, but he never forgot to reset it every day.

Grabbing his coat, he struggled to get it on for a moment (it was a constricting thing, and he hated it) before flipping out the lights and heading for the car. The sun was low over the horizon, but the air was still warm for mid-autumn and he fought to get out his cars keys before realizing that he might not need them.

The little Toyota was not as empty as it should be. There in his passenger seat was Anne Beckinstall, grinning so widely at his look of surprise that he imagined that if she opened her teeth a little, a canary would laugh at him from the pit of her stomach. She had changed out of her school uniform and into a red top that was racy enough that if his daughter had worn it she wouldn’t have been allowed out of the house, accompanied by a white skirt of the same general mindset. Stopping dead where he stood, he tried to approach the situation rationally and come up with a decent solution.

“Miss Beckinstall, I’m not certain that you should sully your excellent record by breaking into other people’s vehicles.” Even to himself this sounded sufficiently stuffy and distant to get across to her that he was not only displeased, but downright not interested. Unfortunately, Anne wasn’t having it.

“I can think of all kinds of things I could do for extra credit, you know.” She was red-cheeked as she delivered her big line, probably stolen from a cheesy B movie, and giggled excitedly. Mr. Cherry’s stomach rolled over.

“I’m afraid our relationship will never go beyond that of student and teacher, Miss Beckinstall,” he said briskly, with no hint of a smile. Walking around the dirty hood, he opened the passenger door and pointed with his free hand toward the horizon. “The mere thought of anything beyond that will never cross my mind. Now go home. If you need a ride, I will call your parents from the office.”

This last remark broke cleanly through her casual demeanor, and the blood drained from her face in a remarkably short amount of time. The tableau was frozen for a few long moments; he hoped that his words were sinking in deep, and was already composing the telephone conversation he would be having with her parents later this evening as she stepped out of the car. Shivering slightly with tears that had not yet broken, Anne turned and walked silently toward the front of the school. A breeze gave Mr. Cherry a suppressed shiver of his own, but he got into the car and drove home. When he drove past Anne he did not look back.



There were no answers to his phone calls that night, though he tried several times to reach the Beckinstalls. His wife had been a little more forgiving with his tardiness at the dinner table when she had learned what had transpired, but she probably guessed that he was still shaken by the amount of trouble that had been laid at his doorstep this evening by the ashen look on his face. Dinner had been an abbreviated affair, as the roast was unappetizing to his churning stomach. The whole thing still felt like a disaster waiting to happen, made his peas seem like tiny time bombs on the plate. Everything was waiting to explode, but calmly.

Then the phone rang. His wife picked it up before she noticed that he was leaping for it, already strung tight as piano wire over the whole thing, and made a placating hand gesture while calmly Helloing. Her eyes widened minutely as the caller presumably spoke, her lips tightening into a thin line. She looked at her husband as she would at a stranger, or a cur, but said nothing. For the longest time she said nothing.



It’s like the purple cow; as long as you don’t think about it, don’t hear about it, it never even occurs to you. Like the elephant in the room.


The coat was uncomfortable, but it covered his wrinkled shirt. The usually neat and pressed pinstripes had not been marred by marker residue in many days, and the shirt smelled of sweat and something less tangible. As he sat in the courtroom, staring at the judges, the lawyers… the parents of his former students… that was the moment that he went into shock.

Anne Beckinstall had called his house, called his wife to tell her that she’d been molested. By him. It was ludicrous, beyond all logic and reason, yet there it was like a wall in front of him. The mere accusation had been enough to revoke his tenure pending an investigation. But the court system didn’t know where to start; there was the phone call, the parking lot encounter, the extra credit opportunities. The body, and the note.

Oh yes, there had been a note. They read it on the first day of the inquiry, after he’s been grilled for hours in a holding cell. He remembered every word, but refused to think about it. Still, phrases and bits would sneak into his consciousness, stalking the edges of his vision and tarnishing the lining of his clouds. “Thought he liked me… he hurt me so much...” The words that could have been truth burned through the lies, scarring his mind. He was responsible.

At her funeral, he heard, her father mentioned him by name. Gave a drunken litany on the evils of the school system and government in general. Nothing with a basis in reality, except for the part where he’d called due on that “Professor Cherry.” No one had argued with him, even as they drug him from the graveside.

And so Tim Cherry’s life was over as he knew it. He slept downstairs on the couch now, because he couldn’t bear the look in his wife’s eye; she didn’t understand at all. At first she had believed him, supported him unquestioningly. But as he grew to realize his responsibility for the matter she grew concerned, and then suspicious. There was no way to tell her that he felt personally accountable without making her think he’d done those horrible things. Soon afterward he took up a voluntary change of residence to a local motel.



Sometimes the elephant’s so close, you can’t focus on it. Or sometimes your eyes just can’t cope with any more elephants.


“The Golden Mean,” she answered eagerly, “is a ratio that’s supposed to be this perfect kind of number, I mean not perfect… like, if you had a short stick and a long stick,” the rambling answer, though essentially correct, is difficult for the young teenager to put into words. Encouraging her with a quiet smile, he simply waits out her long attempt to explain this mathematical concept, reminding himself that a good teacher does not stifle his students, but rather leads them to the proper conclusions. “… so that if you put the short stick on top of the long stick, the total length of the sticks would be as much bigger than the long stick as the long stick is bigger than the short stick.

“Does that make sense?”



Ms. Beckinstall was a slender woman, with deep wrinkles around her eyes from many sleepless nights. Her hair was lank and long with split ends, but it was clean. The coat she wore over her simple dress was thick wool, but she felt cold just the same. There was stillness in her eyes that she could see in the mirror every morning, and she saw it now in the bit of reflection from the scratched plexiglass of the tiny window. The window was set into a door, the only window and door to a cell wherein was housed Mr. Timothy Williams.

“Tell me again, I don’t think I understand what his problem is,” she queries the attendant. The orderly replies in a sort of half-bored tone of voice, as though it were a simple matter, won’t you please try to listen this time?

“Look, it’s like a purple cow; as long as you don’t think about it, don’t hear about it, it never even occurs to you, right?” She nods carefully, though she doesn’t really understand this, and he continues. “But as soon as someone says something about a purple cow, you think of one. You can’t help it. It’s like trying not to talk about an elephant in the room.”

Raising his white-sleeved hand, he tosses a finger in the general direction of his patient/inmate. Mr. Williams is a strange sight indeed; he is holding a blue dry-erase marker that looks as though it has seen better days, and drawing a spiral on the whitewashed wall. Something is scrawled above the drawing, but Ms. Beckinstall cannot read it because it has been covered with lines and spirals; the lines are in pairs, and the spirals are made up of ever shortening lines connected to dots on an x-y plane. These patterns cover the walls of the room. Mr. Williams scratches at the wall with his elbow from time to time, leaving blue stains on his coat and restraints which have little lines drawn on them as well, running from his ankles to his neck.

“He relives it every day.” The orderly shakes his head in some show of feigned concern, mutters, “poor guy. Sometimes he snaps out of it for a while, but he falls right back into this pattern.” Seeing the look of horror on her face, he decides that more detail might get this lady to lose it and leave already. “It’s like an elephant in the room, you know? Sometimes the elephant’s so close, you can’t focus on it. Or sometimes your eyes just can’t cope with any more elephants. So you ignore it for a little while. That’s the only time his mind is really working correctly.” Shaking his head again in what seems to be his only defining show of human emotion, he looks through the door with her. “Even after he was acquitted, he still couldn’t handle it. When he comes around, all it takes is the tiniest reminder of what happened and he’s back at it again. We finally let him have the marker when he stopped trying to stab himself with it.”

Ms. Beckinstall turned away. She had testified against her husband at the trial, and he was in jail for repeatedly molesting their daughter. Mr. Williams had been a good man; too good, it seems. Saying a little prayer, she hurried away from the door. A buzzer sounded, signifying the end of visiting hours and lights out. Two other orderlies came around to Mr. Williams’s cell, tying down the restraints on his coat so that he wouldn’t hurt himself in the night. As they were leaving, one paused to look at the walls, the myriad spirals and lines, and the scribbled epithets reading, “The Golden Mean.”

Having read Dan's blog, I'll do this one to clear my head.


The Seven Deadly Sins Survey:

WRATH

Who did you last get angry with?
This guy at work – but he got mad at me first!!!

What is your weapon of choice?
Tiny bags of birdseed. Don’t ask.

Would you hit a member of the opposite sex?
I was taught never to hit a lady, and I’ve never needed to before. However, when a woman starts punching you she is no longer a lady.

How about the same sex?
With reckless abandon, but it would take a lot to get me that angry.

Who was the last person who got really angry at you?
That guy at work…. (it was a bad day)

What is your pet peeve?
Rule #1: People are stupid.
Rule #2: Stupid should hurt.
Rule #3: Stupid people are drawn inexorably to those who are not stupid.

Do you keep grudges, or can you let them go easily?
I hold a grudge like a dead man holds a pose. Depends on the situation though; it’s always been a problem, though it’s getting better. It just takes too much energy to bother anymore.

SLOTH

What is one thing you're suppose to do daily that you haven't?
Exercise. I’ve been blowing it off lately.

What is the latest you've ever woken up?
Once, after a major exam (for which I was up studying for days), I went to sleep in the middle of the day. When I woke up, it was dark. When I checked the clock, it had only been a few hours… but when I checked the computer it had been A DAY and a few hours.

Name a person you've been meaning to contact, but haven't?
If I have something to talk about, I usually just do. So I guess I don’t have anyone for this question.

What is the last lame excuse that you made?
“I really don’t have time.”

Have you ever watched an infomercial all the way through?
Yes. I want a Tempurpedic!!!

How many times did you hit the snooze button on your alarm clock this morning?
Never snooze; instead, I reset the alarm for an hour or so later. If you plan for it, it’s the best way to sleep in.

GLUTTONY

What is your overpriced yuppie beverage of choice?
Hot Chai at the bookstore.

Are you a meat eater?
I’m practically an anti-vegetarian. (Okay, I’m not that bad, but I am quite fond of dead animal flesh.)

What is the greatest amount of alcohol you've had in one sitting/outing/event?
Does Nyquil count?

Are you comfortable with your drinking and eating habits?
Yup, now that I’ve cut waaaaay back on the sodas, pop, and coke’s.

Do you enjoy candy and sweets?
A little too much. (Hey, I have to make up for the sodas, pop, and coke’s!)

Which do you prefer: sweets, salty foods or spicy foods?
All three!

Have you ever looked at a small house pet or child and thought, "lunch"?
Eww.

GREED

How many credit cards do you own?
One. It remains locked up in a dark place, and has never been swiped. It may still have the security strip on it…

If you had a million dollars, what would you do with it?
Pay off debts, build my parents a house, invest, make a contribution to the local churches, and go on vacation. In that order.

Would you rather be rich or famous?
Rich. Famous is a load of trouble.

Would you accept a boring job if it meant that you would make megabucks?
Yes. Two years of boring job followed by two years of easy street beats four years of interesting job any day.

PRIDE

What's one thing that you have done that you're most proud of?
I’m only proud of secret things, so I can’t answer this one.

What's one thing you have done that your parents are most proud of?
Graduated. Thrice.

What thing would you like to accomplish late in your life?
I really would like to build my folks a house. Not gonna happen, but it would be great.

Do you get annoyed by coming in second place?
Nope. I’m just happy I got to play.

Have you ever entered a contest of skill, knowing you were of much higher skill than all the other competitors?
Yes. And that’s fun too. But I’ve also backed down from the same for the same reason.

Have you ever cheated to get a better score?
Cheaters never prosper, but they almost always win! If you’re not cheating, you’re not trying! (So yes, but only for kicks and never when it actually matters)

What did you do today that you're proud of?
I finished some work…?

LUST

How many people have you seen naked (not counting movies, family, and locker rooms)?
*blush*

How many people have seen you naked (not counting physicians, doctors, family, locker rooms, or when you were a young child)?
None! Nononono!

Have you ever caught yourself staring at the chest/crotch of a person of your chosen sex during a normal conversation?
Gah!? What a question! Who comes up with this stuff?!

What is your favorite body part of a person of your gender choice?
Depends on the person…

Have you ever had sexual encounters (including kissing/making out) with multiple persons?
yes
ENVY

What item of your friends would you most want to have for your own?
Meh, I’m good.

Who would you want to go on "Trading Spaces" with?
Nobody. I love my house!

If you could be anyone who existed in the world, who would you be?
I dunno… someone who lives on the beach, has no bills, and spends their days watching the waves roll in?

Have you ever been cheated on?
Not to my knowledge…

Have you ever wished you had a physical feature different from your own?
Often. I’m very insecure about that.

What inborn trait do you see in others that you wish you had for yourself?
Can’t really think of anything at the moment, but maybe I could be a little more ambitious?


Well, that was vaguely fun. Or at least it helped clear my mind. Now, back to work!

There is a norm for all things, even those metaphysical aspects of existence to which we all adhere wordlessly. The �generally acceptable� which constantly and consistently defines everyday life in terms that humans can encompass comes from many different sources. Some are cultural, like the wearing of black to symbolize mourning, or habitual like getting up in the morning after an eight hour sleep (or five for some of us) instead of sleeping through the day. We conform to social norms on a daily basis; nodding to a co-worker to acknowledge their existence, joining a club or playing a sport to interact with others. Many and varied are the reasons to conform to the mundane.

Though we live in a culture which professes to buck the odds, live on the edge, and break all boundaries, there have been times when I have felt a little ashamed for deviating from the required norm. I�m not a big football fan � frankly the sport bores me to tears, and when others start talking football, I feel left out and ashamed for no reason at all. Should I? I don�t think so, but I still feel it in the back of my mind.

Have you ever felt alone in a crowd for not agreeing with the growing acceptance of the porn industry in America?

Christians are often told that we are to emulate sheep. The humble, trusting nature of a sheep is without equal by any other creature on earth, and in the same way we are to trust and rely on God for everything. We are to conform ourselves to the will of Christ. This is true and good� but outside of this context, Christians who conform to norms may be one of the most subtle and devious threats facing the church.

Socially acceptable behavior is no substitute for godly righteous behavior. Social deviance, while difficult and often detrimental to the Christian, may be more healthy for the soul. If you were to walk in to work with a mohawk and a nose ring over a three-piece suit, would you be ashamed? Would it embarrass you?

How about if you walked in carrying a bible and singing a hymn?

Being a little lamb in the hands of the Father is a wonderful and praiseworthy goal, but being a sheep and conforming to the ways of the world is a great way to have your soul sheered. Instead of rolling over to every societal standard, stop and consider whether a sheepish attitude might be better replaced by a lion�s pride. If you feel ashamed to carry Christianity over what others expect of you, how will Christ be able to proudly call you his brother?

So let�s go out there, and roar like a sheep.