I got to looking at facebook, and I think I like it better than blogger. It looks a little more confusing, but I guess I'll get used to it. I don't know if I can put my photo-art there as well, but I guess I can try.
By the way, all the RUPERT videos are up, and live on YouTube.
Rain clouds overshadowed the pool, and with reluctance, we climbed out and toweled off, standing under the porch roof. I liked the sight of them, wet and bedraggled, here. No, really - HERE. With me.
I spent every minute of the day pinching myself, but it was real.
No, really - HERE.
"Showers are open," I offered.
"I'll hop in one," Jo said, and went inside. She was moody off and on, and it was weird. Typically I was the one zinging from polar to polar. But since they were here, I remained at a consistant high. (Until I was forced to take cold medicine...then I got cranky and threw a couple tantrums. But that's beside the point.)
I talked with Merry for some time before we too headed inside. But suddenly Jo came back downstairs.
"Problem," she announced. "I don't know which is hot and cold water. The taps - "
I started sniggering, and mum looked from paperwork on the dining room table. "Oh, just take your shower," she grumbled irratibly. Obviously, she was not having fun with the sums. I kept laughing.
"But -" Jo began again.
"Hot is on the left, Cold on the right. Like always." Mum huffed, and Jo rolled her eyes, going back upstairs.
I let out a loud giggle.
"She's really blonde, isn't she?" said Merry.
The next day, I noticed that the 'H' was on the RIGHT, and the C was on the LEFT. So they were backwards after all.
And a week later, when the party was over, I noticed that they had been quietly rearranged to their proper positions.
curious, and curiouser still.
I'm not one to get all political, and get into philosophical discussion about the news or anything, but a recent occurance has left me thinking.
The latest terrorist attack (and I'm sure you've heard of it) occured in Glasgow, Scotland, where 4 men drove a burning jeep into the airport. I don't know all the medical details and all, but it's obviously not stunning.
About two years ago, God laid it on my heart to reach out to the Atheist and Islamic community in England and France. It sounded wonderful at first, but then I got to thinking.
I knew it would be more difficult than going to Africa and such, because those people are so impoverished, they appreciate any help. Whereas in Europe, there's not this urgent sense of need. So...it'll be difficult to face these people. And now, as I realized last night, I will have to deal with terrorists.
I am so scared.
Going over there will feel like how Frodo feels when he comes home to the shire. He's expecting this image of rolling hills, and cheery faces, and instead he gets smoke in his eyes, and a battle to be fought. I think that's how its going to be. I may be wrong, but....*shrugs* I don't know. I just don't know.
I've been reading alot on the crusades lately. It's so horrible - and it's all done in the name of God. Slaughtering people? Sending hundreds of children to their death? For Christ? I feel sick. But I feel like I have to know this. When I get to England, I am going to have one of the old manuscripts with the crusade knights and everything on my door. That way, when I leave my apartment, I will think about it, and not make the same mistake. I am here , out of love. I am here to change hearts, to create new life, through the talents my King and God have given me. It may be easy to hate these terrorists, but hatred in a heart, Jesus says, is just like murder. So I will not crusade, and slaughter.
I will love. And I will only be able to do it through my Saviour.
