Ten years ago, my parents, Robert and Sheila, were killed in a car accident on Christmas Day. A head on collision with a drunk driver took them away from me. It turned out that both front airbags were defective. They were coming back from looking at Christmas lights. My seven-year-old daughter was in the back seat. She was not wearing her seatbelt. She was thrown from the wreckage. She died instantly.
“You need me! Without me … you’re nothing! I keep you alive.” “Are you kiddin’ me? This isn’t living.” “How dare you interrupt me! You entitled, insecure, unappreciative little brat! I give you hope. I give you purpose. I give you meaning. If you leave me now, you’ll die. You’ll have nothing to get you…
When you were young, before my siblings and I were born, before you kissed our father— elevating him from bachelor to prince— you made shadows of figure 8 patterns with your shoulders and head on the Nicaraguan dirt. A pendulum swing of brown cascading pigtails and a homemade skirt that made all the rich…
A poem about a collage of experiences from Christian teenagers battling the temptations of living in a fallen world. Feeling torn in two, playing Pangea with Lily Pads: the kingdom of God vs the mud of the flood under my feet. One thing I look forward to— dangling my toes over a lazy lake sitting…
He speaks from the heart: “I have to say—I’m impressed with your sense of community and respect for leadership. But that’s nothing without Activism!” he finishes by dropping the clipboard and slamming his fist onto his open hand. “What is justice without action? Action is the meat of true justice. Words are the side salad.” He pauses. “There are no vegetarian activists. Only carnivore’s with claws. But I can see that not all of you have what it takes to be exceptional individuals. Only those of you who are willing to be led and rise to action above your current state of unbelief.”
After 90 seconds of cheer, she realized that Christina was still not responding to the medical examiner. She became worried, practically throwing herself onto the floor next to her opponent. (If she were completely honest, she not only wanted to bite into her gold hardware and taste victory, she also wanted to knock out her childhood bully. But she never intended to permanently debilitate her.)
ABSTRACT Prince Myshkin’s phrase “Beauty will save the world” needs to be questioned and tested in order to perceive as to whether or not it is possible to accomplish its purpose. Can Beauty, on its own, detached from the transcendentals of Goodness and Truth, save the world? This article studies Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn’s Nobel Prize speech,…
“I’m single-minded. I’m deceptive. I’m obsessive. I’m selfish.” Shamelessly, he continues, “I have no empathy. I don’t respect you. I’m never satisfied. I have an obsession with power. I’m irrational. I have zero remorse. I have no sense of compassion. I’m delusional. I’m maniacal.” He finally ends the transvaluation of vices with slogans such as “I think I’m better than everyone else,” “I want to take what’s yours and never give it back” and “What’s mine is mine and what’s yours is mine.” The commercial finally concludes with bright red words in all caps: “WINNING ISN’T FOR EVERYONE.”
The strength of this view is that with the ontological assistance of all three transcendentals, Christianity is simultaneously better represented and defended, while exposing the weaknesses of paganism.
Occam’s father shares a rite of passage with his son, who’s now of age to shave with a straight razor. As Occam learns the intimate art of holding the blade at an acute angle while performing short strokes against the grain to match the sharp curves of his face, he opens up about life choices….