10/18/24

Christmas for Ginny has always been the most important day of the year. It’s a magical day when anything is possible, like the unprecedented miracle of God taking on human form; it’s when a supernatural star led the Magi to the infant God-man, lying helplessly in a symbolic feeding trough; and it’s when men met God face-to-Face in a humble manger to worship him and feed from him. Ginny loves Christmas for both its majestic beauty and historical truth. She understands, however, that this sacred day has been tainted with folklore and commercialism, but experience and wisdom enable her to see these gilded traditions as a way to bridge the gap between the sacred and the profane. For Ginny, a gift for someone special on Christmas is a reminder of the greatest Gift ever given. So naturally Ginny wants to give Brad something special for Christmas. But she, too, finds herself without two pennies to rub together. Then, suddenly, an idea flashes across her mind that makes her eyes water, feeling the internal warmth that comes with giving wholeheartedly.

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10/12/24

“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…

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10/10/24

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…

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10/2/24

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…

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9/26/24

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.”

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8/16/24

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,…

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7/1/24

No sooner than he closes his eyes, he feels a sharp pain in the frontal cortex of his brain. His training has begun. The pain remains in the frontal lobe for over three hours with fluctuating degrees of intensity. Mentally, physically, and emotionally, he’s depleted of energy and patience to the point of insanity. He feels conflicted, wanting to proceed with his transhumanist project in order to be perfect and live forever, but his suffering is unbearable.

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6/15/24

Strokes on canvas come to life. Entangled particles of love explore. Earth orbits a dying sun— mere reflection and mortal strife. A villa with a view not easily ignored.   “For by grace you have been saved through faith.” Soil of Vine rich with trust. Proverb and parable collide— good deeds like talents buried turn…

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2/8/24

Before there was time, before there were gods, before there were blood sacrifices, before there were written words, Light spoke and split the atom of nothing. Time was dragged into existence, filling empty space. Some call “nothing” chaos, but chaos is disorder, which is something. It’s not even darkness, for darkness is a black top…

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12/3/23

Gentle Jesus. Born a King.   You laid in a foul feeding trough, appearing to many as humbly.   O Precious Prince,   you were hunted down and brutally beaten like a lamb led to the slaughter.   O Beautiful Savior,   you were so brave to die for me.   Prior to your divine…

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