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♥ precious.
la bella vita;

Cara

loves: black and white photography. poetry. vintage stores. thunderstorms. good ambience. fairytales. disneyworld. black kohl and fuschia lipstick. red and purple skittles. turquoise beads. icing but not cakes. might-have-beens. the dandy warhols. within temptation. automatic loveletter. mediaeval baebes. troy. interview with a vampire. the oc. making 11:11 wishes. purple glitter. mermaids. my-little-ponies. magic.

expertise: melodramaticks. eyeliner. laughing. goodbyes. hanging in there.

♥ music on, world off.
shh.

soundtrack to life.

♥ scream(?).
live.

♥ past .
instant time travel

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♥ adieu .
set them free

AMANDA
ANDRE
ASH
DEB
ELEMM
07IP04!
08IP04!
JOSH
KAT
LISA
QIU
RENJEAN


♥ credits .
thankyouverymuch

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Friday, September 18, 2009
hello, old friend. 7:11 AM

TGIF.


OGIF. --> Oh God It's Friday.


Everyone agrees that today feels NOTHING like a Friday. But on the bright side, it thundered this afternoon, which painted everything in a very pretty, very watercolour shade of grey, and it's been lovely and cold ever since; but my appetite has come back a little so I'm a little warmer.


I get my serotonins from dark chocolate.
...Because I'm dependent like that.
I've become an absolute caffeine addict, I swear. Tea and coffee (black, duh. "...Noxious!!" Lisa cries) in the morning, green tea/black coffee again after lunch, and iced coffee as black as I can make it, (read: three heaping tablespoons) in a massive tumbler the length of my forearm, at 10.30PM to tide me through the Long Dreary Hours.


Funnily enough, I can cope with almost anything, as long as it's raining.
Throw me five essay questions and I'll lock myself in my room with my legs bundled up in a blanket and Joe's jacket draped around me like an oversized stole and Incubus crooning through the speakers and a piping cup of tea and very happily study through the night.
It's the sun and the heat and the wetness that I can't stand.


...Oh God, this post is so inconsequential.


Anyway.
Daddy was driving me back home from my appointment at the running clinic today, and we passed by a church. For anonymity's sake, we'll call it FLATF (Five Loaves And Two Fish. ...Don't know what I'm talking about? Time to get reacquainted with the Jesus book.) Church. And outside, they've hung all these banners with pictures of people high jumping in the air and hi-fiving each other, and each big banner has slogans like "NO BOUNDARIES" and "FIND THE RIGHT PATH TODAY" etc. Which, excepting the fact that it kind of makes the place look like a University Open House, is perfectly fine.


But then there was this even bigger banner proclaiming the syllabus for that church's sermons. So I looked at it as we drove past, and it read:
"- YOU ARE THE WINNER
- LIVE LIFE HAPPY
- INFLUENCE OTHERS WITH YOUR LIFE
- COME AND BE BLESSED
- DISCOVER THE BEST FOR YOU
-...etc."


Which sounds great, on the surface.
But then I thought about it, and realized that there hadn't been much of Jesus in there at all. It sounded more Self Help Section than anything else, IMHO.


"COME AND LEARN HOW TO WIN, BE HAPPY, BE INFLUENTIAL, AND DISCOVER THE BEST FOR YOU! YOU YOU YOU!"


I don't often blog about Christianity/religion in general, because I see a lot of things in a lot of shades of grey and sometimes I get the feeling that my standards of morality and general philosophy- while wellmeaning- probably aren't in precise tandem with the Orthodox Church.
But for me to raise up an issue with this...mhm. 


Because I know that's not what Christianity's about.


FLATF seems to be advertising Christianity as some kind of...idk, lifestyle product. Viagra for the soul. HydroxyTrim for the spirit. Something.
But it's not that way. It's not like you become a Christian, and then instantly have coins falling from the sky and good fat things magically appearing on the table and your way becoming entirely smooth. Some of the best Christian men and women I know have suffered way beyond what they seem to deserve. My godma's a missionary and she contracted tuberculosis from working in the missionfield, with children in Cambodia. She's one of the best, most faithful Christians I've had the privilege of knowing- and she's also sick, wasting away physically, and poor as a church mouse.
Does she care?
No.
The grace I see shining from inside her makes me believe that there MUST be a God- MUST be someone great and omnipotent and worthy enough to have this beautiful, wonderful woman put so much faith in him. Every difficult breath she draws is a victory in His name. Every sacrifice she makes, she claims land in the name of the Lord.


So I guess Christianity's not all about the Me/You/Selfish MineMineMine.
If there's one thing I've learnt from being brought up around the people I've known, it's that Christianity isn't some miracle product that makes life all rainbows and unicorns.
On the contrary.
There's a verse in Acts that goes "...I will show him how much he must suffer for my name." and that's what Christianity's about. Putting aside your own wants, and taking up the cross, and dying to yourself in order to live for Him.
It sounds scary, I know, but there's another verse I've always loved that goes,


"...For me to live is Christ; and to die is gain."


Which I guess sums it up.


...So yeah.
I am all for colourful banners and attractive slogans and everything; but one thing I have to say to FLATF Church is...stop marketing Christianity as something it's not.
Maybe you find Christian suffering an ugly truth, so you try to paint it over to draw in the crowds. And yeah, it might draw them in. Everyone wants to learn how to be happy, influential, blessed, and making big bucks.
But what God're you leading them in to worship? A jackpot machine?
You know it doesn't work that way.


So maybe the truth's a little gritty.
But it's real. And yeah it comes with its share of pain but what it is is tender and true and genuine at the heart of it all.


They don't need a self-help book with a book signing session at Borders from 9-11 every Sunday.
They need the one Book whose truth will always stay, and the author they have to meet is the great guy in the sky who breathed the living words that went into it.






Am no Bible-toting, Scripture-spouting Jesus person; but. My two cents' worth.