#and i came home and i told my mom about how cool israel was

[biblicalhorror]

The most frustrating part of engaging in any of this discourse with pro-Israel people is that they claim there's just something ineffable about "seeing and understanding" how supporting Palestinian liberation is directly calling for the eradication of Jewish people (as if that type of rhetoric isn't exactly how actual antisemitism often manifests in online spaces but that's a topic for another day)

They get through people debunking the "the land belongs to the people of Israel anyway" argument and the "LGBTQ Palestinians are safe in Israel" argument and the "Genocide isn't what's happening here so you should educate yourself" argument and when all of those points are meticulously disproven over and over they still stand with "Well, myself and your Jewish friends see the hate you have in your heart for us" and it truly doesn't matter what you say at that point because even if you yourself are Jewish they will claim that refusing to support the state, government and military of Israel is inherently hateful and bigoted, as if a religious ethnostate is some inherent human right that is being taken away from them. I know many of them are blinded by the relentless propaganda that's been around their whole lives and how hard it is to break free from a belief system that is so tied to your core identity as a human being but it is so frustrating watching people being led straight to the point over and over again and just turning around and refusing to see it.

It's also so frustrating to see people using the momentum of this movement to casually tack on actual antisemitism to these discussions, as if having Jewish people in positions of power is why the US bends over backwards to excuse the actions of Israel and not, yknow, the fact that our government directly benefits from having a military stronghold in the middle east. I've talked to some well-meaning pro-Palestine friends irl who casually use antisemetic talking points because they've ALSO bought into the narrative that Israeli = Jewish and so they blame the actions of Israel and the IDF on Jewish people's "religious values" and ignore the fact that this conflict really has almost nothing to do with religion itself and everything to do with capitalism, imperialism and maintaining the US's status as a so-called "global power".

#dont get me wrong there are lots of people on the pro palestine side who are very much aware of and vigilant against antisemitic rhetoric #but i genuinely worry about some of my non-jewish leftist friends and allies falling down some super shady pipelines because of all of this #i spend a lot of my time on my public facing social media sharing articles and graphics and whatnot about antisemitism #and how careful we need to be when calling out these atrocities and our government's complicity in them #but when one side is genuinely claiming with no evidence or argument that being against colonial occupation is just antisemitism #it makes it so hard to call out actual antisemitism within these spaces bc it delegitimizes antisemitism as a concern #i just want to scream #like. im not even jewish and i vividly remember when we had a special lesson in girl scouts about how wonderful Israel is #and they had us make little mini versions of the israel flag and they told us that israel stood for the safety of the jewish people #and i came home and i told my mom about how cool israel was #and she promptly pulled me out of girl scouts #which at the time felt unfair because she didnt explain why #but also how do you explain the horrors of colonialism and imperialism to your newly zionist 10 year old #anyway the point is that if i as a non-jewish girl scout was exposed to that kind of propaganda #i can only imagine how inescapable it must be for many american jews in the US #and i truly empathize with the amount of unlearning that needs to be done #and how hard it must be to let go of some of these ideas #but that doesnt make it any less frustrating to watch these dynamics play out on such a massive scale #and i hold so much respect for people in white jewish communities re-educating themselves and standing on the right side of history #as well as for all of the people of color and especially American Palestinians standing up and using their voices as much as they do #personal

[mediocre-writerr]

betty [quinn fabray]

quinn fabray x fem reader

summary: the last part of my quinn fabray mini series! this takes place in the pov of quinn and her side of the story! enjoy : )

*not my gif*

“Quinny?” my mom poked her head through the door, “You got to get ready for school.” she says softly. 

I groaned as I shoved my head into a pillow. I didn’t want to go to school today or well ever for that matter. 

And you’re probably thinking: Quinn what teenager actually wants to go to school? 

i did...once. When I didn’t fuck up the best thing that ever happened to me. Meeting her at her locker, holding her hand down the hall, singing songs to her in glee club. All of it. But that’s all faded away like a moment in time. 

“Not today.” I mumble. 

“Quinn, honey, I let you miss so much school these past couple months. I need you to go just this once.” she whispers before closing the door. 

I let out another groan as I pulled the covers off my body. Stumbling my way into the bathroom. As I look in the mirror the pit that was in my stomach continued growing. 

I hated how I looked. I hated how I felt. I fucked up. It was all on me.

And it all started at junior prom.

“Love, dance with me!” Y/N yelled over the loud music that was playing, trying to pull me out of my seat at the table I was sitting at. 

I smiled widely at her enthusiasm before raising my eyebrows at her. She knows I hate the crowds. Sure, I was popular and wanted the attention.

But there’s a difference between walking down the hall like a bad ass than being trapped in a crowd of thousands, feeling like you’re suffocating and sweating.

“This is my favorite song.” she pouted when I gave her the look. 

I pulled the hand that she had in her hand closer to me. Giving it a sweet kiss, “Next dance, I promise.”

She pouts a little before running back off to the dance floor. I sat there drinking the spiked punch, letting the alcohol burn all the way down my throat and into my stomach. Leaving a warm sensation behind. 

I watched Y/N’s every move. She wasn’t very far away from where I was planted. Jumping up and down, doing crazy dance moves, with Sam. 

I love Sam with every bone in my body, but I was always jealous of the blonde boy. He was a nice guy, funny, good looking and super close to Y/N. 

“Looks like your girlfriend is having more fun with Sam, than she is with you.” Santana says, leaning against the chair I was sitting on.

“I don’t like the crowds. She knows that. She’s just trying to enjoy her prom.” I mumble, trying to ignore her snide remarks. 

Santana hums in response before taking a sip of her own punch, “Sure, let’s keep telling yourself that. And I’ll be the one saying ‘I told you so’ when she leaves you for him.” 

That was it. That’s what started my insecurities. 

Was I good enough for Y/N? Or will she find her own non-complicated love with Sam or Finn? Was Santana right?

After procrastinating for God knows how long, I finally made it to school. 

“Quinn!” Mercedes yelled getting my attention away from locker. 

I tried forcing on my best smile, “Hey what’s up?” 

“You’re coming to Y/N’s party tonight right? Everyone’s gonna be there! I don’t want you to miss it.” Mercedes said.

I shook my head looking down at my shoes, “No. I wasn’t planning on going. I don’t think she would want me there anyway.” I mumble.

Mercedes looked at me sympathetically, “Well I want you to come. Dig yourself out of the depressing hole you’re in and come hang out with people who care about you. Think about it, okay?” 

I nod before she goes running off to talk to Kurt. I open my locker and stare at the cardigan hanging off of one of the hooks. My eyes dart around my locker to see the pictures of the two of us hanging on the walls. 

I miss her.

The bell rings and I weave my way through the somewhat crowded walls and into my anatomy class for homeroom. I take my seat next to Jacob Ben Israel and sigh softly. 

“Alright class take your seats!” Mr. Barnson yells as he walks in the door, taking his bag off.

I look at the empty stool next to me. Y/N wasn’t in here today. She must’ve stayed home. I wish I could’ve, especially after what happened yesterday. 

“Jacob, you’re going to be Ms. Fabray’s new lab partner.” he says and I watch as Jacob’s eyes lighten up.

The afro-hair kid coming to sit next to me, “Can I smell your hair?” he asks, disturbingly. 

I shutter in disgust and raise my hand, “Yes Ms. Fabray?” 

“What happened to Y/N?” I ask.

“Ah, Ms. Y/L/N switched homerooms this morning.” he says nonchalantly while looking back at his list for attendance. 

Oh. 

The day went on and on, dragging like a bad movie that wouldn’t end. Until finally it did. 

I walked to school today. I’ve been walking to school the past couple months. It was a nice break to just clear my head and think about everything. Sometimes it hurt to do, but it was much needed. 

I didn’t want to go straight home today. I didn’t want to go home and just lock myself in my room, curling up into a ball of nothingness. So I walked around more. 

“Quinn? Do you need a ride?” I hear a voice ask.

I turn towards the voice to see Mike and Tina in his car, “No thanks. I think I’m just gonna walk.” 

“Okay. Well we’ll see you tonight, right? We all miss hanging out with you.” he suggests.

“I don’t know.” I say looking anywhere, but them.

“You should.” Tina says before the light turns green and they drive off with a wave. 

I continued walking until I found myself at the mall need Breadstix. I hate the mall. 

I used to love going there with Santana and Brittany back during sophomore year of high school. When I was dating Finn and head Cheerio, but now it just reminds me of everything that went wrong. 

When my insecurity was at its greatest peak. 

“Hello beautiful!” I say as I answer Y/N’s phone call, walking through the mall. 

“Hi love! I miss you so much.” she whispers and I smile softly.

I hear rustling coming from her side of the phone, another girl’s voice, “I miss you more.” I say softly, “Who are you with?”

“Oh I’m with my friend Lizzie. She’s also a intern here and we’re just having dinner! She’s really cool!” Y/N said excitedly.

The rest of the conversation was about her internship and the amazing stuff she was learning and the new people she was meeting. How much she was having.

I should have been happy for her, but all I could think about what was, how much her life is better without me? What a fun life she could have without me? 

I left the mall that I was once walking in and nothing seemed good enough to buy. I was getting closer to my house as I was walking on the broken cobblestone. Just thinking about her.

How much I just want her to come back home and into my arms. How much I want her to let me know that I’m the only one she wants and that I am good enough for her.

Someone’s car came by slowing down next to me as they rolled their window down, pulling me out of my thoughts. Santana was sitting in the driver’s seat with her sunglasses on. Her usual high pony was down which revealed her curly brunette hair. 

She looked like a figment of my worst intentions. Her lips stained with a dark red lipstick and the way she was eyeing me. It just sent shivers down my spine. 

“Quinn, get in, let’s drive.” 

And those four words was all it took. Well four words and a human full of loneliness. 

A car honks shaking me from that terrible terrible memory. Leaving me with a mind and head full of thoughts. 

Should I go to the party tonight? Will she want me there? Will I regret not going? 

There’s two ways me going would play out.

1.) I would get there and she would open the door and slam it on my face. Then she would open it again just to tell me to go fuck myself. 

I shutter at the thought of the most likely scenario. The sun was setting turning the sky into a cotton candy looking sky. What a beautiful sky for a stressful decision. 

Santana laid next to me on the grassy field of my backyard. It was a cotton candy color as the orange hue blended with the dreamy blue. 

I spent the week driving around with Santana. We would go exploring the small town in Lima or just drive around singing to random songs. 

We laid there in silence just staring up at the sky. She took my hand in hers intertwining them together. And in that moment I didn’t care. I wanted to feel something, anything. 

Anything besides this pit of loneliness. 

She turned her head towards mine. And in a beat her lips were on mine. It was soft at first yet passionate. Then the next thing I knew, clothes were flying off, and hands were roaming. 

2.) Y/N opens the door and sees me standing there. I apologize for everything, she leads me to our spot in the backyard. And kiss me in front of everyone. 

Yeah like that would ever fucking happen. 

I didn’t know what I was expecting when Y/N came back from Pennsylvania. After the many nights spent with Santana, I dropped her. Or well ghosted her I should say.

I didn’t answer her calls or her texts. I knew what I did was wrong and I decided to just end it before things could get any worse. 

Was it fucked up? 

Yes, but I did what I had to try and salvage what I had left in our relationship.

I thought I could get away with it too. Until the guilt started eating me alive. The pit in my stomach wasn’t loneliness, it was guilt. 

And then Santana told Brittany. Brittany told Artie. Artie told Tina. Tina told Mike. Mike told Puck. Puck told Mercedes. Mercedes told Kurt. Kurt told Blaine. Blaine told Rachel. Rachel told Finn. Finn told Sam. Then finally, Rachel told Y/N since no one else had the heart to. 

Y/N slammed my locker shut causing me to flinch back, “Tell me she’s lying.” she whispers, her voice breaking. 

“Who’s lying love? What happened?” I say attempting to take her in my arms, but she took a step back.

“Tell me that you didn’t hook up with Santana while I was gone. And that it’s some weird vendetta against you.” she whispers staring at me. 

I couldn’t lie to her anymore. It was killing me. I didn’t want to lie anymore. I just needed to tell her. 

I just stared at her desperately trying to find an explanation. Desperately trying to apologize and explain everything to her, but no words came out.

“Y/N-”

“You did didn’t you?” Y/N asked barely in a whisper.

I nodded sadly and a sob escaped her lips. 

“Y/N please let me-” I try to say and she shakes her head.

“No. We’re done Quinn!” she yells in between sobs running off. 

I looked up and found myself in front of Y/N’s house. 

I wasn’t trying to go here. I guess my feet just carried me here. The party was in full swing and through her window I could see her just sitting there, nursing a cup. 

Her favorite song was playing and she wasn’t dancing. She was just sitting there, trying to smile, but was struggling too. 

It hurt me, knowing that I’m the reason for her pain. 

I hesitantly knocked on the door and the door flung open. Y/N was standing there and she was shocked, but her eyes softened. But it didn’t matter anymore because she covered it up with a harder shell. 

She came out and stepped onto the porch, closing the door behind her.

“Happy birthday.” I whisper.

She mumbles, “Thanks.” 

“Can we talk please?” I ask.

She was thinking about it. I could tell. Her eyes were furrowed and she was biting her lip. She looked in deep thought before nodding and leading me to the backyard garden.

There was a bench swing hanging from the trees. And we took a seat on there together. 

This is the spot. Our spot. 

We had our first kiss here. I asked her to be my girlfriend here. Everything happened right here. 

“Y/N I’m sorry. And before you say anything I know. I know sorry means nothing and it has no excuse for what I did. But I am so deeply sorry. I don’t know much and I don’t have much to say because I wasn’t expecting to come tonight But I do know that I miss you and you were the best thing that has ever happened to me.” I whisper letting all of the tears spill. 

She lets out a shaky sigh, “I know. I forgive you.” 

I smile softly and I try to lean in to kiss her, but she immediately pulls back. Leaving me embarrassed and heartbroken.

“Just because I forgive you doesn’t mean that I want to get back together. I know you know that what you did was wrong. And I trust you when you say that it wasn’t anything special. But it doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt. I love you Quinn Fabray, but I just can’t do this right now.” she whispers back.

She begins to wipe away the tears from my cheeks. I took in a deep breath before embracing the feeling of her touch. Y/N closes her eyes and rests her forehead on top of mine. 

I cup her cheeks into my hands. My thumb trying to memorize all of the crevasse, cheek bones, every little feature. 

“I will always love you and maybe we’ll be together one day. Just not today.” she whispers pulling away and kissing my cheek softly, “Goodbye Quinn.” 

#quinn fabray #quinn fabray imagine #quinn fabray imagines #quinn fabray x reader #quinn fabray x fem reader

[revisitingsundayschool]

Genesis 31-36: More Jacob Stories

Jacob and Laban - Genesis 31

Synopsis: Laban was upset with Jacob for taking advantage of him for profit. Jacob was upset with Laban because Laban kept changed the agreement for his wages multiple times. God told Jacob to leave, so he left with his wives and possessions back to Canaan. Before they left, Rachel stole Laban's (her father's) idols without Jacob's knowledge. Laban chased Jacob's family down for 7 days and they finally met in Gilead. God told Laban not to say anything to Jacob, good or bad. Laban didn't follow God's instructions, and complained to Jacob about deceiving him and running away. He also accused Jacob of stealing his idols. Jacob denied stealing the idols, told Laban to search the camp. Jacob said that if someone had the idols in his camp, they'd die. Laban searched the camp. Rachel was hiding the idols under a camel saddle she was sitting on. When Laban got to her, she said that she was on her period, so she couldn't stand up. After Laban finished searching, Jacob told Laban off a bit for how he was treated while working for Laban. Laban and Jacob decided to make a border that neither would cross. They marked it with a heap of rocks and a pillar. Laban said his goodbyes to the family and returned to his home.

I didn't remember such close relatives of Abraham-Isaac-Jacob worshipping gods that weren't God/Jehovah. The Bible points out that Rachel took the idols without Jacob's knowledge, but I have a hard time believing that based on his previous antics. I know I'm questioning the facts of a story that likely didn't happen, but it would seem more in character for him to be the mastermind behind stealing Laban's stuff. I have no sympathy for Jacob complaining about his wages changing under Laban. He tried to claim innocence, but he was super manipulative and attempted to steal Laban's entire flock by making them all give birth to spotted and speckled offspring in Genesis 30. I like to think that Rachel wasn't actually on her period and was just playing into how men are stereotypically grossed out by periods. Also, there wasn't not much payoff of Laban talking to Jacob against God's wishes. Many people have died for much less in the Bible. My thoughts are a bit all over the place with this story, but whatever.

Jacob and Esau Meet Again - Genesis 32:1-21, Genesis 33

Synopsis: Jacob sent messengers to Esau to give him a large gift of donkeys, sheep, goats, and slaves. Jacob was afraid of Esau's wrath (explanation in last week's post), so he split the camp in two. One group would be present when Esau came. If Esau killed that group, the other half would live. Jacob prayed to God for protection from Esau. Later, Esau came with 400 men. But, Esau hugged Jacob and met Jacob's family. Esau tried to refuse Jacob's gift, but finally accepted it after Jacob's insistence. Esau offered to escort them back home, but Jacob said that he needed to go slower due to his livestock. Jacob bought a plot of land from the sons of Hamor the Hivite to set up an altar called El Elohe Israel (translates to "El is the God of Israel" or "mighty is the God of Israel").

Despite Jacob taking so much from Esau, Esau is very receptive to Jacob returning. Before Jacob left for Paddan Aram over twenty years ago, Esau was filled with rage and was ready to kill Jacob over having his blessing stolen. Maybe God pulled some mind-games on Esau to change his heart in an effort to protect Jacob. No matter what, this is just another example of why Esau is a much more sympathetic character than Jacob. One detail in the story is that before Esau approaches the group, Jacob orders the family slaves in front, then Leah, and finally Rachel in the back. Jacob was not even hiding his favoritism and put on display who was the most expendable in his eyes.

Jacob Wrestles God - Genesis 32:22-32

Synopsis: Jacob sent his family across the Jabbok river on their way to meet Esau in the previous story. Then, a man wrestled him all night. The man realized he couldn't beat Jacob, so he touched Jacob's hip to wrench it. The man asked to be let go, but Jacob refused until he blessed Jacob. The man said that Jacob will now be called Israel (likely translates to "he struggles with God") because he beat God in the wrestling match. The Israelites did not eat the tendon in the hip because that's where Jacob was touched by God.

Jacob's opponent in the match is debated. Some interpretations of the story are that Jacob wrestled an angel, but the NIV is fairly explicit that Jacob wrestled God disguised as a man. There are some pretty cool statues/drawings depicting this event in the Bible. In my head before rereading recently, I think I combined this story and Jacob's ladder into a single event. The story is a bit goofy the way a man comes out of no where to wrestle Jacob for a day. At the same time though, it's kinda cool.

Dinah and the Shechemites - Genesis 34

Synopsis: TW for Sexual Assault. If this subject upsets you, skip to the next section. Shechem, son of Hamor the Hivite (a ruler in the area) raped Dinah, Jacob's daughter with Leah. Shechem wanted to marry Dinah afterward. Jacob's sons heard about what Shechem did to Dinah, so they told Shechem that Shechem's entire family would need to be circumcised in order for the two groups to intermarry. They agreed and Shechem, Hamor, and all of the men of their city were circumcised. Then, while they were recovering, two of Jacob's sons, Simeon and Levi, killed all of the men, looted the city, and took the women and children. Jacob was upset that with Simeon and Levi because of how the other Canaanites in the area may respond. But the two sons believed they did the right thing in defending Dinah.

I wish Dinah wasn't used as a plot device in this way. It sucks that women are excluded of most of the Bible. When they are included, many times they are used for sex and having children. Her brothers avenged her, but I'm not a huge fan of this story. I can't believe children are encouraged to read this book sometimes.

Jacob Returns to Bethel - Genesis 35:1-15

Synopsis: God told Jacob to got to Bethel to build an altar. Jacob told his household to get rid of any idols they had and change their clothes before they left for Bethel. When they got to Bethel, God told Jacob that nations would come from him. Jacob built a stone pillar, poured a drink out as an offering, and put oil on it.

Not a whole lot we didn't already know in this story. This is an early reference to "pouring one out for a homie". This isn't a gesture to someone who had died, but it is a symbolic offering.

Death of Isaac and Rachel + Lineages - Genesis 35:16-36:43

Synopsis: Rachel died during the childbirth. As she was dying, she named the son Ben-Oni ("son of my trouble"), but Jacob named him Benjamin ("son of my right hand"). Reuben, Jacob's eldest son, slept with one of Jacob's concubine Bilhah (mother of Dan and Naphtali). Jacob heard about it. Shortly after Jacob returned home, Isaac also died. Then, Genesis 36 goes into Esau's family line and Edomite kings.

They change the name between Jacob and Israel in this story. I'll continue to refer to the man as Jacob to avoid confusion with the nation. Jacob going against his wife's name for his son on her death bed is on brand for him, but the name meaning "son of my trouble" would be a tough one to have. It's ridiculous that Isaac is just now dying. 20 years earlier, he gave Jacob the blessing that was meant for Esau. At that point, it seemed to me like he was so close to death that the blessing couldn't be transferred to Esau after it was clear that Jacob deceived Isaac. Reuben having sex with one of his half-brother's mom is weird. I also updated the family tree. For some simplicity, I did not include Edomite rulers that did not have a hereditary link to Esau or another figure already in the family tree.

Feel free to share your thoughts in the comments below or in the Discord. The passage for next Sunday will cover some stories about Joseph (Genesis 37-40).

#genesis #bible #atheist #ex christian #jacob #dinah #esau #laban #shechem #wrestle #hamor

[gabriellaeliezer-blog]

Personal Narrative Final Draft

Gabriella Eliezer Professor Edward McCulloch English Composition I 23 September 2018 Cancer Struggle I see my mom walk in and open her mouth to say something to me. She says my name, “Gabriella”. She asked me if I could pick up my little brother Daniel from the bus stop. Since the chemotherapy she has little strength to do anything, even drive to the bus stop that is five minutes away. It hurt to think that she could not even go and greet my little brother from the bus. I have taken a good amount of responsibility, since mom got her breast cancer. Driving both my brothers to and from everywhere they needed to go. It saddens me this is how I learned responsibility. I remembered in my health class during high school how the teacher asked us how many people who knew someone who had breast cancer and that I never raised my hand until my senior year of high school. All those years before I never truly thought I was going to ever be one of those people who raise their hand, but there I was raising mine. I remembered the day she got the call clearly as if it were yesterday. We were on vacation in Israel and it was nighttime, I was asleep on the living room couch of our uncle’s house. In that moment I thought of what my mom was going through and hoped that she was all right. I worried about her constantly and always asked if she needed help or if she was okay. She always said yes when the boys were around. She never wanted them to see her break down, she did not even want me too, but I was there most of the time and was her oldest and only daughter. It made me feel so useless that I could not stop her tears. My Abba, which means father in Hebrew, had to work to support the family, so he was not home often. My Abba owns his own moving company NGH Transport and he goes to multiple states. He was the only source of income at the time. Looking back, I remember being excited that at seventeen years old I could get a job, but with my mom’s cancer I had to stay home and help with my brothers. I essentially took over the house as my mom could not do it and Abba had to work. It was a very trying time for my family and I, especially me, as the oldest and the one that mostly in charge. I always wished my Abba was there, so I did not have to take on so much responsibility. Even at seventeen and on the verge of adulthood I could not prepare for this as the most challenging time in my life. She first told us that she just had to do radiation, which would not be as bad as chemotherapy. I was so happy that she did not have to do chemotherapy. My happiness did not last long. My mom gathered all three of us together and told us she had stage two breast cancer and it was more aggressive then the doctors first thought. She had to do chemotherapy due to the more aggressive cancer. I had wanted to cry, but I knew I had to remain strong for everyone. I will never forget the day my mom broke down crying because she was starting to lose her hair. That moment forever changed my life and I have never felt more powerless. One of the greatest feelings that stood out to me were powerlessness and pride. Powerlessness because I could not help my mom and make her feel better. Pride because of how my mom pulled through this. She always looked at the positive like how she could buy cool hates and how she survived. I had never felt happier that this amazing woman was my mom and promised myself to be just as strong as her one day. My mom taught me the greatest lesson that you must be strong in bad times. This is the most difficult time of my life. I never felt more pushed to the brink before. In the beginning all I felt was negativity, but as my mom got better and started doing well, I have come to only felt happiness. Almost two weeks ago, my mother came back with the greatest news – she was cancer free! This experience taught me that you must be strong and never let the good ruin the bad. This period in my life when my mom has breast cancer has only made me stronger.

[flawedconqueror]

Bluebird

This summer has been a whirlwind filled with instability, whimsical moods

And feeling disorientated

In Florida, I had the privilege of spending time with my friend’s mom who has seen life, experienced loss

She told me the story of the Blue Bird and how we often think going to this place, or that place will acquire happiness

She considers the decisions she made as her children are in different parts of the world and if it was worth it

My time there was short

But it did give me a picture of something I can work towards. When I was young I used to be so goal-oriented. I’ve struggled in recent years seeing it as futile, but it is good to aim for something...

FL showed me to go where the opportunity is as her dad would pack the van with children and go to places such as Indiana, California for a job opportunity later amassing a fortune by having his share in hotel real estate by the end of his life

He was estranged from his parents for decades due to the communist regime not seeing them again until his 40s 

The sun in FL also helped with my mood as I had a nervous breakdown a couple weeks prior and I was desperate to go anywhere (aunt in Accra or Norway were very plausible, feasible options despite still being in school) but as God had it happened I ended up in Fl

I then went to NY where I again was given a vision as I’ve been struggling for the past several years with purpose and direction

I ended up staying with my aunt who I had seen 3 years ago. This is a God-thing...

 The year of my brother’s death, life was at a standstill for me and I didn’t realize the complexities, implications and layers of grief his death would have on my life. Similar to an onion unravelling I had and still go through a process of grief which has been sheer horror. The same year of his death I had gone gung-ho to Israel not realizing the excess of motion, lights and movement was too much for my precarious, fragile mind. I was despondent and withdrawn throughout the trip. That said, I loved the trip and I feel honoured but I took for granted what my limitations were. After I had gone back from the trip-of-a-lifetime which included offroad driving, floating in the dead sea and spending time with Bedouins I struggled with depression and didn’t go to church for 3 months. I became recluse in my room and a shell of my former self.

The night before I had ordered a ticket to N.Y. to go to the Bronx to look at an apartment. After work, I had my bag and greyhound tickets in tow to go to Union station. I think I was suppose to meet someone in the Bronx. As I was boarding the bus, my aunt who I hadn’t since I visited Ghana almost a decade ago had called me. She was no longer in Accra, but in Queens, NY. Divine intervention. So my trip was redirected from the Bronx to Queens. I told the person I was no longer interested in seeing the apartment.

The several years have been a challenge, but revisiting my aunt also helped paint a vision for my life. After my brother’s death, my friend discussed creating a vision board (the fudge is that). At a church retreat someone with a fancy bank job, some of you may consider a nice bachelor, talked about a 5-year plan and I vaguely remembering thinking how much b.s. that was in light of my bro’s death. You can see I’ve became more cynical and jaded. As I’ve been mostly despondent, and absentminded...depressed...reckless...

My friends told me we're adults but I couldn’t process that. What is an adult? What does that mean? Should I get a house or get married? “Simple” functions like making my bed, taking care of myself became foreign. I stared aimlessly at the computer screen at my jobs I struggled to edit a paragraph for “simple” grammatical errors.  It’s funny the year of 2018 I was working towards things, some type of trajectory, but after my brother’s death everything was at a standstill. I wasn’t interested in getting a partner, my executive director noticed a paleness in my complexion and was concerned for my wellbeing. 

I was a bridesmaid for my friends wedding, but I felt despondent. I looked pretty but I felt empty....

Back to my aunt’s three years later. She is now renting out a house, a head oncology nurse and selling items back home. She uses the term industrious to describe herself. I see a marriage. A family. Okay, so that is something I should works towards. She notices my absent-mindedness as I forget to place things. Some type of routine is established by forcing me to wake up on time. Hang the towels on the balcony. Sweeping the floor. Although I spent two or so odd weeks there, the routine and order helped jumpstart a propriety and structure that I so desperately needed. But she told me she had a dream, that I should go back home and I was sensing that too. 

I was planning to go to Boston. See an old mate. We shared beds in N.Y. and Boston. Good times. I still need to visit her family in Albion. One of my favourite memories of her is slapping her face point-blank when she mentioned my elementary crush (who by the way I spent several nights praying that we’d end up together), a reflection of my impulsive nature. She too I think chased the Blue Bird her images of going around the world, working on humanitarian causes shows an awareness that I perhaps envy or admired. But she  realized the top wasn’t all cracked up and she also wants to get paid....

I think now i want to get married, own a condo in FL (rent it out), travel...go back to the random sporadic moments

I think about my uncle old, his gait filled with a limp. Pain, disappointment

as we talk his dialogue shifts to him mentioning that his mom gave him advice about staying away from people with devil-like qualities, I realized my uncle is almost in a trance-like state he is not referring to me, but my brother, tears filling his eyes...

he talks about the world changing

I look at pictures of him from the ‘80s and ‘90s:

Carefree, smiling, jovial, cool

In the ‘80s gold was booming in Ghana and everyone wanted their piece of the pie. My uncle, much like myself, left his town against the advice of his mother for an adventure. He sold gold in neighbouring African countries but, eventually ended up in Israel where he did “business,” People respected him because of his hardworking nature and ability to do a job well. He learned Hebrew, got a jewish girlfriend, came to the realization of: what am I doing in Tel Aviv which led to  a journey to Egypt, Morocco, before finally getting a ticket to Montreal.

Along the way he adopts two, feisty, strong-willed children. 

But yesterday’s conversation acknowledges a weariness of the world changing, increasing restrictions, and he acknowledges Ghana is not like that

I consider now (God willing) with remote work maybe I can spend time in Ghana

I wonder about the narratives being pushed in Canada and who profits from our ignorance

I think about a time when I used to make shapes in the clouds with my brother, going under cars, somewhat impervious to the ills of the world...

I think about how I wanted to go to NY for what I considered the writing mecca in pursuit of that thing, like the Blue Bird

But realizing how empty those buildings are 

But I’m realizing contentment is not a destination but a state of being

How all that glitters isn’t gold

Hey, I may not be married or have a place (yet)

But I’m okay: I got air in my lungs, a few blank sheets of paper...

I think about authenticity, integrity, humility 

I think, I think, I think and wander....

[chaoswriting92]

Heaven in a wildflower

The speakers thumped a lazy symphonic beat overhead. It was supposed to be ambient and quiet, but in a way that was supposed to relax, and comfort people while they talked amongst themselves and mulled life over the coffee, or tea, of their choice. While it probably did have that effect on the customers, Changkyun found that it made him restless. There was no flow to the sound, no rhythmic timbre of voices telling a story, trying to be heard in a crowd that too often overlooks them, and he found that he hated the emptiness of it. He couldn’t wait for his shift to end. There was another battle tonight, and he was going to win this one he was sure of it. One of the guys he was supposed to face was a newcomer just like him. This should be nothing and once he faced off with this guy there was nothing standing between him and Yoongi. Yoongi had sway in the music production world. He just had to get to Yoongi and people finally would listen. He could get scouted as a lyricist and could finally take care of his family. He could make it so his father didn’t have to work so hard anymore like he had when Changkyun was growing up.  He just had to win and he could be free. 

Changkyun was tired of being stuck in Gwangju. He hadn’t always lived here, maybe that was why he wanted out so badly. His biological Mother had died when he was too young to understand, and his dad and brother had only ever claimed they’d left Korea for his dad’s work as a Hanahaki research specialist. First traveling to Israel and living there until he was five, then to the United States but when he’d turned eight years old they’d returned to Korea, and to Gwangju where his grandparents and their grandparents’ grandparents had been from. A long constant line of Lim children came from here and unless he could change that, it looked like his children would come from here too.

He wasn’t looking forward to the two-hour long train ride to Seoul for the competition tonight, but the battle, and the afterparty would no doubt be worth it. It always was, which was probably why his older brother always came with him under the pretense of giving their father peace of mind by watching his back. Yeah, he’d watch Changkyun’s back alright, Changkyun’s and every woman’s that walked by in a short skirt.

On the way home, he always passed an all-night convenience store that doubled as a flower shop before crossing the street to the bus stop, and taking the 5:00 pm bus three stops down to the residential area, and then walking the last four blocks to the path across from the train station, and walking up the stairs to the red wooden gate that separated his family’s yard from the street. Outside all you could really see is a wall with a few resilient strands of ivy and a couple of stubborn limbs that had overgrown the top of the wall to reach for the sunlight. Inside, however, there was a well-kept vegetable garden and a traditional style home that consisted of the main house and three separate structures that served as his and his brother’s bedroom, his dad’s room, and the largest belonged to his grandparents.

It was towards the main house that he was heading now. The sharp smell of spices and vegetables hit his nose and he knew his grandmother was making yukgaejang for dinner. The night was cool and peaceful with the light sound of his grandparents and his father’s voices coming from the open windows and screen door. He smiled a little and picked up his steps nearly falling sideways when his older brother came out of nowhere in particular and wrapped an arm around his neck like an oversized fishhook.

“So little brother, we going to Seoul again tonight?” His brother asked ruffling Changkyun’s hair as he often did knowing it annoyed the piss out of him.

“I’m going to Seoul, yeah. You don’t have to come with me.” Changkyun replied straightening his now mussed mop of hair before walking into the house and greeting his grandparents and father.

“You’re late.” His grandmother said stirring at the pot of food only to smack Changkyun’s brother on the knuckles when he grabbed a spoon from the drawer and attempted to scoop some of the soup out of the pot.

“Sorry Mamaw we were shorthanded again at the café.” He told her and plopped down none too gracefully at their kitchen table.

“Next time just call us. Your grandmother was worried and I’ve been busy so I can’t keep up with you kids all the time. Okay?” His father boredly muttered from where he was pouring over his notes in the corner of the large room.

“That’s enough of that. It is in the past. How about we all sit down and have some dinner? I think my one and only has out done herself this time boys,” his grandfather stood from where he had been watching TV to join Changkyun and his brother at the table. When their father made no move to leave his work the boys just rolled their eyes earning a stern look from their grandfather before he twisted to the side.

“Son that means you too.” He added only earning a noncommittal nod and the sound of more rustling pages. 

“Now Siwon! And I better not beat you to that table.” Grandma Lim ordered as she was leaving the kitchen holding the large pot careful not to burn herself on the sides.

“Honey give the man some slack he is working hard for his family.” His grandfather spoke sweetly to the woman who pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes at him in return.

“Don’t ‘honey’ me. You told him to come to the table he should come to the damn table. While you are at it Siwon grab bowls for everyone. It is only fair since you let the soup get colder.” She said her stern brown eyes zeroing in on the boys’ father as he was halfway to sitting down. Their father, Siwon, scoffed and earned a death glare from his father as well as his mother.

“Who taught you to scoff at your mother? Go get the bowls before I grab them and beat you over the head with it for disrespecting my one and only like that. Geez make me lose my appetite to see that.” Their grandfather grumbled and the two boys barely managed to stifle their laughter. Their grandfather looked up and started chuckling lightly himself and shook his head.

When their grandmother started giggling herself and the sounds of their father grumbling like a scolded child hit their ears they couldn’t help the laughter that bubbled out of them in the hysteria of it all. His father was even laughing when he came back into the room and sat down at the table taking care to hand the individual bowls to the boys’ grandmother. Her sleeve stretched up revealing a small cluster of flowers tattooed on her wrist and Changkyun smiled as he looked over to his grandfather who had an identical mark on his hand. It was a sign that the two were destined for each other. It was their soulmate mark and it would be there forever. It had always struck Changkyun as a reminder that he had purpose on this planet. Those two people met so that his parents could fall in love and bring them all together for moments like this.  It also made him wonder something about his father now that he thought about it, but he knew better than to ask about his mom.

“Thanks, mamaw the soup is amazing. I think grandpa was right about it. You’ve outdone yourself.”  Changkyun said grinning.

“Hasn’t anyone ever taught you that sucking up to people is a bad thing.” Their father teased his youngest son and the rest of the table laughed at the embarrassed grimace on Changkyun’s face. Times like these made him happier as a father than anything. Both Changkyun and Jaehwan were technically adults now, and he felt a familiar mix of sadness and anger that their mother hadn’t been there to witness it mix in with his happiness.

“Dad is everything okay?” His youngest son looked at him with concern when He accidentally set his spoon down a little too hard.

“It’s fine. Finish your food. Don’t you boys have a competition to get to?” Siwon asked pointing at the off-center clock behind them.

“Crap. Come on you idiot we’re going to be late!” Changkyun practically swatted the spoon out of Jaehwan’s hand and snatched up his jacket rushing out the door. The train station was back past where he worked and if they missed the train to Seoul they missed the competition because another one wouldn’t show for two hours.

The two boys ran as fast as their legs would carry them whooping and hollering all the way down towards the train station.  A few times one or the other would even stumble earning a taunt from his brother, but they made it with mere moments to spare.

“We almost missed the train because of your slow ass you know.” Jaehwan teased.

“Me? I’m not the one who crashed into the convenience store’s trash cans.” Changkyun threw back at him laughing at the memory of having to drag his brother away from where the clerk had been beating him with a broom for knocking the cans over.

“Hey, come on, That doesn’t count! You pushed me into it! Aish cramping my style before we even get to the club.” He complained shoving at the younger boy trying to throw him off balance from where he was holding the bar.

“The falling into the trash can made you smell better. I don’t see how you can wear that cologne and still get a date. Also, ‘cramping my style’? what are you 40?” Changkyun replied shrugging and tightening his grip so he didn’t fall on the woman sleeping in the seats behind him. Her light snores showed that she was resting peacefully, and remembering the last time they’d been on the train with her and woken her up the last thing he wanted to do was wake her again.

“So, who are you supposed to be going against tonight little brother?” Jaehwan asked. The woman stirred behind them at the almost too loud question and they both winced.

“I don’t know. Mark again and some guy named Jooheon I think. He’s new, but the rumor is he’s been tearing his way up the underground scene and is no joke. You actually going to watch this time or are you meeting up with that girl from last time?” Changkyun’s voice held a teasing air to it and he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively when he mentioned the girl from last time. A loud snort of laughter burst from his brother and he joined in with his own loud rumbling laughter.

“There are people trying to sleep you brats! Do you kids have no manners?!” the formerly sleeping woman’s shrill voice came from behind them earning a loud yelp, and Changkyun clumsily scrambling away because he was startled. His brother only laughed harder and Changkyun hit him over the head.

The train finally came to a stop at the right station and the two of them scrambled off still mumbling apologies to the woman in between fits of laughter and shoving each other around. If you would have asked her she’d deny it, but Changkyun could have sworn there had been a small amused smile on her face when they got off the car.

When they arrived at the right club Changkyun went over to where the other rappers were and was met by a loud and cheerful greeting.

“I.M. you made it. We were beginning to worry you’d finally chickened out.”  Mingyu said clasping his hand and giving him a short hug before letting him regain his balance.

“Not a chance.” Changkyun replied and grinned.

“I don’t know man if I were going to pick a night to back out it would be tonight. I heard you’re facing Yoongi for the final if you beat Jooheon. I’m telling you I.M he freaking mopped the floor with Vernon last week.” Mingyu stage whispered and Vernon leveled him with a glare. Mingyu just smiled at his best friend and Vernon turned back to the pretty brunette girl that he was talking to. Changkyun thought that he noticed the flash of a flower on Vernon’s arm and saw a mark on the girl next to him.

“Did Vern get marked?” He asked looking closer at the way that the two of them were standing together.

“Yeah, stupid idiot is always losing things. Last week he lost his wallet at a coffee shop and that girl Jennie came running out after him, and now here we are. I mean would you look at that sap? If I hadn’t mentioned the battle against Jooheon he would have never looked up at us.” Mingyu replied. This time his voice was kept low and serious. The marks weren’t something that people really talked about often. Not after high school when they all learned the real cost of being tied to someone else and what could happen if it all went wrong.

“At least he’s happy. I mean some people never meet their soulmate. That’s got to be worse, right?  We should practice. I heard you have to go against Jooheon before he can get to me and I have to get past that guy Mark.” Changkyun changed the subject not wanting to get further on the subject of incompletes.

“Yeah. Jeez they really are trying to knock you out of the competing circles, tonight, aren’t they? I mean I knew about Jooheon and Agust D, but Mark too? Shit if you get past this you deserve Yoongi’s spot. Let’s just hope your brother can keep out of trouble tonight.” Vernon had finally escaped his soulmate long enough to catch up with the others and had just barely heard Changkyun mention Mark’s name.

“I’m not worried. I mean Mark’s good, but he only just barely beat Coups last time. It’s Yoongi I’m not too sure I can take head to head.” Changkyun admitted.

“If what Vernon’s been telling me is true if anyone can beat Yoongi its you, or Namjoon. I mean I think Lisa could at least take BamBam, but since she’s in the girl’s competition that would be a challenge.” A girl’s sweet voice hit Changkyun’s ears and he turned around.

“Oh, sorry guys this is Jennie. She’s my soulmate. Hey Mingyu, I just found out that her and a friend have been performing in the girl’s competition for the past month. I can’t believe we didn’t meet before yesterday, can you?” Vernon asked. Mingyu rolled his eyes at Vernon’s excited tone and gesturing. It really wasn’t like Vern to be this animated, but Changkyun couldn’t bring himself to stop him. It was clear though that if Mingyu had to hear about Jennie one more time he was going to explode. Mingyu hadn’t known Vernon all his life but for the last few years of high school and starting university the two had been inseparable brothers and Changkyun guessed that having Vernon be all about Jennie wasn’t going to be easy on him.

“Hey Vern, me and Mingyu are going to head over to the stage area Minhyuk should start calling for competitors soon.” Changkyun said interrupting his friend’s boisterous monologue about his soulmate.

“Oh… right. Do you guys want me to come with you?” Vernon looked over his shoulder at Jennie where she was waiting.

“Nah man. You go have fun with your girl. Come on Mings we got battles to win.” Changkyun chuckled a little and slung an arm over Mingyu’s shoulder before heading towards the stage.

“Hey Mingyu, I.M.!” Vernon called out over the crowd noise and the two turned back to look at him.

“Thanks, I owe you one!” He shouted again and gave a wide smile before running over and lifting the small woman up in his arms and kissing her like she held the very air he breathed.

“Come on let’s leave them to it man.” Changkyun said turning the younger boy back to their destination.

“Are you guys ready or not?!” A higher pitched male voice rang out over the crowd then spurred loud cheering. Changkyun had to resist the urge to laugh at his friend’s mc skills. To be honest even though he was a great radio host Minhyuk didn’t really suit the rap battle MC type. As far as Changkyun could tell he didn’t particularly like it either, but you did what you had to do to pay the bills right? It was the same reason that Changkyun himself had two part-time jobs. All he really wanted was to be a songwriter but instead he was a barista, and a motorcycle delivery person.

“Okay, okay, will you settle down please? Now before I introduce the first competitors I have to welcome back our reigning champions. As for our first champion she is a special lady who goes harder than some of the men I know and most definitely the Queen of hearts here ladies and gentlemen can I get a big round of applause for our baddest female, CL!!!” Minhyuk announced the woman and she came out smiling brightly at the crowd wearing a fuzzy oversized coat and heels, but not much else.

“You know if I hadn’t heard her myself I would have never guessed.” Mingyu leaned in next to Changkyun and earned a laugh from the older boy. Mingyu did have a point though this girl didn’t seem like much of a threat at first glance, but looks were deceiving in her case.

“Alright. Alright boys calm yourselves her soulmate is in the world somewhere,” Minhyuk said earning the laughter of the crowd.

 “Okay next up, though he lacks a little in the dancing department he makes up for it by being the dimpled cutie who’s a monster on the mic please welcome back RM!!!!!!” At the sound of his name a guy with a swaggered walk and a pair of sunglasses covering his eyes came up on stage. During the daytime if you crossed him he was usually in a suit, but now he was wearing a baggy t-shirt and jeans with holes in the knee and a pair of bright red converse high-top shoes. His hair was a dirty blond color now instead of the purple shade it had been a couple weeks before and Changkyun thought this color suited him better.

“Okay not to cut things short but we do have a battle to get to so its time to introduce the last of our underground champions. A couple months ago he was the new kid that knocked T.O.P out of his underground king title with his tongue technology and he is still killing it as the fastest rapper with the smile sweet as sugar. Ladies and bros Agust D!!!!” Minhyuk introduced and what he said next was overtaken by cheers. I.M. and Mingyu whooped and hollered along with the rest of them. Back stage everyone supported each other and had even grown to be friends, but once he hit that stage Yoongi would be his competition and nothing more. Yoongi was shorter than RM, but he was still a full head taller than the tiny framed man that he called his soulmate. He’d dyed his hair white again recently. At this rate he was sure to have it fall out, but who was Changkyun to judge?

After a few more jokes and chatter from the champions on stage Minhyuk finally moved to announce the first round of challengers. The first up were Vernon and Jackson, followed by J-hope and S-Coups, then Mingyu and Jooheon hit the stage, and finally it was his turn to face off against Mark. Minhyuk passed him on the way down and patted him on the shoulder.

“Hey Kyunnie, one more thing,” Minhyuk called before he made it to the top step.

“What’s that?” Changkyun asked with a light scoff.

“You lose this round to Tuan and you are making me Minnie Mochas for the next month while I replay the video of your dumbstruck face.” Minhyuk gave him the biggest smile and laughed a little and Changkyun couldn’t help, but laugh with him.

“Call, but just for that you little shit if I beat him no more Minnie Mochas for the next two months.” Changkyun said, saluted, and ran up the rest of the stares with his friend still floundering like a fish behind him. Minhyuk had grown up with him in Gwangju and when the two of them started high school they met Kihyun who had turned out to be the missing piece to an already perfect friendship. A few years passed and when graduation came around Kihyun got an internship with a photography company in Seoul and Minhyuk moved to an apartment up there as well to be closer to the college. The offer had always been there for Changkyun to move with him, but about the time he was going to his grandfather became sick and could no longer run the café, so he continued his classes online and took up the slack. It wasn’t his dream, but he was happy running things from the background and being able to help his family. He made it up to where Mark was standing and gave him a cocky sort of smirk.

“Heads or tails man.” The DJ asked him. He was about to answer when he heard someone cussing and his brother’s voice telling the guy to calm down. He looked over just in time to see Jae get clocked in the jaw. Damn it. Why did he have to be like this?

“Mark your win. I forfeit.” He hopped off the stage, and ran headlong shoving between the crowd until he reached the guy who was now on top of his brother slamming his fist down hard into his face.

“Jae when are you ever going to learn?”  He asked, and the girl’s boyfriend paused his pride defending overkill to look back at him.

“Get lost pipsqueak this doesn’t concern you.” The stranger stood, and he was taller and wider than Changkyun had originally expected. Fuck. This wasn’t going to be easy.

“Now see, that’s where you’re wrong, I just had to forfeit the first round because you and your dumb ass friends here attacked my brother over a girl who isn’t even your soulmate. It’s sad, really, if she was willing to let my brother cross the line over a drink she’d leave you in a heartbeat.”  He’d leaned up against the bar and adopted a mocking tone.  The big man looked at his girlfriend whose eyes shifted filled with guilt at being caught.  While the big guy was focused on her Changkyun moved to help his brother off the ground. Minhyuk and his friend Kihyun came over to help and a crowd of curious club goers was already starting to form wondering why Changkyun had left the stage.

“You’d really leave me just like that?” The guy demanded shock clear in his voice and all thoughts of Jaehwan or Changkyun leaving his mind. She used it as an opportunity and wrapped her arms around his waist with a sweet smile.

“Of course not, baby. Are you really going to believe that smart mouthed pipsqueak over me?” She asked turning the tables and giving changkyun a devilish smirk when he got caught trying to get his brother away from them. Shit.

“Why can’t you ever find a nice small-town girl in the café you idiot? Min, Ki, take him, will you?” Changkyun passed his brother off to the two of them and turned around to face the guy who was now seething. His girlfriend had her hands on his waist standing behind him now, and two of his friends who’d watched the entire affair were now moving from their drinks at the bar and preparing to get up if he even looked like he would lose the fight. Why did idiots like this come in threes?

“You really want to start a fight like this? Three on one?” he asked trying to gauge what Jolly green was going to throw at him first.   The first thing he felt was a heavy thud right into his chest as he was tackled. The two of them went careening back towards the bar and stools were being knocked over almost faster than the patrons could climb out of them to get out of harms way. Even with that Changkyun had luckily been able to get the upper hand feeling flesh and bone shift between the punches and returns that each of them were throwing. He was getting hauled off the guy when others started to join the fight in his defense. Vernon on one side with Jennie watching worriedly from the crowd with what had to be Lisa holding her back and a guy he didn’t recognize. He couldn’t really see the other guy all that well just a tuft of blond hair and broad shoulders, but the fight broke out again with a vengeance as more people got involved trying to either protect their friends or their girlfriends from being hurt.

All Changkyun really could focus on was staying upright and not getting hit again. Everywhere he would turn it seemed like another person was there with a flying fist and a problem with him because they were friends with that first guy. He was busy blocking a hit that was meant for his jaw when something hard slammed into his ribs throwing him and the man who’d tried to hit him off balance. This time though instead of his friends a bouncer was the one to help him up. He and his brother along with the initial three were escorted to the door nursing injuries and being fretted over by different women and friends.

The owner followed them all out to the door and stopped just inside the frame. “I should press charges but since nothing but a couple of glasses were broken and none of the patrons or staff were hurt to badly consider this a warning. All of you are banned for two weeks. If after that I see any of you in here causing trouble that’s it. I will stop allowing these events to be held here. Do you understand?” He asked crossing his arms. Each of them glanced between each other and nodded. Any fight they had was settled inside the club. Now all they wanted to do was get home and nurse their injuries.

When Changkyun woke up the next morning everything ached, and his head was pounding as he stumbled out of bed. Was it just him or had that alarm clock gotten louder? He didn’t think he’d had that many drinks the night before. In fact, he only remembered having the one before the battle had started and then all hell broke loose. Damn his brother for his uncanny ability to charm women and his short temper. He really couldn’t take him anywhere at this rate. Gravel crunched under Changkyun’s shoes as he headed from his bedroom to the main house where he could hear food cooking in the kitchen, and music on the radio pouring out the door. That’s weird his grandmother hated having the volume up that high. Come to think of it he hadn’t seen his brother when he woke up that morning so maybe it was him in the kitchen.

                “Well if it isn’t Mike Tyson himself.” His brother teased when he walked in.

                “Dude can you turn that thing down? If Grandma Lim hears that we’re both dead.” Changkyun pointed to the radio and frowned when his brother looked at him like he was crazy.

                “Earth to idiot. The radio is too loud.” Changkyun repeated and snapped his fingers in front of his brother’s face.

                “Changkyun the radio is almost all the way off. How hard did you get hit last night?” The second Jaehwan told him about the radio it was like a switch flipped in his mind and all the sounds that had been too loud to bear before were a mere static in the background.

                “Whatever little brother, hey while you’re standing there can you put the spices back in the cabinet?” His brother said pointing to a series of vials and jars that went into the overhead cabinet to Changkyun’s left.

                “Yeah, sure thing.” The younger boy said. Changkyun picked up a few of them and moved to put them up when a sharp pain wracked through his left side and into his chest making it hard to breathe for a moment. The bottles clattered back to the counter and his brother rushed to his side.

“Are you alright? What the hell just happened? Changkyun? Changkyun!” His brother’s eyes filled with panic as he yanked and twisted him trying to figure out why his arms would just give out like that.

“My ribs.” Changkyun wheezed. It felt like someone had stuffed a sub-woofer in his chest and turned the bass all the way up the way his muscles and nerves were throbbing.

“What?!” His brother’s worried demand warred with the sound of his pulse in his ears. Oh god he was going to pass out if this kept up. Broken ribs didn’t normally hurt this bad. He tried remembering the last time he’d had a rib injury in a taekwondo class when he was a kid. It had hurt, but he hadn’t blacked out from it. Why did this feel different, and why this morning instead of when he got hit last night?  This was insane, right? What’s…. going… on? His mind slowed, and he registered one last thing, it felt too warm. Everything was too warm, and he felt like there was a weight laying on him, and it was all way too freaking warm. Then, after a moment that seemed to stretch out too long everything went black.

There was a sharp smell irritating his nose. He blinked a couple times and tried to pull away from whatever was making that acid sting in his nostrils. When Changkyun finally opened his eyes, and focused he was met by the worried faces of his family.

“Welcome back to the land of the living. Can you tell me your name?” A bright voice met his ears and he turned to face a woman in an EMT uniform. Decaf mocha with two pumps of caramel. His mind registered where he’d heard her voice before as the fog was clearing from his head. She had light brown hair, chocolate colored eyes and usually wore nurse’s scrubs when she came in. Her name was Bora or something like that.

“Lim Changkyun. What happened?”  Changkyun looked around again absorbing the details of the emergency crew and his family member’s worried expressions scattered around the kitchen.

“Honestly I was hoping you could tell us that. Your brother said you were complaining about a pain in your ribs when you collapsed.” She prompted no doubt trying to get him to remember the events from before he wound up on the floor.

“Yeah, last night Jae and I went to an event in Seoul. I got into a fight and someone elbowed me in the ribs. I didn’t think anything of it for real. I mean I was winded when it happened, so I probably could’ve gotten it checked out. My brother and I were both tired, and it was late, so we came home instead.” Changkyun muttered trying to remember everything that happened from the night before.

“Mind if I look?” She asked pointing to his shirt. He nodded then   winced when her fingers and the fabric from the shirt scraped across his tender skin and earned a sympathetic look from the male EMT that had come with Bora.

“Whoever it was they got you pretty good.” The male EMT chuckled a little trying to lighten the mood when he saw the bruise, but he earned a glare from Changkyun’s grandmother instead.

“Apparently. I can’t say anything for sure, but it looks like you have a small contusion on your ribs.” Bora said looking at the place with concern and consideration.

“A what now?” His brother asked.

“It means his ribs are bruised.” Changkyun’s father was the one to explain and Changkyun could see his grandparents visibly relax upon finding out that he wasn’t seriously injured.

“That’s correct, but I think I know why it affected him so strongly as well. Has anything else happened this morning since you woke up?” Bora asked him waiting for the answer and bobbing a little to keep her legs from giving out in the crouched position she was still in from waking him.  She was going through the motions now checking the rest of him for the signs of a concussion or another injury that could have been caused by the fall this morning instead of the fight from the night prior.

“Like what?” Changkyun looked at his dad hoping that he could clear up what she was really trying to ask, but his father only shrugged.

“like a sound that isn’t normally noticeable being obnoxiously loud, or something you normally like eating tasting different, or even a light being too bright for your eyes.” Bora said.

“No? I mean there was that incident with the alarm clock and the radio this morning, and that weird moment before I passed out, but so what? I had a couple of drinks last night and was a little hung over this morning.” Changkyun shrugged. She giggled a little when he said the bit about being hung over and Changkyun could feel his annoyance bubbling up.  

“Is there a point to these questions?” His grandfather finally spoke up. Changkyun had watched him shift back and forth for the past couple of minutes eyes glancing around at the different people and the urge to check on Changkyun for himself plain on the older man’s face. His grandfather didn’t like hospitals, and if Changkyun was being honest with himself, having all these EMTs and the equipment in his home couldn’t be making his grandfather any more comfortable with the idea.

“There is sir. Your grandson’s mark has appeared.” The woman replied. She was smiling like she’d expected them all to be happy, but the smile faltered when she was only met with pure and utter shock.

“What?! No… no it didn’t. How could it? I would’ve known if I… If they… There are signs for this type of thing! I wouldn’t have left the club if I had… if they had…” He was trying to breathe in between the words and panic that kept coming in waves. Changkyun had to grit his teeth against the pain when he twisted to see the place on his side where she was looking. Sure enough, there in the middle of all the reddish discoloring of the bruise was the image of a single red rose in full bloom.  Great. He hated roses.

Changkyun tried to search his mind for when he could have gotten the mark, and who could have the match to it, but the night be for had been an overwhelming blur of possible answers. Not only had he gotten elbowed there by god only knows who, but his friends, and girls he’d never even met had been surrounding him and making sure he was okay. Those were just the ones he remembered. There were probably countless others from the time he’d arrived at the club with his brother to the time he left. Changkyun couldn’t hold himself like that any longer and remain conscious so he just let himself flop back against the cabinet groaning in protest against the shift of his weight around the injured muscle and the throbbing that was echoed by the sound of his pulse in his ears.

“Why does it feel like this? I feel like I went three rounds in a ring with that MMA fighter from Seoul, and lost.” Changkyun laughed off his embarrassment at still sitting on the floor with the joke.

“To be honest it could be any number of things, but my best guess is that the person who gave you the bruise is your soulmate. To be honest though it seems like the injury isn’t severe so if you don’t think you need to come with us to the hospital we can leave you and your family to talk.” Bora smiled at him and waited for a moment. Changkyun thought about it then shook his head.

“I’m good. I’ll make sure to save you a Decaf Mocha at the café next time you come by.” Changkyun said then held a hand out to his brother who moved to help him stand.

“Thanks. I guess we’ll get going then. It seems like you all have a lot to discuss. If you have any more problems don’t be afraid to come by the hospital or go to a clinic to get checked up. In the mean time I would suggest calling work and letting them know that you can’t work anything harder than the register for the next couple of days. It will be too overwhelming for you right now because of the bond. Come on Taeil.” Bora said standing and walking out the door with the other EMT in tow. She moved her fingers through her hair and shifted some behind her ear where Changkyun noticed a small baby’s breath mark by her ear. So, she did know what he was going through. He didn’t have to wonder long about who her soulmate could be when he looked up and saw the way that her partner, Taeil, looked at her. He looked at her like she carried all the answers to the world and the smile she returned to him could have rivaled the sun in Taeil’s eyes. The two of them left with a wave, but not another word. The door slid home behind them and Changkyun breathed a sigh of relief that the pain was no longer blinding, and he was back to just hearing the normal buzz of the house.

“Who was it?” Changkyun’s father was the first to break the silence.

“What?” Changkyun asked. He was still feeling confused and with the door closed there was now a sharp acrid smell filling the kitchen. Jaehwan must have burnt whatever it was he’d been cooking earlier.

“Your soulmate. Who is it?” His father asked again getting his familiar ‘work scowl’ as Changkyun had come to recognize it.

“I don’t know.” Changkyun said.

“It’s your soulmate how can you ‘not know’?” His father pressed.

“Dad, last night was a bit of a mess. I got into a fight and it got out of-” Jaehwan started trying to defend his little brother, but his father raised a hand silencing him.

“Changkyun. Think about it carefully. Who hit you? Was it a woman? A man?”

“I don’t know dad. I mean seriously I just found out my rib isn’t actually broken and that I have a giant rose on my side. Look I need some air. I’ll see you when I get home.” Changkyun said walking towards the door.

“How can you just not know?!” His father repeated his voice raising. Changkyun stopped in the door frame and turned back around.

                “I just don’t, alright? Do you know how many times I had someone touch that spot last night? I sure as hell don’t! Jesus this wasn’t even my fault. If Jaehwan hadn’t gotten in the fight with that girl’s boyfriend I wouldn’t have jumped in and we’d be having a normal Saturday morning right now,” Changkyun snapped.

                “Don’t talk to your father like that.” His Grandmother defended.

                “Whatever, I have to call work anyway. I was supposed to drive today, but that is apparently out of the question now.” Changkyun replied then walked out of the door dialing his phone as he went. When his boss for the delivery service finally let him off for the day and he made sure to check that he actually was off the schedule at the café that day he plopped down on the floor to his room. He had already rolled up the sleeping mat and that left the floor bare and a few sparse pieces of furniture around the room in a sort of spot the difference mirror image of each other one side for him and the other for his older brother Jaehwan. A soulmate. Somewhere out there his soulmate was either sitting there just like he was wondering what went wrong or… No he refused to think like that. His soulmate would be missing him too and wracking their brain for his face the way he was for theirs. Maybe he could call the club? His thumb hesitated over the dial button after he searched the number up but he eventually just exited out and let out a cry of frustration. There was a knock on the door and he thought his eardrums were going to bust.

                “hey! Do you have to be so loud; what the hell?!” Changkyun demanded. His brother opened the door and he heard a distinct creak in the hinges that he hadn’t noticed before. Probably because he hadn’t been mutating like an X-men character at the time.

                “Thought you might want some water.” His brother was whispering, Changkyun could tell from the way his voice sounded, but that was the only indicator since he sounded as loud as he normally did. This would get annoying quickly. Changkyun thought to himself not noticing that he couldn’t hear or wasn’t paying attention to what Jaehwan had said.

 “Water? Geez even with bionic hearing you don’t listen.” Jaehwan muttered.

“Sorry, and yeah sure I’d love some.” Changkyun held his arm out reaching for the bottle. His brother handed it to him then plopped down next to him and opened his bottle taking a large drink from it. Changkyun moved to do the same and before he could get the cap off it felt like his hand was burning as if he’d spilled coffee on it.

“Ah! Ah ah ah! Damn it!” He dropped the bottle and water spilled all over his shirt and jeans making them stick to his skin in odd places.

“What happened?” Jaehwan said running to get a towel and moping up the spill before it could soak into the wood. Changkyun was busy blowing on his hand and shaking it trying to get it to cool off, and stop stinging when he could have sworn he heard the distinct sound of someone muttering about the tv volume and their girlfriend waking up. Staring at the bottle of water in confusion something his soulmate education class teacher had said finally dawned on him. His soulmate. That person spilled coffee on themselves. Maybe that explained what he’d felt earlier too.

“Am I supposed to have all this weird shit happening to me at one time?” He looked to his brother like he might have some answers, but there was nothing.

“How the hell should I know? As far as I’m concerned besides dad, and grandma and grandpa Lim, you are the expert here. What are you going to do about finding your soulmate? I don’t exactly think running around Seoul lifting your shirt up is going to work,” Jaewhan said. Changkyun laughed at the thought and sighed when his ribs throbbed in response.

“Anyway, at least I know one thing. Whoever it is likes coffee.” He kept the part about the girlfriend to himself not wanting to alarm his brother, or bring up the possibility that his soulmate was either male or a lesbian. He hated the idea of having someone bound to him that would never be able to love him.  “It happened sometimes,” his dad had told him once when he asked, but had refused to answer when Changkyun asked what happened to those people.

Working in the Hanahaki Reasearch and Treatment Foundation his father knew all too well what happened when soul bonds went horribly horribly wrong. It didn’t happen often enough that it was a real threat to public health, but it did happen. Hanahaki, or the Blossom Disease as some called it, was the result of a damaged soul bond. It caused the afflicted person to have an excess of flower petals in the lungs until there were too many to breathe and they suffocated. There was also an even rarer strain of the disease that had a completely different effect on the afflicted person, but there had only ever been one record of that strain and it remained incomplete because the doctor writing it had been her own subject in that case and died in a freak car accident before she could complete her work. Some people just had rotten luck.

“Yo, Kyunnie you even listening?” His brother smacked him on the arm and he glared before realizing that he’d gotten lost in his train of thought again.

“What?” He asked delayed like he usually was when he had been thinking too hard about something.

“How do you know they like coffee?” Jaehwan asked again.

“My hand. It felt like I got burned by a coffee spill. My teacher in high school mentioned something about feeling things that your soulmate feels. I think that person spilled coffee or something on their hand.” Changkyun told him.

“dude that’s got to suck. What if she gets on her time of the month? Or when you two have kids?” Leave it to Jaehwan to think about these things. Right now though all Changkyun could think about was what the club owner said. Banned for two weeks. How was he supposed to find that person if he couldn’t return to the place he lost them?

Jooheon woke up feeling too warm. His hair was sticking to his neck and his lungs couldn’t seem to get enough room to inhale quite the way he needed to get oxygen. His ribs felt bruised and tender and something was weighing down on him and keeping him pinned to the bed. He opened his eyes and realized that the unfamiliar weight was that of his girlfriend’s body.

“what the hell?” he muttered and shifted to sit up. She grumbled and rolled off of him and hugged onto the pillow on her other side like always without even waking up to register what she was doing.   He took in a giant lungful of air and slumped against the cool headboard reveling in the cool air that had taken her place. It was strange. He couldn’t remember ever overheating this badly when he slept with her. Not since the first few nights before they’d really started dating, but they hadn’t actually slept much during that time either.

He smiled down at her when a too loud snore escaped her sleeping for then decided he would go and make coffee knowing full well that she and his roommates would be sluggish without it. He didn’t mind rooming with Hoseok and Hyeonwoo and he loved having his girlfriend stay over, but without the coffee as a peace offering the three of them were intolerable. Some mornings she was sluggish without that first cup of coffee and he found it adorable, but others those cute sluggish mornings were sharp barbs, and whines that the others were a waste of his time. Then the inevitable of his friends telling him they didn’t get why he stayed with her if she was such a bitch as soon as she left for work always followed. He would rather deal with the bitter tasting kisses to that any day.

After he got the coffee started he turned on the TV to the usual news channel and almost broke the remote trying to turn it back off. God which one of those assholes turned it up so loud if he woke Joy now she’d never calm down. He tried turning it on again ready to mute it so that he could turn the volume down but found there was no need. The volume was barely audible above the bubbling of the coffee pot.  

A door creaked from across the apartment and his roommate’s pale muscular chest came into view from the door. A towel was wrapped around his waist and his hair was damp. He wandered into the kitchen and stuck a bagel in the toaster then nodded at Jooheon.

“Jesus Wonho put some clothes on, will you? Joy is sleeping in my room.” Jooheon said finally focusing on what his best friend was, or rather wasn’t wearing.

“You’re just worried that if she sees all of this she’s going to leave you.” Hoseok teased walking back around to the toaster and catching the bagel as it popped into the air from the toaster and took a bite wiggling his eyebrows at Jooheon.

“Trust me her leaving me after seeing your pale ass is the least of my worries. Her going blind might be a more likely worry. Here take this and clothes.” Jooheon said passing a mug of coffee to his friend and shoving him lightly in the direction of his room. It was quiet once again and he started mixing up the ingredients for pancakes when the front door opened.

“Nice run?” Jooheon looked up from the pancakes to his other roommate. Shownu nodded and took a large drink from his water bottle. The MMA fighter always woke up ahead of everyone he had to train and stay in shape even when he wasn’t scheduled to fight. Hyunwoo was quiet compared to Hoseok and Jooheon supposed that was why this whole arrangement worked out. The only thing that disrupted it in the others’ opinion was Joy. At the thought of her passing through Jooheon’s mind she wandered into the room. She was a sight even rumpled from sleep she’d thrown on one of his t-shirts before coming out and it brushed delicately against her thighs almost like the designer dresses she favored so much. He was distracted from what he was doing, and coffee splashed over the top of the mug burning his hand.

“Ah shit!” The mug clattered to the ground and coffee spilled everywhere. He shook what was left of the rapidly cooling liquid off his hand damage already done and walked over to the sink to rinse the burn.

                “What happened?” She had run to the edge of the kitchen and was looking at the mess and Jooheon with concern.

                “I just burned my hand that’s all. No need to worry. Don’t step in here though, okay? I don’t want you to cut your foot on the glass.” Jooheon said his hand still under the running water.

“Okay I won’t, but Jooheonie do you mind pouring up some more coffee? I don’t want to be mean, but you did just tell me to stay out of the kitchen.”  She leaned over the counter a little and batted her eyelashes at him. Shownu rolled his eyes and just joined Jooheon in the kitchen poured up a mug of coffee and handed it to her without a word. She gave him an annoyed look, but took the mug anyway and sashayed her way back into Jooheon’s room.

                “why do you let her treat you like that man? You’re her boyfriend not a slave.” Hyunwoo asked breaking his silence and bending down to help Jooheon get the bigger pieces of glass.

                “What am I supposed to do man? Wait for my soulmate to just pop out of thin air? I can’t do that. I can’t wait for someone who may be a million miles away.” Joheon said. Even as he said it he wondered if he would ever find that person. Everyone had someone, but his father’s drunken words came back to haunt him. Who in their right mind would love someone like you?

#heaven in a wildflower #Monsta X #monsta x fanfic

[the-record-columns]

March 20, 2019: Columns

Out of the ashes: An old radio from an old and dear friend…

The 1930 Crosley console radio

By KEN WELBORN

Record Publisher

At this past Monday night's meeting of the Rotary Club of North Wilkesboro, Dr. Conrad Shaw was honored with this year’s Rotary Club Citizen of the Year Award. 

This much deserved award was received by Dr. Shaw with thankfulness and humility as he was literally surrounded by family and friends.

On a personal level, Conrad Shaw was the principal of the North Wilkesboro Elementary  School for 14 years, eight of them when I was a student there.  He was the nearest thing to God-on-this-Earth I ever knew--running a very tight ship--tough, but always fair.  And, when we left the 8th Grade for high school, we could read, write, count, and knew we had better behave.  No if's, no and's, no but's, no or's, no nor’s - PERIOD!

We were none the worse for the wear, either   

Many years later, I helped launch Thursday Magazine, predecessor to The Record.  I used the old Hoyle Hutchens house on E Street in North Wilkesboro for our offices, and it became a refuge for anything old, odd, or eclectic.  Among my favorite things in that office was my old radios.  Over the years I had bought everything from a coin-operated radio in a metal case to a wide variety of other radios out of everything from Bakelite cases to some with beautiful woodwork.  

The one common thread through all these radios was Conrad Shaw, who had become a dear friend in my adult life.  After he left NWES, he worked the rest of his education career at Wilkes Community College, He retired in 1995 and made a hobby of restoring old radios--a hobby which meshed perfectly with mine.  Over a period of time he has repaired and or restored nine radios for me.  When we had that awful fire in 2004, all of them burned up.  Not too long after the fire Conrad asked me about the radios and I told him they were all lost.

Around Christmas time of that year, I received a phone call from Conrad asking me to stop by and see him. Of course I was glad to, and even more so when I realized why he had called.  Sitting in his basement workshop was a beautiful 1930 Crosley console radio.  Conrad plugged it in and in about 30 seconds it was playing perfectly. He went on to explain the steps he had gone through in restoring the radio to its original working condition, and that it came from the home of the late musician and historian J. Jay Anderson. I told Conrad about some of the things I had purchased from that estate and my own somewhat quirky relationship with the eccentric Mr. Anderson. 

"I knew you had purchased several things from there," Conrad began. “And you had told me you had lost most of your radios in that fire. To That end, I want to make this old Crosley console a gift to you.  You can now say you are back to collecting radios again."

I was, and am, more pleased than I can say in words. Yes, I love the old radio, but more importantly, I love being thought of.  It is a wonderful feeling — the feeling of friendship I feel when Conrad makes one of his visits to the offices of The Record.

Truly, Conrad Shaw has been good to me my whole life — even before I knew it.

Congratulations again on being Rotary's Citizen of the Year, a much deserved honor.

 Time After Time By HEATHER DEAN  JOURNALIST/PHOTO JOURNALIST

Generation X: We were the most radical in so many ways. Atari was in three colors, we pulled down the Berlin wall, TV shows and movies were all original (there was no need for remakes or reality TV), the music was full of synthesizers and wicked cool guitar riffs. We were making history in all genres, especially in the areas of the World Wide Web. Star Wars was everything good in life, and the effects were cutting edge technology. David Hasselhoff was the coolest guy ever.

Fast forward to 2019. We the teens of the 80’s are now parents and some even grandparents. Cars can’t fly like we had planned, but they can talk like KITT. We hold palm sized computers in our hands, and can speak or text anyone in the world in an instant. All our Sci-Fi fantasies turned into term papers and valedictorian speeches of our well laid plans for the future, have turned into distant memories, like the fog at a Bon Jovi concert- palpable then gone.

Last week the best of the 80’s were brought back for a weekend as the Wilkes Playmakers presented the hit musical “Back to the 80’s.” All the characters had heartthrob names: Corey, Tiffany, Debbie, Ferris, Eillen, and Alf. The nerd learned karate kid moves and took down the bully at the end. The kids sang songs by WHAM, Madonna, The Buggles, Cindy Lauper, and Jefferson Starship to name just a few. (My favorite was a reference to Milli Vannili.)

During rehearsals, we had to explain why some of their lines were so funny to us, the parents. The kids just didn’t get it. Some of them had never seen the iconic movies they were playing out on stage. The Breakfast who? What’s an Atari? They had never known a time without cell phones and they certainly didn’t know the struggle to create the perfect mix tape.

So here our theatre kids were, learning 80’s dance moves, and songs, albeit with eyes rolled the first few weeks of rehearsal. Then came time for costuming; the girls were mortified at the shoulder pads, blue eye shadow, everything neon, and big hair. As they filed in for dress rehearsal I squealed and said “Oh. Em. Gee. You look AMAZING!!!” They were spot on with the help of moms who lived it. “Heather, we look stupid. I can’t believe y’all wore this mess. It’s so gross.” But that ‘gag me with a spoon’ sentiment soon led into a love of everything glossy and hot pink and was replaced with “hang on, you need more blush” and “is my hair big enough?’ Pass the Aquanet please.”

Our kids had struggled at first, but in the ‘final countdown’ they had morphed into GenX, and it showed. A packed Thursday night rarely happens, and we had to use overflow parking down the street at the First Baptist Church for every performance. Saturday sold out, something that hasn’t happened in a decade, and Sunday’s show was almost sold out, another rarity. These kids were now the history makers, as the audiences cheered and sang along with the live band. Many even dressed up in 80’s regalia to attend the show.

One night, as we were all in the dressing room helping the girls get ready, two of the girls said “If we were teens in the 80’s I bet we would be best friends” This struck me as funny. “If you were bff’s in the 80’s, you would be your mom and me now.” Eyes widened and a hush fell in the hairspray laden air. “Ladies, as cool and amazing as you are NOW, is how totally radical your parents and I were THEN.” Perspective. It will get you every time.  

Then, “Oh, Heather, you’ll always be cool.”

Bless em.

Congratulations to cast and crewmates of Back to the 80’s. It was totally tubular.

Give Peace a Chance

By EARL COX

Special to The Record

Jared Kushner, senior adviser and son-in-law to U.S. President Donald Trump, has been working on a peace plan to solve the Israeli-Palestinian conflict.  Details of this plan are being kept under lock and key but will be revealed soon after the elections in Israel on April 9th.  If Benjamin Netanyahu is reelected, he will become the longest serving prime minister in Israel’s history thus far.   It would be quite an achievement for both Trump and Netanyahu to have a workable peace plan with the Palestinians however, unless and until the Palestinians and all parties to any such plan agree that Israel has a right to exist as a Jewish state, no peace plan will be possible.  Furthermore, the world must stop holding Israel to a different and higher standard.  Rules, regulations, fairness and justice must apply equally to all. 

Israel is often accused of being an apartheid state however nothing could be further from the truth.  All Israeli citizens are not Jewish however all are treated equally under the law without regard to race, religion or sexual orientation.  Muslims, Bedouins, Druze and others serve in senior level positions within the government of Israel, however the media and the liberal left want the world to believe otherwise.

Here in the United States there has been a growing movement on our college and university campuses by various pro-Palestinian organizations such as Students for Justice in Palestine.  These organizations, with the support of liberal professors, are promoting and engaging in BDS (Boycott, Divestment and Sanctions) campaigns against Israel claiming they are helping the Palestinian cause. Those who promote the truth in an attempt to stop these anti-Semitic BDS campaigns are accused of stifling freedom of speech.  

The aim of the BDS movement is not to help the Palestinians.  It is to isolate Israel internationally and do as much economic harm as possible as part of the plan to erase Israel from off the face of the earth. The Palestinians are then expected to be crowned rightful heirs to inherit whatever remains of the Jewish state.

Thanks in large part to the efforts of the Israel Allies Foundation which is the international arm of the Knesset Christian Allies Caucus, a total of 27 states have passed legislation making it illegal for local governments to contract with companies that participate in the BDS movement. Opposition to such anti-BDS legislation leans heavily on the complaint that Americans’ First Amendment rights are being infringed upon. However, none of the anti-BDS legislation restricts an individual’s right to boycott Israeli products or businesses. It only restricts the government from being party to such boycotts.

The BDS movement incorrectly and unfairly places blame on Israel for all aspects of the conflict with the Palestinians despite the fact that Israel has made multiple peace offers all of which the Palestinians have rejected. Those in the BDS camp promote a distorted history that Israel is an illegal occupier of the land and maintains that Israel is responsible for Palestinian poverty and suffering. The BDS movement holds out false hope to the Palestinians that they can achieve their nationalistic aspirations without having to negotiate a deal directly with the Israelis because only Israel will be forced to compromise for peace.

By attempting to bludgeon Israel into submission through economic isolation, they believe Israel can be weakened enough to capitulate to every Palestinian demand. This is unrealistic, especially given Israel’s strong economy and superior military capabilities. In short, the Palestinians want a Jew-free state. They want Israel eliminated and replaced with a Palestinian state.  

BDS must be stopped in its tracks.  How can you help?  Ask your local grocery stores and other retailers to consider stocking Israeli products. Buy Israeli Bonds to support the booming Israeli economy and whenever you have an opportunity, speak the truth about Israel.  A loss for the BDS movement is a win for everyone else - Israelis and Palestinians. This is how to give peace a chance.   

‘I’m a Teacher and Legislator: We’re Making Strides in Increasing Teacher Pay’

By REP. JEFFREY ELMORE

N.C. House

This week, we received welcome news in our efforts to increase teacher pay in North Carolina.

According to a new report released on Tuesday by the National Education Association, one of the nation’s largest teacher unions, North  Carolina has now jumped to 29th in the nation in average teacher pay and second in the Southeast. In addition, the average teacher salary in North Carolina has now reached $53,975.

As a public-school teacher for nearly two decades in Wilkes County and a legislator in the N.C. General Assembly since 2012, I have a personal understanding of the challenges facing our teachers. Furthermore, as the only school teacher in the state legislator, I know that teacher pay is an emotional issue for many in our state, as the education system has had an impact in some way on everyone.

Regardless of political party, ensuring quality teachers in the classroom is of the upmost priority. Sadly, teacher pay has been used as a political football, even a weapon, by politicians to advance their agenda and careers for decades. For me, this is very frustrating and it is my goal to highlight the positive work being done to reward our teachers.

Make no mistake, there is more work to be done and we will continue to build on these efforts. This report is exciting news, especially when you look at how far we have come in teacher pay.  

When voters gave Republicans the majority in the General Assembly in 2011, North Carolina was ranked 47th in the nation in teacher pay. Furthermore, due to decades of irresponsible spending and budgeting, school systems across the state were considering a reduction in force, instituting hiring freezes and furloughing teachers.

That’s why we immediately went to work and laid out a plan to reward, recruit and retain teachers in North Carolina. We set out realistic goals, not based on winning votes, but actually delivering real results for our teachers, students and parents.

After five consecutive years of pay increases for our teachers, including over 9% in the past two years, we are meeting those goals and getting the results we planned for. As reported this past week, North  Carolina is now 29th in the nation and second in the Southeast in teacher pay – and has an average teacher salary of nearly $54,000.

In fact, teacher salaries in North Carolina have risen at the third highest rate in the entire country over the past five years.

While the ranking is a step in the right direction, and second in the Southeast is a great accomplishment, we must and will do more. Our goal is and has been to reward teachers for their hard work while ensuring our children are getting the best education possible to prepare them for the future.  

Since the Great Recession, our state has faced many challenges. We have made progress. We will continue to prioritize our state’s sound fiscal footing.  We will continue to save for the unexpected rainy day.  Lastly, we will continue to make strategic investments for our future.

Representative Jeffrey Elmore serves the 94th House District in the N.C. General Assembly and is the Chairman of House Education K-12 and Education Appropriations. He is also in his eighteenth year as a Wilkes County School teacher.

 Conway, a Black River and Spring Time

By CARL WHITE

Life in the Carolinas

I discovered historic downtown Conway, S.C., by happenstance while on my way to Myrtle Beach for the production of our first Christmas special. On that day I was the guest for the morning show on 93.9 FM WCRE in Cheraw. When I left the studio I put the Myrtle Beach address in my GPS. Based on the displayed ETA, the drive time was about two and a half hours; this would give me plenty of time to arrive and check into our hotel before evening activities.  

About midway through the drive I realized I was seeing places and things I had never seen before. For me, this is always exciting and I was stopping more than I had planned, and before long I became aware that time was slipping away. I knew if I were not careful, I would go from having plenty of time to being late, so I got back on the road.

I soon found myself in the midst of a picturesque Southern town with charming buildings reminiscent of times before strip malls and by-passes, times when the town center was the heart of commerce, shopping, dining and entertainment.

It was late afternoon, Christmas music filled the air and the streets and storefronts were decorated, thus intensifying the feeling of being in a special place. This was a part of Conway that I had never seen before. I guess I was like the millions of other people who only knew the Conway by-pass, which, like most by-passes, has no sense of history.  

From downtown I crossed the Waccamaw River and continued to Myrtle Beach. When I arrived at the hotel, I asked the front desk staff what they could tell me about Conway. I collected some information and contact names and went on with the evening's events.

It would be some months before I could make it back to Conway, but when I did, my first stop was the Chamber of Commerce. I learned about the historic Live Oaks that some call the oldest citizens in town. It is said that some of the trees predate the founding of America.

I was given the name of Larry Biddle as a champion for all things Conway. I called Larry and asked if we could meet. He agreed and we met that afternoon and I was given the grand tour of Conway as it is today and a lesson on the founding of Conway and much of its colorful history.

While I had gone fishing in the black waters of the Waccamaw River, I did not know that the river was the highway for the Waccamaw Indians who were in the area prior to the founding of America.

The Waccamaw was also the water way that a young Englishman traveled while charting the Royal Governor, Robert Johnson's Township Plan. The King's Town was formed in 1732 and the name was shortened to Kingston before finally becoming Conway.

I enjoyed discovering this part of our history while strolling on the meandering boardwalk along the banks of the Waccamaw. This is also when I noticed the beauty of spring time in Conway. The tender green color of new leaves on the trees that border the Waccamaw River looked fresh and alive. From certain views, the moss draped ancient Live Oaks and large azaleas were spectacular.

There are many more stories for me to share about historic Conway and her people, this one is about how I first discovered this charming Southern town and the beauty she displays in spring time.

Carl White is the executive producer and host of the award winning syndicated TV show Carl White’s Life In the Carolinas. The weekly show is now in its seventh year of syndication and can be seen in the Charlotte viewing market on WJZY Fox 46 Saturday at 1noon.  For more on the show visit www.lifeinthecarolinas.com, You can email Carl White at [email protected].  

[emma-poole]

Still, like pooled water. Five years old. The dairy leaves me congested. Cheese turns my head into a cotton ball. My mother takes me to a holistic doctor in the neighborhood. His name is Stephen. Stephen has gentle hands and kind eyes. I am intrigued by his office, the soft, muted colors. He asks my mother about my diet, has me lay down on a padded table while he palpates different body parts with his fingertips. The whole left wall is lined with windows. Sun pours in through the glass and lights up my baby hairs. I look like a reclining angel. A congested angel.

 Six months later, after a strict elimination diet of no dairy and wistful trips down the grocery store cheese aisle, I return to the office. He holds a milk carton up to my right hand to see how my energy reacts. My hand accepts the milk. I can eat dairy, but gradually. Everything in moderation. We discover my healing colors are purple and green. I feel validated, as I've always been drawn to earth tones and have a special affinity for anything purple. I lay on a bed in a room covered with lighting slides in my heart colors. I dream of my father and ice cream. The color green wakes me up, though I can't remember falling asleep. Slow, like molasses dripping off a metal spoon. The blank space before a memory forms. No more cotton head just limbs of honey. Malleable, five years formed. Is this why I place rose quartz on my heart when I feel sad? If left long enough, the crystal will take on the body's heat, becoming warm to the touch.

13 years later I move into my college dorm. I adorn my twin extra long bed with purple pillows and a sage green comforter. Fire is prohibited but I place scented candles in empty corners and turn my new space into home. I've become skilled at this. Friends remark that my room feels cozy. They lean on my throw pillows and borrow jewelry I never wear. I cry myself to sleep almost every night of freshman year, remembering a boy with blue eyes and large hands. I used to stare at the bumpy ridge of his cuticles and wonder how something could be so beautiful. He comes to me in dreams, which becomes torturous. In movement class, we roll around on the ground proclaiming our pain. Agony slips out my throat onto the rubber floor. I am howling in front of my classmates, body folded into grief. If we had babies, do you think their eyes would be brown or blue? Green maybe, you'd whisper. You liked me in green. Said it brought out my eyes.

We never made it to your cabin that summer before I left. Your mother got sick and began to lose her mind. She wrapped household appliances in paper and gifted them to you for your birthday. You sat with me in your backyard, confused and ashamed of the illness inside your mother that seemed to take all the good parts of her captive. I comforted you by talking about my father. It'll be ok, I told you, cradling your weeping head. Soft, like silk on bare skin. You kiss me. Your mouth is salty and warm. I can taste you seeking refuge in me, desperate to empty yourself of the pain you conceal so well between pursed lips and a puffed-up chest.

 Months later, you tell me the distance is too much. You harden into a stranger I don't recognize, blame me for leaving you, despite having known the circumstances all along. I reach out for you in my sleep, beg the universe to bring you back to me. My heart is a fist lodged into the center of twisted muscle. Constant, relentless ache. You become cold, hostile, and mean. Breathing turns into a task, forgetting, a goal. But I want to remember. I am obsessed with re-living our memories, see the two of us outside the day you told me about your mom. Your eyes matched the sky, clear and blue, as your mouth trembled. Chin up, my son. Why do we teach boys not to cry? What becomes of the women who turn into surrogates of their mothers?

 Hard, like a peach pit stuck in a wind pipe.

 Suffocating, like heartbreak.

 The year after I move to New York, my grandmother dies. She passes peacefully, after a quick and accosting bout with dementia. I go to see her in the final days. Her hospice room overlooks green grass and sprawling trees. There is bad art on the wall, but the windows make everything softer. Sun pours in and lights up her tiny frame. She is all skeleton, skin translucent over bird-like bones. Her head hangs at a forty five degree angle. I search her eyes for recognition but she is elsewhere, death waiting patiently to claim the last lucid parts. I imagine myself in a rocking chair with her on my lap, her tuft of thin white hair velvety against my chest. I would rub her back and cradle her small bones in my warmth, tell her it's ok to let go, that there are people waiting for her on the other side. A son and husband she has waited years to see again. She used to walk into the kitchen when I had guests over and present framed pictures of my uncle Michael and Grandpa Joel. Her first love and firstborn. She'd stand there like a child presenting her most prized possession and pass the picture around to my slightly uncomfortable but very gracious friends.

 My nana always wore lipstick and had eyes the color of deep water. She marked water glasses, dogs, and humans with her pink mouth print wherever she went. People told her she looked like Marilyn Monroe, which she loved, since they shared a name. She was beautiful, kind, stubborn and heartbroken. A part of her died the day she lost her husband and later her son, which is why standing in that room, days before her death, it felt right that her time on earth would soon end. As her body decayed, I knew her consciousness was expanding.

Rocking her, I'd whisper thank you for showing up. For all the graduations, plays, family dinners and stories. And for letting me be your roommate the summer after my freshman year of college when I came to you, stung over the loss of my first love, looking for comfort and a familiar place. I slept in the water bed all of June, July and August, occasionally sneaking in and out of the window that faced the yard. I even brought a boy into your house that summer, but you didn't know. Instead, you threw me a surprise party for my 19th and invited all my close friends. They brought me candy nipple tassels which we somehow convinced you to take a bite of.

 Remembering isn't fair, because it is never as accurate as the heart wants. Details become grainy, smells are lost. Except in that house, your house, the same one we stayed in when mom moved us back North from Florida to Niskayuna, New York, the town she grew up in, you live on. If I close my eyes and imagine it, I can smell rotisserie chicken warming in the oven, the pink bathroom enveloped in a waft of floral perfume. It smells like Nana in here, we’d say.

 I wonder if the people who live there now ever experience signs of before. I hear they remodeled it, changed so much that it barely resembles the brick house I knew. I think she'd be happy knowing a family inhabits the place that hers grew in.

I love you so much, I'd tell her. Now off you go.

 Calm, like wind rustling leaves. She is nowhere and every where.

 I visit Israel the summer of 2014. The old cities with their cobblestone streets and white washed buildings feels like stepping into a movie. In Jerusalem, girls and women dressed in long skirts tilt their heads against the wailing wall. They tuck their secrets into paper notes they wedge between the wall’s stones. I wonder what their bodies look like under the layers of clothing, if any of them have mothers who tucked them into bed at night with amethyst under their pillows. Do they marry men who nurture them or whose mothers they become ghosts of? I want to feel devotion the way they do.

 I think of Camp Coleman, a Jewish summer camp in Georgia my sister and I attended in grade school. The best part of camp was the blob, a giant inflatable raft that sat on the lake. One person sat on the edge of the blob while the other jumped off a ledge and upon landing, sent the person on the edge of the raft zooming up into the air. I liked the horseback riding, movie nights and camp food. But I also liked the daily services and hymns sung in Hebrew. I had a crush on a boy named Evan. He had blonde curls and brown eyes and we slipped notes to each other in the dining hall. It was the first summer I ever tried Nair, since some of the girls shaved their legs, which gave me great envy. I found out I was allergic to Nair and had to sit out of camp activities for a week because of the boils on my legs.

 I walk over to the wall. Closing my eyes, I place my palm on the cool stone and remember. I think of my grandmother, whose faith she turned to when life became harsh. Come with me to shul, she'd say, the more Jewish word for temple. I think of my mother, my grandmother’s gift to me, and our childhood home that she filled with plants and nourishing food. I am forest green and deep purple, embodied in my memories. This city is blue. Like my grandmother’s eyes. The first boy I loved. And my mother’s.

 The stone beneath my hand has become warm. I tear a piece of paper out of my journal and scribble the names of those dearest to me on it. Folding it up, I tuck it into the nearest empty space.

[theliterateape]

Harmless Experiment — A Terrible Serial Killer

by Erik Lewin

My mother had a great sense of humor. She appreciated funny movies, and she knew I loved them too. We’d go to the local theater sometimes. We didn’t have a lot of dough, my dad was an entrepreneur surviving week-to-week, but he still managed to buy my mom a sandy beige sports car. I think he knew what a pain in the ass he was to live with—that’s another story—so this was his tiny way of making amends.

My mom was a beauty. This was not my biased estimation, it was objective fact. She came from Israel as a little girl and her complexion was imbued with that light, dark sweetness. Her brown hair was long and very soft. She had high cheekbones too, so between all these traits, nobody could ever figure out where she was from. A true exotic. Most strikingly, her eyes were never accusing or threatening. They were innocent. Very smart too, and aware, which made their innocent quality all the more impressive. She chose to see the good in all things.

I have always had a thing for Chevy Chase movies. The weekend Spies Like Us opened, the one where he plays alongside Dan Aykroyd, was an absolute must see. The commercials looked hilarious and captivated my attention. I’d lay on the Berber carpet in our living room, propped up on two giant Persian pillows, and slide my little fingers over the channel switches on the black box remote. I kept clicking the different channels all day to catch another glimpse of the commercial with the Spies Like Us trailer. Naturally I was begging my mom to go to the theater, and it was an easy sell because she was into it too.

We jumped into the hot new car. My mom lit a cigarette, turned on the radio station WPLJ that played rock tunes–Bon Jovi’s Livin On a Prayer was released recently and came on–and we sang along to its rousing chorus. I rubbed my feet on the plush mat and didn’t even mind the cigarette smoke too much. When we got to the theater we discovered we weren’t the only ones excited about the movie–it sold out right after we got our tickets. They overbooked it, all the seats were taken, but we just sat on the floor in the back. We left in absolute stitches, joking about how we were about to pee ourselves during so many hilarious scenes in the movie.

Then I broke this piece of news to her: that I would need to purchase ten lab mice for a science fair experiment I was assigned to do with my friend, Sam. She groaned for a couple reasons–Sam and I couldn’t seem to stay out of trouble together–and mice? I assured her that Sam would actually give the mice, who were our test subjects and needed to be watched carefully–room and board at his parents’ house. I simply had to give him cash for the purchase, and after a little hesitation, mom forked it over for the mice, food and a cage.

Sam was one of my closest little buddies. We were kind of allies as inmates in a religious day school. We cracked jokes during daily services and passed notes during all our classes. The last time I slept over his place, we tossed huge water balloons at oncoming cars. We scored a direct hit on one Buick, the water splashing across the windshield, damn near causing the driver to crash right into a tree. He chased us back to Sam’s house. His mother caught us making this fast escape, and we giggled while the man barked that his life was almost cut short by a couple dumb kids.

We were also pretty poor students. In my case, I was severely challenged in math and science. It didn’t interest me, other than whether Lysol spray could actually make a fart catch fire. We had this total hot, bitchy lady for a science teacher. She was short with her students, always admonishing us to hand in our outstanding assignments.

The big thing was the science fair. It was a major part of the year’s grade, but more than that, it required an idea, a scientific experiment of some sort to actually do and then present to the school. You were allowed a partner. Sam and I teamed up and one day we hung around his place with his stepfather, Rick, who was in construction. We came up with this idea we thought would be so cool – Rick could help us build a maze out of wood and we could run mice through it. As stupid as that sounds, we took it to another level when we added the necessary ‘scientific experiment’ twist–we would split lab mice into two groups. One group would subsist on their usual diet, while we’d ply the other with drugs, then set both loose to see which performed better. In other words, how would a massive, continual injection of sugar affect the animals’ ability to negotiate the maze. The other test group would be cared for in the ‘normal’ fashion, as in, not torturing and slowly killing them. It was a fantastically idiotic idea that we set to work on with great relish. Rick helped us with the materials and the building of the maze, and we agreed that Sam would house them.

This plan worked… for a while. I’d go to Sam’s to work on our plan that violated every letter of the animal cruelty law. We named each mouse after a part of the name of our hero, New York Yankee Don Mattingly, whose name is forever tarnished. We gassed up half the mice with a dropper full of liquid sugar and got them crazy wired. We had to constantly adjust the dosage because at first, they were too overloaded and were climbing the walls of the maze, not trying to run through it. Meanwhile, the well-nourished group was struggling to escape, but were coming quite close. Turns out a diet of food and water is quite conducive to optimum performance.

All of this was working, actually–we recorded our observations in a notebook by each individual mouse and monitored their progress. It looked like we’d be okay. Then I got a phone call from Sam that his family had to go out of town for the weekend, unexpectedly, and asked if I could take the mice and keep them at my place.

I knew my mom wouldn’t be too thrilled but hey, it was for school, and they’d just be in the cage. I took the mice off Sam’s hands and left them in my room so my parents wouldn’t be reminded they now ran a rodent rescue. After I came back from school, it was time to avoid doing any homework, and go shoot some hoops in the playground. Sam called to check in and I assured him the mice were all fine, feeding away and rustling around in the cage. They were my test subjects and while I wouldn’t exactly call them cute, I was impressed with myself for having a real experiment in progress. I’d even begun to grow fond of the little guys.

When I came back from the playground, sweaty and hungry, I ducked into my room and undressed for the shower. It was eerily quiet. No rustling. The cage was empty! Nerves prickled my neck and arms. Holy shit… holy shit, I kept repeating in my puberty addled brain, investigating the cage for any magician’s trap door they may have slipped into, just having a little fun with Erik, when the cat’s away the mice will play, right?

They weren’t under the bed. They weren’t making a sound. Where the hell had seven lab mice gone? Then I heard bumping noises behind my dresser, which was long and wide and pushed up against the wall. I stuck my head in the crack and saw a couple of those suckers running back and forth along its length. We had trained them well. Then I heard the radiator clang. I got down on all fours and craned my neck under the bottom of the it, and sure enough, there was a hole in the wall! How many of our prize mice had made a daring POW escape to my neighbo’s apartment? It then occurred to me that the door to my room was open the whole time I’d been at the playground. The rest of them must be loose everywhere—

There were no options. I had to bring my mother into this. Better she know now, than to open a cupboard in the kitchen and have a mouse fly out of it. 

         “Uh, mom, you’re not gonna like this.”

         “You playing ball before homework? Not really. Get in the shower and get ready for dinner. No games, phone or TV. Do your homework.” She was busy in the dinette, with bills and papers spread out in piles under the warm yellow light. She dragged from a smoke and waved me away. 

         “But mom, you don’t understand.”

         “I understand fully well, young man, you weren’t suppo—”

         A tiny face with whiskers stuck its head out from under her papers.

         “Ahhhhhh!!!” She leapt from the chair.

         The little guy squeaked and ran around the table.

         “That’s what I was trying to tell you!” I laughed. “They’re out! They got outta the cage in a wild bid for freedom!” 

         “We have to catch them before your father comes home,” she said, the anger leaving her eyes in favor of its usual softness. She smiled. “Were there other sightings?”

         “My bedroom–the scene of the crime–I’ll show you.”

 After my mom surveyed the challenge facing us behind the dresser, and the hole in the radiator, she said: “We can’t have these guys getting a free ride, staying here like this and not paying any rent.” We giggled. “As far as the hole in the radiator, I think Mrs. Silvestry will finally have some of the company she’s always wanted.”

         “You’re not worried about the mice spreading around the building?” I asked.

         “What mice?” My mom said, crossing her arms. “Get dressed, we need to go to the pet store.”

 I threw my dirty clothes back on and we jumped in the car. We were at a pet shop next to my mom’s bank in five minutes flat. She instructed me to go in and procure traps–it was my mess and I needed to figure out how to clean it up.

         “What if we can’t round them all up? Should I get new mice?”

         “Not if you still want to live here.”

         “Ok, I’m going.” What the hell was Sam gonna say when I told him about the great escape?

         “Welcome to Pet land,” I heard when I walked in. I’d never had so much as a hamster, so this animal kingdom was totally foreign to me. Huge fish tanks, colorful birds squawking, reptiles, and the strange intermingled smells of different creatures surrounded me. I went to the front counter where the man had greeted me. He was in his late teens, mullet haircut, flannel cutoff at the arms, thin scruff under his chin. He had a look in his eyes like he could tell you exactly what it said when you played Ozzy Osbourne records backwards.

         “I need help. I’ve got a bunch of lab mice loose in my house.”

         “Alright, gotcha. So you need traps. Aisle three.”

         “Maybe you could… uh, do the traps keep them alive and unharmed? How does it work, I’ve never hunted an animal before.”

He spit out hubba bubba gum into his hand and tossed it in the trash.

         “You running a shelter? You set the traps and that’s that, they’re in there. Can’t get out. Our bestseller is the glue trap, they won’t get outta that, trust me. I’ll show you, this way.”

I was mortified. Back in the car I showed my mom the pile of glue traps we now had at our disposal. She nodded approvingly. We went back into my room and the kitchen and living room and set up all the traps like we were on some kind of commando mission. Apparently there was a substance on the surface of the glue that attracted the poor buggers to the trap. The good news was the traps worked. That was also the bad news because the actual glue doesn’t poison the mouse, but simply holds it in place while it thrashes about in a futile effort to free itself.

         “Your father will be home soon. You have to take care of it.”

         “How?”

         “Consider this part of the experiment.”

And so I went about the grim business of being the hatchet man for these mice. My sugar riddled mice, whom I’d actually grown fond of, were now in the hands of a monster. Because when each guy was on the glue trap, looking at me with its furtive, desperate eyes, I slid him down an incinerator shoot.

         “Mom, the good news is I’d make an awful serial killer,” I said, tears wetting my cheeks.

         “My poor baby,” she said, hugging me. “And you’ll never be a scientist. But, with these kinds of misadventures, you’ll tell some good stories, just like in our funny movies.”

BUY the BOOK

#Spies Like Us #mom #Science Fair #mice

[thefirephilly]

Interview with Boston Rock Group The Ultra!

The Ultra, rock ‘n’ roll band from Boston, are coming to The Fire on Friday, November 16th! I got the opportunity to sit down with Sam (guitar), Pat (bass) and Shaqed (drums) and talk to them about creating their sound, what it was like performing at Gillette Stadium and how the last year has been since forming the band. Check out the full interview down below!

Q: What got you all into music? Is this a passion you’ve had since you were young or did you find your love for it within the last few years?

Sa: I think our parents got us all into music. My dad still gives me a hard time about it, I ruined all of his Beatles records as a kid because I would just play them so much. I made my mom made too because I would just steal all of the pots and pans and pretend I was Ringo.

Sh: We all have different pathways that got us into music. I am from Israel originally and my mom was really well known singer there and so I was just born into the industry.

P: My mom got me a guitar for Christmas when I was about 6, a little acoustic guitar, so I was really grateful for that.

Q: It has been a little bit under a year since you guys first became officially The Ultra, how have the last few months been releasing so much new music and just growing a band?

Sa: It has been very exciting and face paced, and very, very busy at all times.

P: Yeah, it’s been a wild ride!

Sh: Initially when we were playing as Alec Mac we were having a lot of fun but there was this very immediate agreement that hey, we’ve got to do something more than we are doing now. Then “Lights Go Down”, our first song, materialized really fast and now here we are.

Sa: Yeah and after a few trips to California and rehearsing a lot, we are pretty immersed in our field right now.

Q: That all sounds really awesome, what has been your favorite venue to play at so far?

Sa: Gillette Stadium, that was last Sunday before the Pats vs. Packers game. That was really something, it was a really fun gig.

P: We were opening for LoCash, we didn’t know this but people were texting us saying we were on tv and that was really surreal.

Sh: I think as of late, that place seems so untouchable and just to be in that vicinity is amazing.

Sa: The next step is being the headliner!

Q: From listening to your latest single “Look Like Kylie” and the EP, I really get the sense that your music is this fantastic blend of early 2000s punk rock and today’s country music. Was that sound something that came naturally when you guys first jammed together?

P: I’ve known Alec for like a million and a half years, we grew up together, and we started our first rock band in like 6th grade so rock n roll has been the goal for us. Then we split ways, he did his thing with country and then we came back to form this band so it is interesting having that country aspect of it. Our music is still heavily punk rock vibes. We were big Good Charlotte fans, I used to wear spikes in my hair because I love Benji Madden.

Sa: I will tell you right now this guy right here [pointing at Shaqed] is the second coming of Travis Barker.

Sh: Oh, thanks man! I think the thing that really makes the combination work is that we do have a center of about 2 or 3 bands that we all love and listen to but then we all come from such different backgrounds musically and it all adds that something extra.

Sa: Exactly and I think the four of us find common ground with our influences because they all have a similar energy.

Q: You guys got to work with producer Courtney Ballard who has done stuff for bands like All Time Low and Good Charolette. What was it like working with him?

Sh: He’s unbelievable, I’ve been buddies with him for about 3 or 4 years now. I met him just before I started college. I was in another band and we were looking to record an EP and we stumbled upon his studio. Then when we formed this band I had this instinctive feeling that he would really like our stuff so I sent him some tracks to see what he thought and he really liked it.

P: His stuff is awesome, we were ripping the new Waterparks album last night, which he produced, and it is just amazing. Anything he does is amazing. When we went to go record “Getaway”, I thought the verse guitar riff was like an All Time Low riff, and when we walked into the studio he asked me if it was cool if he changed it around. I looked up and saw the platinum All Time Low placard on his wall and I told him of course, I’ve gone straight to the source.

Q: What's a song you've written that came out of nowhere? Maybe from just staring at a tree or making food and then think ‘Oh this would make a cool song’.

Sa: “Lights Go Down” was a weird on take thing. It was our Big Bang, we created a real tangible energy with that song.

Sh:  I think the random part about it was the way we started the band with Alec coming from Nashville and him coming back for jaw surgery. He hit us all up because he wanted to play and make some money so we kind of just built off the crazy, unique energy that was present from the beginning.

Q: It seems like within the last couple months you guys have been playing a lot of cool places and really growing your fan base. What is your dream venue to play? Is there a place where if you were to headline or play there, you would get that ‘yeah we made it’ feeling?

Sa: We got a little taste of it this summer. We headlined Brighton Music Hall in our hometown, it’s like a 500 person club and we gave them their biggest ticket sales of the summer.

P: In terms of venues we hope to play, in our home town we’d probably say the House of Blues. That’s probably the biggest club in Boston.

Q: You guys hit the ground running with all of the new releases in the last couple of months, can fans be expecting new material soon? Maybe some more singles or a possible full album?

P: We’ve got some things we’ve been holding on to and we are still figuring out the release plan for that. We’re in studio shift right now and we’re cooking some things up.

Sh: Yeah we’re always cooking new things!

Sa: The beginning of 2019 is gonna be pretty loud. I think that is what we are gearing up for! We’ll let people enjoy the holidays before we bombard them with all the new stuff.

Q: Do you guys have any fun stories from being on tour or when creating new music?

P: One time we had a mosh pit to the song ‘Wagon Wheel’, that was really crazy. Fireworks works behind the stage playing a billionaire's estate in Maine.

Sh: Yeah nothing too crazy, we are pretty relaxed but do like to have fun!

And that is what you can expect from the show next Friday! Come by and rock out with this awesome band!

Check out The Ultra on Facebook and their website!

The band are joining Black Tie Stereo and Menace of Canvas  at The Fire Friday, November 16th. Link to the event HERE

Stay up-to-date on all The Fire news and events here: https://www.firephilly.com

By Jackie Karlsson

#thefirephilly #theultra #november16 #phillylivemusic

[ramle17-18]

10/8-10/14

ok so sunday (the 8th) is when i finally got out of bed and felt comfortable going for a walk, so i walked to the shuk by myself, did a little bit of shopping (and bought a scale!), and then took the bus by myself for the first time. 

to be completely honest, i haven’t done anything for all of sukkot. barely left the house (although being sick for like a week was a good excuse for a lot of it lol). marleigh keeps judging me for it but like. whatever

we finally got martyrs to work the other night, and i didn’t really like it lol, and then last night i watched 2 eps of black mirror with matt because i wanted to stay up to wait for sultana to get home from the airport, which was around 11:30. she was happy to see me i guess but when marleigh came downstairs she freaked out, which, i mean it makes sense it just. yknow . whatever!

i feel bad because i feel like between here and my main blog i complain about marleigh a lot, like definitely more than anyone else, and that’s really not how i feel about her. i really do like her a lot, we’re friends, and i’m really glad i’m going to be working with her this school year over any of the other three options (all the kids would like sultana more than me, matt and i would butt heads a lot i’m sure, and rachel and i don’t have personalities that would be compatible for that kind of job). 

i think i just feel like marleigh is judging me all the time. she always makes comments about how i like don’t do very much in my free time or how i never leave the house, or i’m so critical that i’m never satisfied with anything, etc. tries to offer me advice for like..weight loss and mental illness without a) knowing what she’s talking about or b) knowing anything about me. very much one of those like ‘positive thinking and yoga will cure you! just stop being so negative!’ people and like at some point she was trying to tell me that i should be eating 2000 cal a day because that’s what’s recommended, and that 1100-1200 is way too little and i’m starving myself. but . hi i’m 4′10 and trying to LOSE weight, if i ate 2000 cal every day i would gain like a pound every week lmfao

speaking of weight loss, though, i was 140 lbs this morning :) so i’m only 12 lbs away from my lowest weight when i lost all that weight a couple years ago. although it’s been VERY difficult for me to see it in the mirror still. those green shorts might (hopefully) fit soon though, i think. which is good because i’m running out of options. not sure what i’m gonna do when it gets cold enough for long pants and i have 3 pairs of leggings and 1 pair of jeans lol. maybe go clothes shopping since i really have some cash left over from the stipend, at least this month. i’m aiming for 110 (or maybe 107.5 just so it’s an even 70 lb loss which sounds impressive lmfao) but tbh i might wanna go down to 105 or 100 depending on how i feel. definitely (probably) not below that, though. what’s annoying is that there are very few people i can talk to about my ultimate goal bc most people, like mom, would be like THAT’S TOO LOW YOU’RE GOING TO STARVE YOURSELF when in fact it’s directly in the middle of the recommended weight for my height, and since i’m not packing very much muscle i think it would actually make a lot of sense for me to hover around there. when i’m there i’ll try to start recomp because it would be nice to be a little toned, but for now i’ll settle with the goal of being able to feel comfortable being photographed lmfao. 

i did start c25k up again, though, i’ve only done 2 days so far and i probably should be doing day 3 right now instead of writing this, but i haven’t slept well the past 2 nights so i’m probably just going to do it tomorrow instead. and i also started doing a very small amount of bodyweight exercises. my fear is, of course, that it’ll slow down my weight loss, which it will, and as much as i know to trust the science of “just because you’re not losing weight doesn’t mean you’re not losing fat, muscle weighs more than fat” etc, it’ll be really discouraging not to have that marker that i can graph every day just to know where i’m at. that’s another thing, if (certain) people in the house knew i weighed myself every morning they’d probably flip their shit and think i’m neck-deep in an eating disorder, when in reality it’s so much healthier for me to see the daily fluctuations and be able to look at it as a trend line. if i only weighed myself once a week, let’s say i weigh myself after a day of exercise, or after a particularly sodium-filled day, or just a day i didn’t drink as much water as i thought i did, i would be really upset and discouraged to see a gain on the scale. but in doing it every day i’m much more okay with fluctuations and it’s helpful to see that the overall trend is still going waaay down. i mean i’ve lost almost 40 lbs. (which you’d think i would be able to see in the mirror by now lol)

hmm i feel like i’m not using this journal in a way that will make me happy i kept it. i mean, it’ll be cool to know how i was feeling about certain things, and it’s a personal journal instead of a blog, but i still feel like i’m going to look back and be like “why did you spend so much time complaining about your roommates and talking about your weight loss instead of describing your experience abroad, dumbass?” but also as i keep pointing out to literally everyone, we still haven’t started teaching yet. (two days!!) once we’re there i think i’ll have more to talk about.

the first few days of november we’re going on a 3-day trip to the negev and eilat. i’m excited for it, but also really anxious lol. we also didn’t get to pick our roommates this time like we did last time (although idk if sultana and marleigh would’ve even wanted me to room with them again, they probably would want sydney or rebecca) and i’m really hoping they don’t just stick us with some random people for 2 nights.

we were offered 4 tracks for the educational sector of the program: technology, bedouins, the gaza strip, and the black hebrew israelites. naturally i picked the bedouins lmfao i have no interest in hearing masa propaganda about how hard it is for the israelis to live in gaza (the email seriously was like “learn how these people live as they just try to keep their families safe in the settlements....ok then don’t fucking illegally settle on other peoples’ land?), etc etc. of course the gaza one was the most popular lol. but i was told aaron jaffe is anti-israel (and everyone was like “uhhh why are you even on this program” like shut up lol) and i think he’s doing the bedouin track as well, which was pretty small last time i looked, so even though we haven’t talked before maybe i can strike up a conversation about it because i haven’t been able to talk about it with anyone yet and it’s getting tough.

and then we basically have like a day of free time, during which i’m hoping to go snorkeling and/or swimming with dolphins, which will be amazing. maybe i’ll go shopping or something. but beyond that i don’t know what i’m going to do or who i’m going to hang out with, which makes me worry that i’m either gonna just be following people around like a lost puppy (as usual) or holed up in my room “relaxing” for shabbat because so many activities are optional. there’s an early morning hike on the second day but i decided not to sign up because i don’t particularly like hiking, it’ll be hot down there even though it’s november, and i probably wouldn’t enjoy myself. it just didn’t seem like the best time for a physical challenge, a 2-3 hour hike up and down mountains or whatever. but it’s fine.

oh, i totally forgot to mention that matt and i smoked together! it felt so high school, smoking out of an apple pipe and getting high off such a small amount (for him, i think for me it was pretty standard lol). it was fun though, we watched se7en and then i went to bed early. i think indica makes me too sleepy. 

he made weed butter too which i tried but didn’t find worth it, it took like 2 hours before i felt anything and then literally all i wanted to do was go to sleep. so i don’t think i’m gonna have any of that again. which is fine because i don’t want that to be a regular thing, anyway. i don’t wanna get sent home lol

[hellogreenweb]

Family History: A Powerful Resource for Raising Resilient Kids

I’ve decided to rethink bedtime stories. Maybe you should too.  It turns out, those stories can become a weapon of mass protection for our children. I don’t know about you, but I feel helpless sometimes — like a sideline spectator — watching my children navigate life’s challenges. And I’m just talking about schoolyard bullies and lost toys for my young children. As they get older, I know they will face more formidable foes, like the increasingly common mental ailments of depression and anxiety.

Sadly, I have seen dozens and dozens and dozens of our children in the hospital after they have felt sad enough to make an attempt on their lives. I’ve seen even more in my clinic where the clouds of depression and anxiety are just starting to disrupt their routines.

I’ve wondered if the increase has something to do with better awareness and decreased stigma. If so, that is a wonderful thing! That means kids who used to pretend everything was fine are now getting the emotional help they need! But I’m afraid that can’t explain away the whole increase.

It seems probable and even likely that the way our children are immersed in social media plays at least some roll. Every picture and post is a test of their popularity, their beauty, their coolness. How many likes did I get? As they scan their feeds, they are inundated with falsehoods, inaccuracies, and “fake news.” They see peers who seem impossibly happy having endless amounts of fun. The teenage mind is simply not equipped to discern clearly between what is real and what is filtered. Add on the complexities of hormonal swings and the pressures of school and work and extracurricular activities and you have a set-up for emotional instability. The teenage years are a set-up anyway! Social media just makes it impossible to escape.

So how do you arm your children against this storm? How can you fortify them emotionally? How can you make things that are true more obvious and clear? What does story time have anything to do with it?

In 2008, two researchers put together 20 questions that they thought might be able to predict how emotionally healthy children are. The questions ranged from “Do you know how your parents met?” and “Do you know the source of your name?” to “Do you know where some of your grandparents grew up?” It was sort of a mini pop quiz on family history. The number of answers a child knew became their score.

What they found was an incredible clue for us as parents. Kids with higher scores had “higher levels of self-esteem, . . . a belief in one’s own capacity to control what happens to him or her, better family functioning, lower levels of anxiety, fewer behavioral problems, and better [resilience].”1

OK. Give me that list of 20 questions. I’m gonna make a set of laminated flash cards for every kid I know!

But knowing a list of random family history facts wasn’t the point at all.

The real power came from HOW those kids knew random family history facts: “The information was typically passed during family dinners, family vacations, family holidays, and the like.” Those traditions helped the children develop a “strong sense of what we have called the intergenerational self.”1 [emphasis added].

In other words, families that make family history a part of their culture and traditions (help their children create an intergenerational self) are families that cultivate healthier, happier, more resilient children. The intergenerational self could have the power to make a child’s cyber-self irrelevant.

That is a very cool finding to hear from a scientific paper. Although, I have to admit, it is not that surprising to me at all.

God himself has frequently encouraged us to develop a strong “intergenerational self.” Isaiah says, “Look unto the rock from whence ye are hewn, and to the hole of the pit from whence ye are digged. Look unto Abraham, your father, and unto Sarah that bare you.”2 He frequently implores us: “Know ye that ye are of the House of Israel.”3 God knows of the strength that comes from belonging to strong families, whether it be God’s family, your adopted family, or your genetic family. Henry B. Eyring, speaking about children who “do” family history, said the following in April of this year: “[Family history] has increased the influence of the Spirit in their lives and decreased the influence of the adversary. It has helped them feel closer to their families and closer to the Lord Jesus Christ.”4

So how do you make family history a part of your culture and traditions? How do you develop this intergenerational self in yourself and your children? I can tell you one thing for sure, I’m not an expert. I have a few ideas, but I would definitely appreciate your ideas as well.

As I’ve pondered, I have come to realize that my family has given me the gift of an intergenerational self. When I worked in the yard with my dad or my grandpa and saw their relentless motors, I came to know that “we work hard.” When my dad told me stories about my mom in high school, I came to know that “we are kind and loving to everyone.” When my grandpa and dad told me stories about my dad as a missionary, I came to know that “we share our testimonies and have great faith that others will believe our words.” When my grandma told me about my grandpa’s motto to “fix the problem, not the blame,” I came to know that “we care about solutions AND people.” When I read my dad’s life history and he explained troubles he had in high school, I came to know that “we are not perfect and we always repent.” So much of who I am is really who they are.

I’ve had one idea. My kids LOVE to draw. I like to draw with them and I’m always wondering what to color. I want to start to draw scenes from my childhood and when they ask what it is, I get to tell them a story about my life.

I also remember two of my favorite vacations of all time. We traveled to Memphis where my dad grew up. We drove to his high school and his old home and ate at a favorite restaurant. I saw the infamous water tower where he was caught by the police and taken to jail for trespassing to put up a school banner. It was like traveling in time. The next year, I visited Chagrin Falls, Ohio, where my mother grew up. It was enchanting. I was driving through the streets, talking on the phone excitedly with my grandmother about fountains, parks, and store fronts. I felt connected and a part of their childhoods.

In the same line of thinking, I know a family friend and her husband who will take their children on a journey through a little history of their early romantic relationship. They visit the place they met, their first date, where they got engaged, etc. Physical locations make stories come to life.

Some of the most worthwhile stories to share are stories of failure, heartache, and disappointment. Don’t shy away from the difficult or embarrassing moments of your lives. I cannot think of a more important attribute for my children to incorporate into their intergenerational self than that of perseverance, penitence, and humble faith in the face of hard things. “That our children may know to what source they may look for a remission of their sins.”5

So, we need to be true storytellers. We need to encapsulate moments and attributes and package them in the stories of our lives, and our parents’ lives, and our grandparents’ lives, and our great grandparents’ lives. And then tell them to our children. And write them down for our children to read. And show them what real life feels like.

I really do know and feel that we are all part of God’s family. He wants us to feel connected to Him and implores us to remember who we are! He also wants us to be part of strong family chains – definitely imperfect, but strong.

How do you build your children’s intergenerational selves?

Duke, M.P., Lazarus, A., & Fivush, R. (2008). Knowledge of family history as a clinically useful index of psychological well-being and prognosis: A brief report. Psychotherapy Theory, Research, Practice, Training, 45, 268-272.

2 Nephi 8:1-2

Mormon 7:2

Henry B. Eyring, “Gathering the Family of God”, April 2017 General Conference.

2 Nephi 25:26

Mitch Peterson is a husband to an amazing wife and father to three great kids. He loves to take care of children as a pediatrician at Families First Pediatrics (ffpeds.com) in Utah. He keeps up an Instagram account that addresses many common questions about childrens’ health (@doctor.peterson).

Family History: A Powerful Resource for Raising Resilient Kids posted first on http://ift.tt/2ulDYg7

[jesusandtheleopards]

Jesus and the Leopard

I grew up in a Christian house hold and I am very thankful for that. It was not shoved down my or my brother and sister's throats. It was a way of life, everyday a understanding that God is present and that God is love. The world is imperfect and therefore we are but God forgives and we follow cause God knows the way. God is perfect. That following and understanding part was not always easy, but was confronting to know that God was on your side no matter who you were or what you were doing. It was as typical as changing your socks. To this day, I am a Christian, a work in progress.

And the three of us also went to Catholic school which had its ups and downs but mainly good memories. I liked religion class, same reason as I enjoyed history and English, because I enjoyed the stories. I love stories, especially if they are beyond my imagination.

I have a really good imagination and could go on for hours on my favorite types of stories which tend to be science fiction and fantasy. History was cool because it really happened but was based on everyday types things with a little extra something in those moments. English was good because we read fiction which may have been based in reality was loosely.

Religion was a different animal, because see the Bible speaks of historically sound places and events while also paving the way with intellectual principles. I.E., faith alone saves us and to embrace all people as Christ does, with understanding and love.  There is a Israel and there is evidence of Jesus Christ, so I liked Religion a lot knowing that it was full of fantastical moments but was real.

Think about it, everyday life is full of moments that can not be logically explained but happened none the less. People survive terrible accidents without logical reason, are cured of disease without logical reason, and being capable of performing super human feats like lifting a car off of others in times of crisis. Miracles that occur many times without being noticed. Everything is a pattern, everything is a plan, and everyone has a choice. Don't agree, that is okay.

I enjoyed the new testament better then the old testament because New chronicled Christ, who I saw as a kind of a real life super hero. He came to bring peace, right the wrongs, and save everyone through self sacrifice, and never asked for anything but faith. More powerful then Superman, not angry like Batman but vigilant and more motivated by selfless acts then Spider-man. By the way, Spider-man, Batman and Superman, are awesome. 

Anyway, back to Catholic school, namely First Grade! I have fond memories of my teacher telling us of the miracles that Christ performed during his ministry. Remarkable to hear of how Christ walked on water, turned water into wine, raised the dead, rose from the dead himself and how he cured the leopards.

Yes, you heard that last part correctly. Jesus Christ cured the leopards, or at least that is what six year of me thought he heard. I was very impressed by how Christ cured the leopards of their spots ridding them of their affliction. I had no idea that he was a cat person? Made sense, I guess, since he made them, he probably had a fondness for cats but since Christ is God and God made all things, it must of been pretty difficult to have a favorite.

I was so excited about this idea of Christ being able to remove spots for leopards that I went home and told my mom. Mom was a little confused after I told her " Jesus is a really good guy, Mom. He cured the leopards!"   "What?, she replied and which time I explained. Mom, by the way, Moms know everything in case you did not know this. She replied, "Kurt, Jesus cured the lepers. Not the leopards. Both had spots but quite different reasons."

As it turned out lepers had a plague which caused disfigurement unlike the decorative spots of the leopards. Fashion vs. disease. I was a bit disappointed that Christ did not cure the leopards because I thought perhaps the leopards may not like having spots. Mom said that God gave them spots for a reason and that God knows best.

I asked Mom a few times, just to be sure, that we were now on the same page. I was hoping the curing of the leopards ship had not sailed, but it did. Oh, well.

I then asked why did lepers have spots and Mom said that was a mystery but God still knew best because he cured them as a sign that God can free us of our disfigurements which may be mental, emotional and physical. Goes back to that whole idea of purpose and direction to follow to find the tools and answers we need.

So one bunch liked having spots and the other wanted them gone. One bunch walk all four and are technically naked and the other bunch are human most likely waling on two legs. Got it!

I realized that it was good that Christ cured the lepers but it did not stop me from thinking how cool it would of been if a leopard, now spotless, came back and said, "Thank you, Jesus! I appreciate that." Not a bad thing to remember.

Recently I told a friend of mine this story. His reply was, "Hey, Jesus was the first animal rightest. Got to love it." Ha

[rose-sisson]

I've hesitated for weeks to post this image. I honestly didn't want it to get stolen, hence the signature near King David. But I decided that it's something that God gave me, so it should be shared. Just to clarify, you are free to repost this and share it. At any rate, I figured that this would be a good day to retell the story of David, and where the idea for this image came from. If you're new to FireTime, the first thing you need to know about me is that I am a huge veggietales fan. I have all the classics, majority on VHS. My first word was 'veg-tales'. To this day I watch veggietales. One of my favorite veggietales shows, was Dave and the Giant Pickle. Which if you couldn't tell by the name, is the story of David and Goliath. In this show there's a song called 'Big Things Too' (go listen, it's not only funny if you get the jokes but it ties in with this message https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=m4DzO2ySgiM). But before we get to this song, let's get into the scripture that aligns with what's going on in the song. 1 Samuel 17:31-40, "The things David said were picked up and reported to Saul. Saul sent for him. 'Master,' said David, 'don't give up hope. I'm ready to go fight this Philistine.' Saul answered David, 'You can't go fight this Philistine. You're too young and inexperienced -- and he's been at this fighting business since before you were born.' David said, 'I've been a shepherd, tending sheep for my father. Whenever a lion or bear came and took a lamb from the flock, I'd go after it, knock it down, and rescue the lamb. If it turned on me, I'd grab it by the throat, wring its neck, and kill it. Lion or bear, it made no different -- I killed it. And I'll do the same to this Philistine pig who is taunting the troops of God-Alive. God, who delivered me from the teeth of the lion and the claws of the bear, will help deliver me from this Philistine.' Saul said, 'Go. And God helps you.' Then Saul outfitted David as a soldier in armor. He put his bronze helmet on his head and belted his sword on him over the armor. David tried to walk but he could hardly budge. David told Saul, 'I can't even move with all this stuff on me. I'm not used to this.' And he took it all off. Then David took his shepherd's staff, selected five smooth stones from the brook, and put them in the pocket of his shepherd's pack, and with his sling in his hand approached Goliath." In the song, 'Big Things Too', Phil Vischer put this scene to song. David, a kid no older than fourteen, goes to King Saul and volunteers to fight the giant Philistine Goliath. Not only does David volunteer, but he argues his ability to do so. In the song, there was a lyric that stuck out to me, 'With His help I know I can do big things'. Through this conversation between Saul and David, David is trying to let Saul know, 'It's okay, with his help I can do it'. And I find it particularly interesting how David went through to explain it. To start, David uses a testimony of how he killed bears and lions to protect his father's sheep. He talks, goes into details about how he would wring the necks of the lion or bear, and kill it. I don't know about you, but I can just see David using these instances as a parallel for defeating Goliath. You've heard God's people being called sheep time to time, and I'm pretty sure that Goliath was being compared to a lion and bear. When I first read it, I thought that David was bragging. But if you continue through David's conversation, David says that God was the one who delivered him. So what exactly is David doing? Is he bragging about him killing a lion and a bear, or is he bragging about God protecting him? I'd like to suggest that it's both. It's strange to think that you can brag about something you do and that God does at the same time. Normally when Christians brag about what they do, people get a little skeptical, don't they? Do you have one of those friends who posts every time they pay for someone's meal at a drive thru? Honestly, when I see that, I get aggravated because it seems like they're bragging about their charity and are looking for praise. But David isn't looking for praise in these verses. Psalm 23:1-6 is a famous Psalm that David wrote. "God, my shepherd! I don't need a thing. You have bedded me down in lush meadows, you find me quiet pools to drink from. True to your word, you let me catch my breath and send me in the right direction. Even when the way goes through Death Valley, I'm not afraid when you walk by my side. Your trusty shepherd's crook makes me feel secure. You serve me a six-course dinner right in front of my enemies. You revive my drooping head; my cup brims with blessing. Your beauty and love chase after me every day of my life. I'm back home in the house of God for the rest of my life." From David's conversation with Saul and the Psalm he wrote later in life, I can tell what he is doing. David isn't just bragging about his strength, or about how God protects him. David is using both to validate his confidence in God. If you read the beginning of the story of David and Goliath, you'll read about how the army of the Israelites and the army of the Philistines were about to go to war. But Goliath, a ten-foot Philistine with 126 pounds of armor on and a spear that weighed more than 15 pounds, steps up and challenges the Israelites to a one on one battle between each sides' champion. But nobody stepped up to fight Goliath. The Israelites cowered in fear of Goliath for forty days, as Goliath each day taunted the Israelites. God's chosen people, who literally had a God on their side, were not confident in his ability to protect them from Goliath. My question is, what went wrong? Why did the Israelites lose confidence in God's ability to protect them? There could be many reasons for each individual in the army. Perhaps they didn't believe the stories they heard from when they were younger. Perhaps they believed but didn't believe that God could do the same in their life. Perhaps they believed that they would have to rely on their own strength, instead of God's. Whatever the reason, David proved them all wrong. David goes to Saul to say that he is confident enough that he can defeat Goliath and that God will deliver him. I don't know about you, but David's testimony is astounding. Often when we hear the story of David and Goliath, we think about how cool it was for a little kid to take down a giant. We love this story, we tell it to kids in youth services. But why do we love this story so much? It's because the faith of a little boy saved a whole nation from slavery. David stood in the gap for the cowering nation of Israelites and gave God the ability to protect them. Now you may be thinking, 'Couldn't God do it anyway?' Sure he could, but the Israelites wouldn't learn a thing. If God just took care of them all the time without them doing anything, they'd be like that forty-year-old man still living in his mother's basement. They would believe that everything was due to their power, and they would lose respect for God. If they lost respect for God, nobody would learn that the God of Israel is the one true God. But because David stood up, God was able to prove not only to the Philistines but to the cowering Israelites that he was the one true God. David was able to restore the confidence of the Israelites, by proving his own. Through David's confidence in God, he was able to do amazing things: he won more wars, became King of Israel, he had children, he repented of his sins, he wrote multiple Psalms, he ran away from God and had confidence that he could return. Through David, came Solomon who wrote many of the Proverbs. Through David, came the Savior Jesus Christ. Through all of David's ups and downs, I feel like his ongoing testimony is simply 'Don't worry, God's got this.' This life is hard to live. Anytime you read or watch the news, there's always a bad report. In our own lives, we have struggles. Not too long ago, there was a fire at my old trailer (which is next door to our current house). My mom and I were hauling buckets of water, trying to contain the fire til the fire department made it. The fire took out an acre of land, an old chicken house, and half of the underpanning of the trailer. Unexpected things happen every day that throws your plans in the gutter. But through David, we learn that it's okay and that we can have confidence in God.   So the fruit of this short and simple message is simple: Have confidence in God. Don't just know that God can do miracles, believe that he can do them for you too. If you don't believe, remember what God has done in the Bible, and believe that he values you just as much as he did David. We live in a broken world that needs to know that the Lord is God. Maybe you have someone in your life who's a Christian like you but doesn't believe that God can do amazing things in their life. David stood in the gap for his ken, and so can you. Don't worry, God's got this. With his help, even you can do big things. If you liked this post please give me a thumbs up and if you have a question or a comment please email me at [email protected]. If you didn't see it yet, be sure to check out the latest episode of Church of Valatie on LINE Webtoon, or on Deviantart. God bless, and keep your fire for God, blazing!  

#FireTime #God #Jesus #Bible #Holy Spirit #Holy Bible #Holy #Spirit #Christ #Christian #Christianity #Anime #Manga #King David #anime manga #anime art #manga art #yellow #brown #thumbs up