christmas 'round the corner

Christmas time is right around the corner. How odd! I cannot believe how quickly this year has passed. Thank God this semester is wrapping up. I have 3 exams left. And then I am off to India for two weeks. I feel so unprepared! Yikes! I think more than anything I'm fearful that I'll come back exactly the same. Not that I won't care more for orphans or for different peoples. I'm afraid I'll come back just as dry as when I left. Alas. I share the sentiments of John in the last chapter of Revelation. "Come, Lord Jesus."

want a plane that loops the loop

i still want a hula hoop

a prayer for the brokenhearted

A Prayer For The Broken Hearted 1. No day in my life has past,  That hasn't proved me guilty  Prayers are uttered too fast  From a heart that's cold and empty. Chorus: Oh Blessed Jesus,  May we find a covert in thy wounds Though our sins, they rise to meet us, How they fall next to the merits of you 2. Oh, all in me calls for this  It calls for my rejection  This heavy unrighteousness,  Oh is there no protection? Bridge: My best services are rags, my best deeds are filthy. Repeat Chorus 3. Grant me hear thy shoring voice,  That in thy wounds is pardon  Grant me see thy willing choice  To make my hard heart softened  Bridge 2: Keep the broken-hearted sure,  Clinging to thy cross, our cure. Repeat Chorus Twice © 2006 Petit Bateau Music (ASCAP).

Words: Chelsey Scott Based on a prayer from "The Valley of Vision" Music: Chelsey Scott

get behind me santa

In one of my classes a while back (in fact, I wrote most of this blog back in September but never finished writing it until now), we had to discuss the negative and positive effects of teaching our children the myth of Santa Claus. First of all, I'm annoyed at my professor's presumptions that all people love the myth of Santa and that no one wants to surrender it, even if it's for the better of their children. Further, she laughed upon the idea of any child not believing in Santa. (Just so you know, I was one of those kids. Perhaps my parents were bad liars or I was just too cynical at birth, but I never believed a fat guy came down my chimney--the chimney I've never had.)

There was a lot of discussion and murmuring on both sides of the issue. Disturbingly, though, the only solid reasons people could give in favor of telling your children the myth of Santa was that they would be that one kid in the class who knew the truth, and they may tell other kids that they're believing a lie. Oh, what a travesty! There were no arguments for the benefits of telling them about Santa except that they may not be able to conform to the world at a young age.

All kidding aside, what are we learning by promoting Santa? If you are good you get presents and if you're bad you get coal. This Santa knows what you're doing at all times, knows when you cry and when you laugh, everything. What are we teaching our kids, really? That in order to receive gifts you must present yourself worthy? I would much rather my kids believe they received gifts because they are loved, not because they were "good" enough. No wonder we have a complex over whether or not God loves us. We have been taught since birth that only the "good" kids get shown love and the others get crap thrown at them. May it never be said that God treats His children that way. He loves beyond our disobedience. He is faithful beyond our unfaithfulness. Praise God for He is a good father, very unlike our Santa Claus.

bad decision

For my CRTW (Critical Reading, Thinking, & Writing) we were prompted to analyze our thinking through a bad decision using Nosich's fundamental elements of critical thinking. Here is my intro paragraph. I think it sums up well how this semester has started:

The clock reads 10:35 PM the night before the paper is due. The page holds a measly twenty-eight words, including the title and date, of course. The goal comes into view, yet the execution of the task at hand still becomes upset by text messages, slight thirst and developing eyestrain. Distractions, though, must at last lose their power to sway attentions, and all other priorities must wait until tomorrow to be addressed. Progress comes slowly, and everything within the writer groans, “How did it come to be like this? What on earth were you thinking?” Indeed, the writer contemplates the same question. There were many reasons for such a delay in writing, including but not limited to psychology tests, prior commitments and a praying mantis, but the single most influential factor has seemingly been a general lack of discipline in the midst of a hectic lifestyle.