|
crazyme414
|
read my profile
sign my guestbook
Name: Zion
Birthday: 1/3/1993
Gender: Female
Interests: Lots of stuff, Playing the fiddle, Making noise, acting, I love sports but am not usually competative...it takes a lot to get me into a competative mood. Listening to music, and being Obnoxious, Also getting a kick out of everything rather than looking at it from the dull point of veiw.I LOVE Singing, and it's one of my dreams to become a song writter, though I don't see that dream coming to pass.
Expertise: I love to play the fiddle,and I'm also really good at BBQ my baking,breaking strings on my fiddle,Singing ferosiously,banging on the piano, and sports, and I'm an expert at injuring myself, I'm also proud to note that I'm pretty good at making friends.
Occupation: Student
Industry: Newspaper Delivery, Babysitter
Message: message me
Website: visit my website
MSN: upsidown_ambulance_116@hotmail.com
Yahoo:  zion_b_soles@yahoo.ca
Member Since:
7/27/2006
|
|
| Yesterday when I was delivering papers, I came across a little black cat who so desperately wanted to be pet that I couldn't deny him. I got down on my knees and scratched him behind the ears, under the chin, and in all a cats favorite places. Right when I was about to leave, he crawled up my arm and perched himself on my shoulders. I adored him.
I stood up and walked to the next house, where he jumped onto the steps. I pet him a few more times, then I left. He didn't follow me, but rather sat on the front steps and watched me calmly till I was out of sight. It was then that I began to question his motives. Had he just used me as a chauffeur from one house to the next? Cats are such crafty little plotters.
| | |
| Let me tell you what I see when I look at our culture. I’ll start out with the biggest invisible monster of all time, it’s called feminism.
Today we have woman thinking they are equal to men in everything, and in order to prove it they take heavy, stressful jobs that men have the naturally built in strength and stamina to do. Jobs such as border guards, police officers, fire fighters, soldiers, F.B.I agents, marines and so on. The fact is, woman are weaker than men, and they were designed for less heavy work. Woman was designed for things that men could never do, but she has forsaken her calling. (which I won’t get into if I expect to get where I wanna go)
We will now move onto the topic of lazy, unrespectable, disrespectful men. Girly guys. Feminism has effected the guys as well. From the beginning of time, man has been using his God given helper (woman) as his guinea pig. When woman no longer thinks she needs mans respect and protection, man lays down the plough. If he doesn’t have to do the work, he won’t. Young men today are under the impression that life is a game, and if you win, you get everything you need to make you happy. Money and pleasure.
Deep within every soul is our calling. Women have a deeply ingrained desire to be loved and protected and provided for, and though this desire can be half drowned, it’s still there. It’s always there. It’s natural for girls to want to feel safe, to have boundaries, and especially to want to be loved.
Men have a deeply ingrained desire to love, protect and provide, but when the woman takes up the plough, thinking she has no need of protection, love or provision, suddenly man becomes somewhat useless, and his desire to let someone else lead for once overcomes his need to lead.
Thus the ones who need to be led and protected are suddenly in the front line of battle protecting themselves, and leading the army.
Everyone uses everyone else for their own pleasure. Sex is our cultures idol. If you’re not good at that you’re a failure. The ultimate goal is to become so good at sex by the time you find the person you wanna be with, that you’ll be able to lure them in with your slick moves, and they’ll want to stay with you forever. I warn you right now, this is NOT failsafe. Women in general have hopes of reeling in the right guy, settling down, and maybe having a kid, but men in general don’t have any intention of settling down at all. Once he’s tired of that one he wants to be free to move onto the next one, and he most certainly does not have marriage on his mind.
Marriage is looked upon by our culture as a prison of commitment. We have fridge magnets that read ‘forget marriage! I don’t mate well in captivity.’ Marriage is too much of a commitment, and commitment of any kind is considered, or should I say, is not considered at all. Why marry when you can live comfortably together, and leave if you need to without having to do a ton of paperwork over it.
So everyone uses everyone else, and accident after accident occurs in which a 13-17 year old girl gets pregnant by accident. Abortion is on demand. It’s a quick, easy escape for a young girl who can’t handle a baby, or who’s parents or boyfriend are pressuring them to get rid of it. Thus after the baby is gone, the young girls suffer emotionally and physically and often commit suicide.
Children are considered a curse. Obama, President of the U.S.A. stated, “If my daughter got pregnant by accident, I wouldn’t want her to be cursed with a baby.” When we consider children, we suddenly realize all our ‘me time’ is toast. As soon as you have a child, your punishment begins.
If a girl does decide to keep her baby, she has no idea how to raise a child. She herself is an immature child, and what could she possibly teach her child that would help him grow up to be wiser than she? Once her baby is born, the government becomes over protective. Spankings are prohibited for the safety of the child’s buttocks, but when the rod of correction is spared, he becomes an intolerable, disrespectful monster.
Many people are under the impression that all children are like this naturally, because lack of discipline is a very common flaw in the act of raising a child. The single mom has no choice but to drop off her baby at daycare while she goes to work, how else is she going to support her little family? So by the time he’s six years old, she barely even knows her own little boy, and he’s starting school. She would never do something so absurd as home schooling him because she still has to work, so off to public school with Jonny.
Mom finds herself longing for Jonny to be gone all the time. “Don’t any of your friends ever have you over?” By the time Jonny is ten, he’s already gathered a bad crowd of perverted friends, but mom doesn’t care, as long as he’s not under her feet. “Go to school, go learn about sex, take drugs, drink too much, just don’t make that girl pregnant.” By the time mom does care about what’s going on in Jonny’s life it’s too late, she hold no respectable position in his life to have any control over him. Her own son has turned into the exact image of his father before him, and who knows what happened to that guy?
This is the culture we live in, where me, money, me, pleasure and me are the only things anyone ever thinks about. But doesn’t anybody ever stop to wonder if life was really meant to be like this?
| | |
| Thin walls surround my scattered dreams,
Enclosing them, and building them,
But just before they reach their height,
The wind again, to shatter them.
So weary bend my back again,
Enclosing them, and building them,
Then the strong wind comes again,
I sadly watch them fall again,
To weak to build the wall again,
To dust they turn, they blow away
In years I will recall again,
The battered dreams of yesterday.
| | |
| Peering through the thick glass of a rocket ship window, the earth looks so peaceful. Quietly making it’s daily turns while the sun plays across its surface. But we want a closer look. Take out a spyglass. Now we’re zooming in on the peaceful world; closer and closer. We can see the ripple of the waves on the ocean, the walls of sand that blow through the desert, the gentle breeze ruffling tree tops. Our eyes rest on a beautiful country in Southeast Asia, this is Myanmar.
We look closer, hoping to see some of the people, but as we zero in, our mouths drop in horror. We are looking at Buddhist temple, hundreds of dark skinned men dressed in long orange garments are prostrate before a statue of a man, very large around the middle. His head is thrown back as if in laughter as he sits cross legged on a throne. His fat arms rest on his knees, and his droopy earlobes hang all the way down to his rounded shoulders. He has the look of an oversized, overweight baby.
The men who lay prostrate before him are all shaved bald to show that they are monks. They are all praying earnestly that the little fat man will rise up and conquer the communist government. Even small children are praying, their heads shaved and their bodies clad in the long orange robes of the monks.
Throughout Myanmar, thousands upon thousands of these monks are all pouring their hearts and souls and tears out before this god, confident that if they just pray hard enough he will answer them. Even woman in their homes kneel before him, their long black hair drenched with tears as they cry out to him to save them from the soldiers that ravage their country. But though their tears fall, their god is nothing but a fat little statue and he will remain thus. He cannot hear them, he cannot see them, nor can he feel them.
Now we look beyond what the human eye can see, this is the spirit realm. Wild red eyes gleam with a light that the sun did not mirror, breath like sulfur engulfs him like a shadow, his claws penetrate the minds of those that are given wholly to him. He is slowly drawing each and every one of them toward the chasm. He is Buddha, he is their god. But he is unlike any god a human would run to for comfort. He delights in bloodshed, and loves to see the righteous fall, he is a demon these people would flee from if they could only see him, but he has covered their eyes, and they are following him blindly, like sheep for the slaughter. Welcome to Myanmar.
| | |
| So I sponsored another child today. <3 This time a little girl from Haiti. Her name is Jenny Joseph and she's five years old. My mother just recently gave me a book on giving and being a good steward by Randy Alcorn. I was reading it, and feeling like a very bad steward, so I started to pray about what I ought to do. Did I need to change my future goals? It is now a week later since I started praying about this, and I've come to my conclusion. I'm only sixteen, I have my whole life ahead of me, and what to I have to loose by giving money that belongs to God to help little children? What's the point in me saving up to buy a truck that I don't need, when there are people in poverty and I have what it takes to get them out? I'm so excited, I should get my picture of Jenny within' ten working days as I am SO excited! | | |
|
