I found something today that I'd forgotten about until now, but it amused me enough to put it on here for today's post.

A few years back, when I was in the ninth grade, I had to write an opinion article about a controversial issue for my creative writing class. My teacher ended up sending it into the newspaper, and they published it within the next week. Here is the link: the amazingness. And here is a copy of what I wrote:

Letter: Hate not part of God's plan

"God hates faggots."

This slogan has spread through America during the past few years, spoken by people who claim to be Christian, spreading hatred toward homosexuals with Web sites, speeches, banners and that motto.

I am a Christian and I believe homosexuality is wrong, but there is no reason to hate someone simply because of a lifestyle with which you disagree.

God is a God of love and mercy, not hate.

John 3:16 does not say, "For God so loved the world - unless they are gay."

God loves the world, homosexual or not, and he would not want so-called Christians going around spreading hatred in his name.

If we really want to change a lifestyle we disagree with, and teach anyone what being Christian means, we need to express our views through love, or we will convert more people to atheism than Christianity.

Emily Whelchel

Now, my dad is a doctor, and he knows a lot of people, and so all day after this was published, random people kept coming up to him and saying things like, "Your daughter's article in the newspaper was a riot!" Now my dad had no clue I had even written this article, and so when he finally got his hands on a newspaper, upon reading the first sentence, he later told me that he had to set the paper down for a moment because he was so afraid that I had written something terrible about gay people.

I tend to say what I feel about certain issues, and so I'm sure that that was a legitimate fear in the back of my dad's mind. But anyways, when I saw this article for the first time in a couple of years, it brought back some amusing memories, and I hope this made you smile too.

I still agree with myself, by the way.

So yesterday, if you read my last post, you found out that I am a terrible miniature golf player.  Today, I discovered a new hidden talent of mine.  I bet you'll never guess it.  Can you guess what it is?

Laser tag. 

That's right, laser tag.  I got second place out of everybody in my family.  I'm very proud. 

Actually, I'm shocked.  I think it was my code name that helped me score the way I did.  You see, we did not get to pick our code names.  They came with the gun that we were given.  While everyone else in my family got names like "Falcon" and "Venom" and "Viper", my alias was "Barney."  I still have no clue why any of the staff members would pick a name like that, but I suppose that it didn't hinder me all that much.

Later in the afternoon, the family and I went to see Dolly Parton's Dixie Stampede.  In case you haven't heard of that show, it is located in a coliseum of sorts where you sit down and watch a live show with horses and cowboys and singers while you enjoy a four course meal.

I have nothing but good things to say about the show, which at one point featured a lifelike nativity scene scene with real camels and sheep and basically shared the gospel with the audience.  The only real complaint I have of this Dixie Stampede is the way you're supposed to eat your food.

Here is a list of what I was given during the show: a biscuit, cream of vegetable soup, an entire chicken, half a potato, a slab of ham, corn on the cob, and an apple turnover.   

I have no complaints about the quality of the food.  It was all very good.  My only complaint is that we were given no silverware!  I think it was supposed to be a joke... because it was very difficult and messy to pull apart a greasy chicken with my bare hands and slurp up the cream of vegetable soup without a spoon... but I sure would have preferred it if thirty seconds into the prank, someone would have jumped out with a tray of silverware, saying, "Just kidding.  You don't have to make a mess, Emily!  I know you prefer to be neat and tidy!  Here's a fork!"  But that didn't happen, so I ate the food messily.

A huge wonder of the night was the chickens.  Every single person that came to see the Dixie Stampede got a full chicken.  They were small.  They were good.  While we looked around with amazement at the hundreds of poultry being passed around the room, my dad leaned in to whisper to me, "That's a lot of dead chickens."  I agree.    

Today was a good day, but I am ready to return home tomorrow.  We will be leaving bright and early in the morning, but that means that we'll arrive back in Texas earlier too, so I guess I'm okay with that.   

This morning, my family and I got up bright and early and after breakfast, we all went to play miniature golf.  We split up into two groups of five people each, and then a third group of latecomers came along later on.  I was in a group with my dad, Luke, Amy, and Nawnie (my grandma). 

I am very proud to say that I made my first (and probably my only) hole in one today.  I am not so proud to say that I lost the game to my 76 year old grandmother. 

These are strange times. 

Even stranger, my 69 year old grandfather got second place overall in our other group.  Apparently, old people are whizzes at miniature golf.  I don't know how they do it.  I can only wish that I could have their putt-putt skills.

After our journey through the miniature golf course, we went to an outlet mall and shopped for a while, and then we arrived at an older theater that resided along the Branson strip.  We were there to see Tony Roi, the Elvis Experience.  After we sat down and got comfortable, the curtains opened, the stage lights flashed in a multitude of colors, and the King stepped out in full Elvis attire. 

Throughout the show he would motion for various women to come up to the stage.  There, he would wipe off his sweat with a scarf, wrap the scarf around their necks, and kiss them rather passionately... and considering the age of some of the women he kissed, I'm not sure that this was such a pleasant thing for him to endure.

During intermission, "Elvis" stood onstage and allowed his fans to come up and take a picture with him.  When I walked up there, he looked at me, took my hand, and said, "Wow... oh, wow, honey.  You have a beautiful soul.  A beautiful, beautiful soul." 

"Thank you," I replied in bewilderment, wondering why on earth he would say something like that.  I answered a couple of questions, telling him my name and where I was from, and then he told me again that I had a beautiful soul, and still holding my hand in his, he puckered his lips and began to lean closer... closer...

Mortified, (he is quite a few years older than me, after all) I turned my head so that his lips brushed my cheek instead of my mouth.  He took it all in stride, we posed for a photo, and then I scrambled off the stage.  My family was cracking up from their seats. 

I can imagine the story that could have been...  "My very first kiss was from a 40-something year old Elvis impersonator."  Lovely.

After this, we went to a wax museum.  I haven't visited one of those since I was in London, and so I had a blast posing for pictures with all of my heroes.  Just about anyone you could imagine was in this museum: Elvis, Marilyn Monroe, Men in Black, Spiderman, Leonardo DiCaprio, Pirates of the Caribbean, etc. etc.  There was even a scary section that hosted various mummies, serial killers, skeletons, vampires, and zombies. 

After the end of the wax museum was a maze of mirrors.  We raced through the maze, laughing and running into the slick glass.  At one point, I was separated from my family.  As I gazed around me in sudden despair, I felt completely alone, even though I heard the screams of my family echoing all around me.  I thought I would never get out!  After maybe five minutes, I found them again and relief surged through every part of my being.  We finally found the exit, and then spent another five minutes laughing at our reflections in the goofy fun house mirrors before leaving the building.

Oh, yes.  Before I end this long journal-like entry about my day in Branson, I must tell you about something else that happened to me.  Actually, I don't think words can describe my feelings about what happened.  I'll show you a picture instead.


Yes, we finally were married.  I can now die in peace.

 

I am currently writing this from Branson, Missouri.  I left my house at eight in the morning, and arrived in Branson at seven thirty this evening.  It has been a long day. 

Upon arrival, my dad rushed into the hotel room in order to watch the Cowboys game, and the rest of us went to Ruby Tuesday's for dinner and then we went through a trail of lights. 

There were eight of us stuffed into my mom's minivan, plastered against the foggy windows, gazing in wonder at all of the lights.  We passed through the 12 Days of Christmas, the Zoo, the Victorian Village, the North Pole, and Candy Land.  The journey was short, but breathtaking.  I haven't been through a light show in a long time, and I don't think my brother has ever been through one at all.

I don't have much time to write tonight, and today there really wasn't much to write about, but I did want to share our experience.  If you have have the chance to drive through a light show, I definitely recommend it.  There's just something about sparkling Christmas lights that lifts the spirit and brightens the remainder of your day.

 

The other day, I went caroling at a nursing home along with some others that go to my church.  We wandered the halls, singing loudly and wishing the elderly a merry Christmas. 

At one point, we arrived at a room that belonged to a married couple.  They said that they had been married for seventy-eight years!  Can you imagine?  I've got to say, if I ever get married and live to be that old, I would like to share a room in my nursing home with my husband instead of with some crazy old person I don't even know... 

As everyone left their room, ready to find another set of seniors to serenade, I stayed behind to wish this couple (that I greatly admired) a merry Christmas. 

The woman, whose name was Elda Dean, smiled sadly.  "This is going to be a difficult year for us, but at least we're together, and the good Lord is going to see us through this hard time.  We know He will."  Her husband was listening and nodding with agreement.  It was obvious that the couple was unhappy about something, but I didn't know what.

"Well, would you like me to pray for you?" I offered hesitantly. 

Elda Dean's face lit up when I asked her this.  "If you could, I would like that very much," she replied eagerly. 

So I prayed.  It was a short prayer, but with every phrase I spoke, Elda Dean and her husband echoed my words with "Yes, Lord,"s, and "Amen, Hallelujah,"s. 

After the prayer, I stood up and wished them a merry Christmas once again.  Elda Dean looked at me with tears in her blue eyes, and she said, "This is the first Christmas we won't be able to spend with our family, and it's very hard.  We've got each other now, and that's all, but you've encouraged us both." 
 
Elda Dean's husband reached out from his bed to touch my hand, and he said, "We are Christians, and we believe in the Lord.  We believe that He will take care of us.  And miss, when you celebrate Christmas this year, please think about us and remember to pray." 

"I will," I promised, and left the room.  A bittersweet feeling flooded my chest.  It felt good to pray for someone and to know that I had encouraged a heavy heart or two, but it was also sad to know that even though I may have been encouraging, Elda Dean and her husband were still going to have a difficult Christmas without their family.

Today is Christmas Day, and I would like to remind you to be thankful for whatever family you're spending your Christmas with, for the nice home that you're staying at, for the wonderful Christmas food that you've been eating.  There are many people who are going without these things this year.  Always remember them.  They need your prayers.       

Today is Christmas Eve, in case you missed the memo. 

My family and I went to the annual candlelight service.  As always, we had worship and a short message, and then our pastor lit the first candle.  He walked to the front row and lit the candle next to him, and then that man lit his wife's candle, and she lit her child's candle, and so on, until our entire church was illuminated by the glow of several hundred flickering lights.

After everyone's candle was lit, we lifted our candles into the air as one until the room was bright with light. 

I'm short and could not lift my camera high enough to give you the full picture, but as I stared around me at the large room, at the shining candles that represented the light of Christ, I could only feel encouragement and joy.  We were one in the Lord.  Together, our church body was celebrating the birth of our Savior, the birth of Jesus.

 

Before we continued with the holiday hustle and bustle, with the crazy chaos of our lives, we were taking a moment to show that we remembered the reason why Christmas even exists.  

I do not know what you are doing this year for Christmas, but whatever craziness is going on in your life this year, be sure to take a moment and remember the Child who started it all.  He is the "reason for the season."  He is Jesus Christ, our Lord.

Luke 2:1-20

In those days Caesar Augustus issued a decree that a census should be taken of the entire Roman world. (This was the first census that took place while Quirinius was governor of Syria.) And everyone went to his own town to register.

 So Joseph also went up from the town of Nazareth in Galilee to Judea, to Bethlehem the town of David, because he belonged to the house and line of David. He went there to register with Mary, who was pledged to be married to him and was expecting a child. While they were there, the time came for the baby to be born, and she gave birth to her firstborn, a son. She wrapped him in cloths and placed him in a manger, because there was no room for them in the inn.

 And there were shepherds living out in the fields nearby, keeping watch over their flocks at night. An angel of the Lord appeared to them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified. But the angel said to them, "Do not be afraid. I bring you good news of great joy that will be for all the people. Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you; he is Christ the Lord. This will be a sign to you: You will find a baby wrapped in cloths and lying in a manger."

 Suddenly a great company of the heavenly host appeared with the angel, praising God and saying,
 "Glory to God in the highest,
      and on earth peace to men on whom his favor rests."

 When the angels had left them and gone into heaven, the shepherds said to one another, "Let's go to Bethlehem and see this thing that has happened, which the Lord has told us about."

 So they hurried off and found Mary and Joseph, and the baby, who was lying in the manger. When they had seen him, they spread the word concerning what had been told them about this child, and all who heard it were amazed at what the shepherds said to them. But Mary treasured up all these things and pondered them in her heart. The shepherds returned, glorifying and praising God for all the things they had heard and seen, which were just as they had been told.

 

Here is proof that I can be wrong sometimes.  Just thought I'd let you know.

So yeah, it did snow.  And it's still snowing.  And considering that it doesn't show any signs of stopping (I'm making Christmas lyrics relevant, haha), I figure we're probably going to get our five inches after all.

Aw, man. 

The weather today is just lovely.  The sun is shining.  The sky is a clear blue, without a cloud in sight.  The grass is green.  There's a light breeze, but not enough to keep away the heat of the day.  Do you want to see?  I'll show you a picture that I took from my porch this morning.  Here it is:




Okay, the truth is that the weather outside is nice... somewhere in the world.  And wherever that nice weather is right now, I would sure like to be there!  I think the sun may have disappeared from my town for a while.  Instead of pretty sunshine, all that's left is mug and fog and cold.  Perfect December weather. 

Actually, I'm a bit relieved.  It was supposed to snow at least five inches this morning, and since the morning time is nearly gone, I have this lovely feeling that the snow will not fall today.  I prefer fog much more than snow.

I figure I won't be getting out much today, so I may end up writing another post later on about what I intended to write on earlier. 

Either way, the countdown clock has begun... two days till Christmas.  Hope you've finished shopping.  

Today my mom and Amy and I went to the mall.  Amy and I left my mom at Dillards so that we could go to the food court and eat some lunch.  I was waiting on Amy, standing a few feet away and talking to my friend Marshall when a teenage guy who was about fourteen years old walked up to me, grinning widely. 

"You dropped your name tag," he told me proudly.

I was baffled.  I glanced down to see if I was wearing something that made me look like a mall employee, but I was only wearing sweats and a tee shirt.  I was about to explain that I don't wear a name tag, that he mistook me for somebody else, when he handed me something, flashed an even wider grin, and literally ran off. 

This is what he gave me.

I stared after him in complete shock.  So many questions were running through my mind.  Why did he do this to me?  Why did he put me in such an awkward position?  Why did he take off running after giving it to me?  And last, but not least, why me?

I'm still confused.

After the kid ran off, Amy turned to me and said in a slightly awed voice, "I thought that only happened to people in movies." 

All I have left to say is, if Will Smith from the Fresh Prince of Bel-Aire was here, he would be applauding this fellow's audacity and corniness.  But I'm just a little disturbed.

  

I would like to dedicate today's post to Pastor Don Lane, who passed away this morning from leukemia.  He was an amazing example of what a strong, Christian man should be, and he proudly shined Christ's love for all of Amarillo to see.  He has influenced so many people during his life, and his dreams will continue to move forward.  We know where he is right now, and that is with his Lord in heaven.  Please pray for the family and for all those he touched with his life. 

Another thing that baffles me is the great detail gone into the making of this man.  Notice his long, stringy mullet... the patches on his clothing... he even looks like he has cloths or something wrapped around his feet- either that, or the toes of his shoes have holes in them.  He also has some scruff on that chin of his, and he seems to be quite jolly despite all of the smelly rubbish scattered around him.  Maybe because he captured the duck.

I really don't know whether to congratulate my brother for being open to all people, or scold him for being insensitive.  I just don't know.  All I know is that I had to share this drawing, and let you into the mind of Luke.

Sometimes this child worries me.

But yes, this beam was positioned directly under my bed, meaning that if too much pressure was put on top of it, the floor could cave in around me.  Which isn't a comforting thought when you are trying to sleep.

It turns out that my dad was backing out of the garage when he thought to himself, "Oh, Emily's friend's car might be parked outside!"  So he opened his door to get out and check, but he didn't put his car in park, so his door slammed into the pillar and cracked it. 

The beam is still not fixed, and so I am at my computer on the other side of the room with my camera positioned beside me, ready to take a picture when the floor crumbles down into the garage below me. 

That would be a cool picture, don't you think?

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All I can ask is why? 

He had to try to destroy our ears when he was a contestant on American Idol.  Why burn out our eyes too?  Why do this to us?

Why draw out his fifteen minutes of infamy any longer than he has to?

Why this title?  "Dancing to the Music in My Head: Memories of the People's Idol."  He wasn't the people's idol.  He was the people's terror.  And "dancing to the music in my head" sounds almost schizophrenic. 

What on earth could he have endured in his life that is fascinating enough to write about in memoirs other than his frightening hair and murderous voice? 

No, I did not purchase this book.  I could not bring myself to endure the humiliation of having it in my book shelf.

My eyes are still burning.  Where is the bleach again?

Even my teacher stopped what he was doing for a moment to give me a look of confusion when he called on me to answer a question.  That almost made it worth it. 

Though I write this in a completely sarcastic tone, I am not angry.  I am laughing.  This was all in good fun. 

And I took out the style as quickly as my fingers could possibly move. 

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But there is one good thing about the wind.  It stirs up the dust and gives us pretty sunsets each night. 

And just like that, if you trust in God throughout every trial in your life, your hardships will turn into something beautiful in the end, something that glorifies Christ. 

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I am only creating a possible scenario here, but maybe the original builders of this property started this house with exciting dreams of a life in the country.  Maybe they wanted a home overlooking the sunset.  Maybe they wanted to be able to see the stars every night, and smell the grass when they walked out their front door. 

But then, maybe their dreams began to fade when the harsh reality of life set in.  Finances, job loss, other shiny things that begged for them to purchase instead.  Maybe they found a fancy condo in New York and decided that city life would be better suited for their lifestyles. 

Whatever happened, this family must have begun the home with excitement, and then the excitement somehow faded away, until the home was nothing but an aging, unfinished structure, something that will sit on the face of a cliff until it crumbles away into nothing.  The stairs, the house, all of it has become worthless, unfruitful.

Sometimes our walk with Christ may become just like the staircase.  We start out excited, following His every command with pure joy.  We build our relationship with God a little more each day and we're happy about it.  But then other things come along- finances, a hectic life, a tragedy- and Christianity doesn't seem to suit our life the way we want it to... it seems much easier to focus on something else.  We don't have enough time for Him.  We find ourselves taking a break from a lifestyle that used to be lived out with eagerness and excitement.  We keep moving farther away until our relationship with Him is nothing but a crumbling structure on the face of a hill, fading a little bit more each day. 

I encourage you, don't let your relationship with Christ become like these stairs.  Don't let it be unfruitful.  Don't let it lead to nothing in the end.  Even when the excitement wears away, stay strong.  Continue the plan God has for you.  Don't let your life end up completely pointless, like useless stairs that will never help anyone.

That isn't the greatest picture, I know, but it gives you the basic idea of what the ring looks like.  Instead of my birth stone, which is bright pink and would match, like, three things that I own, I got a pearl instead, so that it will match everything.  There is a cross on one side that says WWJD, and an image of two hands holding the earth on the other. 

I actually do not have much to write about today, so I'm kind of grasping at straws. 

On lazy Fridays like this one, there really aren't many things to talk about.  Sometimes it's just best to take a break and relax.  I'll write about something better tomorrow. 

I spoke for about thirty minutes, and then after, I sat at a table in the back of the room and signed books.  It was cool to be able to meet the people who listened to what I had to say and learn their names.  By the end of the night, my signature was getting more and more messy!

Before I spoke, when my grandma and I were praying and preparing in a back room that was completely painted pink, I practiced what I was going to say ahead of time... most of which I completely threw out the window when I actually got up there to speak.  I'm really not much of a speaker, but I was shocked to see that everyone was attentive and listened, and some people seemed to be really touched by what I said, which is all I could ask for. 

I told the story of when I was at a basketball game, hanging out with some kids that weren't necessarily Christian.  While we were hanging out, a guy pulled me aside and said, "You seem different from everybody else... happier, maybe, I don't know... what makes you so different?"  Embarrassed and shy, I replied, "Nothing makes me different... I'm just a happy person."  I missed the opportunity, and I never want to miss another opportunity like that again.

I hope I didn't tonight.

Several teens stood up and went into another room to be counseled for salvation.  A few more rededicated their lives to Christ. 

I left City Church feeling encouraged by the smiling faces and the fellowship.  I hope I made some kind of an impact. 

On the way home, I heard a song by Nichole Nordeman called "Legacy," and it truly expressed what I am feeling today.  It goes:

"I want to leave a legacy.
How will they remember me?
Did I choose to love?
Did I point to you enough
To make a mark on things?..."

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This year for me, and I don't know why, seems to be more exhausting than exhilarating.  I am finding myself wearied about things that used to thrill me.  Even getting up and going to church is starting to turn into a monotonous, repetitive task- something that I do every single week without fail.  When my alarm clock rings for the morning, I can barely open my eyes.  I read a chapter or two of the Bible every night.  I used to feel eager about it.  Now I just feel... blah.  You may feel the same way.

And why is that, I wonder?

Is this holiday season stocked so full with commercialization and the hustle and bustle of everyday life to the point that it is wearying us beyond excitement?  Are we forgetting the real reason behind why we should be excited about life?  About God? 

The apostles in the Bible were absolutely stoked about Christ.  They wanted everybody to know that they were happy.  I mean, read about them.  They sang and rejoiced while they were being flogged with whips.  They weren't satisfied with their lives, but not in the same way that we might be now.  They weren't feeling bored... no, they weren't satisfied because they wanted to do more for Christ, to tell more people about Him, to share until the whole world heard. 

Who have you told about Jesus lately?  Seriously, when was the last time you witnessed to someone?

Over the summer, I have a lot of free time, and because of that, I enjoy going on mission trips and going to the park to witness to kids and volunteering at mission-based organizations.  I get to see the work of Christ unfolding before my very eyes.  It's so easy to become excited about something that is so tangible, something that you are experiencing every single day.

Now, life is so busy.  Many of us may not see God in the same way as we did four or five months ago.  We might not be as focused on serving solely Him anymore.  And that needs to change.

I'm not quite sure yet what it's going to take.  Maybe we need to make ourselves be over exuberant during worship time at church until we start to feel true excitement about praising Him.  Maybe we need to volunteer our spare time more.  Maybe we need to be out there, witnessing to the world, even during the school year, because there are still too many people who do not know Him.

I am going to try and write more about this in a few days, but until then, I want to strongly encourage you to fight against the December blah-ness.  Don't let yourself become apathetic and world-weary.  Find excitement and joy in simple things.  And most of all, shine like a spotlight until Jesus can be openly seen wherever you are.  Shine through the apathy, shine through the commercialism, shine through the lazy contentment, shine through everything until everyone can see Him inside of you.