“Do not be too eager to deal out death and judgement. Even the very wise cannot see all ends."

This quote was one that stuck out to me, watching Lord of the Rings a few days ago. How many times are we so eager to judge people? To think down upon them? And as we watch the Fellowship of the Ring, we all know very well that Gollum still ends up bad in the end. He's too far gone. Isn't that also true with some people? So why did Gandalf stop Frodo?

Maybe Gandalf knew it maybe he didn't, but in the end, Frodo knew how Gollum felt about the ring and he knew why Gollum felt that way. The ring had taken hold of the both of them and it's grasp was never relenting. It controlled there minds, their very thoughts until they just wanted one thing--the ring itself.

But Frodo still tried. "I'm going to destroy it Gollum, for both our sakes."

We must realize that when judging people, we look past our own weaknesses and pretend we don't have any problems. Just they do. That person that's too far gone. What if that's you some day? Did you ever think about that?

Eucharisteo

Eucharisteo is the Greek word for "thanksgiving". My small group leader was telling us about some other special things behind the word.

Within the word is the Greek word "char" meaning "grace," and "chara" means "joy."

I'm going to be honest. I missed most everything else she said, but that's because one thing stuck out to me. The joy was within the thanksgiving. Remember that day when it was so hard to think of one good thing, but then a small memory comes to your mind . . . you holding a niece or a nephew, someone you love with a huge smile on their face . . . those things make you smile. They give you joy. The things you're thankful for . . . when you realized you are just that, that's when you find joy.

But now I sit here pondering on thing. What about the grace? "Char" is supposedly the root of the word "eucharisteo" and it doesn't exactly have the full "chara" then what /is/ up with the grace? Are we supposed to be thankful for grace? Well of course. But what I think we often forget is that grace is our reason to give thanksgiving, eucharisteo. Grace is our reason for joy.

When we were saved,  when we were given grace, we were given a reason the give thanks. When we were given grace we were also given a reason to smile, to have joy.

Now it comes to the last bit. Do I always have to walk around with a smile? No. You don't. You don't always have to be happy. So many times joy is mistaken as happiness. But I think there's a line to draw between the two. I believe joy is simply knowing in your heart that there's hope, knowing in your heart that you have something to smile about. Now might not be the right time to smile--now might be the right time to cry. And that's fine.

I know I'm a little late and Thanksgiving is already past, but I thought I'd still post this. =)
Eucharisteo.

~Black

Well. Hello.

I realized it's been a long time since I've actually said anything on here . . . I've kinda just posted some writing and that's it. In case anyone was wondering . . . if I didn't say the piece I posted was written by someone else, it was written by me. Just to clarify. Anywho.

I like nerd glasses. ^.^ My sis and I did a photo shoot Saturday and that was pretty epic. I went to small group last night and that was fun . . . I don't know what to talk about. I guess I should talk about something useful.

Reading is such a wonderful thing. Why? It opens the imagination, it helps you understand words and sentences more, it gives you a bigger vocabulary and you learn things. Lots of things. It teaches you to write and teaches you to write better. Books are so epically amazing. *nod*

I have to run though, so I'll do a post like this sometime again . . . but it will probably just be writing for another while . . . which isn't bad . . . but anyway. See ya! ~Black

 Glass. Shattered glass lies all around her. Her hands are beginning to numb as she attempts to pick another sharp piece of the glass out from her palm. The blood's streaming down her arm and she holds back the tears. She wants to get out, she wants to escape, but she can't. Cradling her injured hand, she shivers and tries to kick some of the broken glass away from her. Her heart had finally shattered and was gone beyond repair. She wanted it to disappear, as it only caused her more and more pain to linger there.

She still remembered the first time her heart had broke--but then it was only in two pieces instead of a million. She glued it back together . . . but that didn't last long. Glue was too artificial, and no matter how many times she tried, it wouldn't stay. She was never strong enough to force it back together.

She'd been abandoned, broken, hated, and scarred. She'd been called ugly, worthless, and rebellious. She was a sinner, and who could want her now? Who would save her? Would she be trapped in this box forever? Trapped with the pieces of her broken heart scattered at her feet?

No. Not forever. The water has risen and the it's pouring in on top of her. She can't breathe. She scratches the glass, kicks at it, but it's useless. That glass will never break. She tries to swim up, but finds that the chains around her feet are holding her down. Frantic she tries screaming, only to get a mouthful of water which she chokes on. Still struggling to break her chains she begins to fade away. She becomes completely numb and her fingers loose their grip on the cold metal keeping her from escaping. Water is pouring in her mouth and everything fades to black.

Everything is a blur--the only sound is someone coughing up water. Wait. That's her. Her lounges ache, and her throat and eyes sting. One thought is in her mind, though. Someone has saved her; she's been rescued. Her vision clears and she see Him kneeling beside her.

In exhaustion she collapses in front of Him, murmuring the question in a voice barely audible, "Why did you save me?"

With a soft whisper, He answers, "Dear child, while everyone else abandoned you, I was still here. You've been beautifully broken to the point where I can fix you. You've been hated so that you need me to love you. You have scars that I can heal. While others call you ugly I see your true beauty. While others call you worthless I am longing to open your eyes so you can see me. While others called you rebellious I knew your heart and I still wanted you. I know you're a sinner but I still want you. And dear child I still love you, more than you can ever fathom. You mean everything to me."

With those words, He holds something out to her. She takes it from Him and fingers it, turning it over and over again. Her heart has been put back together, piece by piece. It's whole again with not a scratch or crack on it. Saved. Healed. Redeemed. She smiles and glancing back up at Him, she hands it back, saying, “I'm Yours father.”

Dreams to Reality

Hope fails, beauty is lost
Color fades, till all is black
Joy is drown in an ocean of tears
Laughter turns to sounds of wailing

Smiles fade into looks of pain
Once bright eyes are dull and lifeless
Children that used to dance and play are silent
The sound that I hear chills me to the bone

He has come for us, he has found us
The Thief has come to take us all
We’re doomed to a cruel death
He will capture us and torture us

I hear his growls, I hear the hate
The screams, the cries
Oh God save us!
Save us from the cruel deceit~Black