Something different

Well, I have not really had much time to come up with a story for you guys since I have been on vacation. So instead I will post something far far different!


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Theme: God
Genre: Sermon!
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Ok, so I kinda had worked on this little study I made up for a bit, and now I am gonna present it to you guys, so comments please. I would like to know your thoughts.


God is a restaurateur, and he makes some of the best food you could ever hope to make. I mean this food is phenomenal, it fills you up, makes you feel full and complete and just great! This food I am talking about is His own spirit, the Holy Spirit. Imagine if you will, walking through the door to meet the most genuine host/waiter of your entire life. His name tag says his name is Jesus, and he is gonna be your server. As he sits you down at the table, Jesus begins to tell you a little bit about the chef, God. He tells you that He is a master at his craft, a creator of miracles in the kitchen, and the Jesus gives you something to start before you order. You bite down into your food and you can't, at first, find the right words to explain how you feel. Jesus was right, the food is incredible! Your a little different now, somehow changed, and you start to encourage the others at your table to dig in to the starters.

John 14:26 "But the Helper, the Holy Spirit, whom the father will send in My name, He will teach you all things, and bring to your remembrance all that I have said to you."

From the words of Jesus himself. The Helper, the Holy Spirit, whom God will send in the name of Jesus Christ. To teach us all things about God. What is it that the food you eat, or rather the starters even, at a restaurant does? It gives you some insight on the Chef, so does your server for that matter. Its their job to inform you of the awesome culinary creator behind those doors. A guy that you by no rights can see, but the food and the server both tell you that he is there. Jesus coming to earth was the precursor of the Holy Spirit. Jesus died so that the spirit of God could come to earth and inform us even more about God. Build that relationship even stronger.

John 16:7 "But I tell you the truth, it is to your advantage that I go away; for if I do not go away, the Helper will not come to you; But if I go, I will send him to you."

Your server has to go away so he can bring you the food! This is where exploration comes in! This is where its the foods job to tell you about the chef. This is when the Holy Spirit fills us like a cup and our relationship with God begins. We can't see the chef, but we know he is there. The food tells us he is, and the chef is informed, trust me, on how we feel about the food!

John 16:13-14 "But, when He, the Spirit of truth, comes, He will guide you into all the truth; He will not speak on His own initiative, but whatever He hears, He will speak; and He will disclose to you what is to come. He will glorify Me, for He will take of Mine and disclose it to you."

So now what happens? The food is on our table and we are eating our fill, learning more and more about this awesome chef. What does one normally do when they find a dish they like? They recommend it to others around them! I have an awesome meal, I am gonna tell others to try it out! I might even tell other people at other tables about it!

Isaiah 61:1-3 " The Spirit of God is upon me, because the Lord has anointed me to bring good news to the afflicted; He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives and freedom to prisoners..."

I understand that last part might be a little much for this reference, but lets look at that first sentence. " The Spirit of God is upon me, because the Lord has anointed me to bring good news to the afflicted;"
This is a nice little example of what happens to us when we are filled with the Holy Spirit. When your filled with Gods Spirit, and his love, and grace, and mercy, and all those things that make a relationship with God so worth while, you get to a point where you can't contain that anymore, you gotta spread the word! And that is exactly what God calls us to do.

Matthew 28:18-20 "Then Jesus came to them and said, 'All given to me. Therefore go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything I have commanded you. And surely I am with you always, to the very end of age.'"

That right there is the great commission. Its God's call for us to further his kingdom, to go out and make disciples of others. Fill ourselves with the chef's food, with God's Holy Spirit, and get out there and tell everyone how great it is. However...we must be careful in this! Because if we are not careful, we can find ourselves being overly zealous about the food, and in our fervor, we can spill the food on someone! Spilling food on someone is rather quite different than having them eat it, isn't it? Instead of actually aiding them in experiencing the food, we dump it all over their laps and suddenly, they aren't all that interested in the food anymore. Sometimes we as Christians have a tendency to just dump the Holy Spirit on someone. We tend to overload them with information, without giving the time to process it, or aid in the learning of it, and people are dumped with something they have no understanding of anymore. And then it becomes very difficult to have that person dine at that restaurant anymore. We all know someone like this I am sure. So we must be careful when we walk around that restaurant so we don't spill that food when we tell people about it!

So now by this time, your so empowered by this food that some of you have gotten up from your tables and have started going around to other tables in the restaurant.

Acts 1:8 "But you will receive the power of when the Holy Spirit has come upon you; and you shall be My witnesses both in Jerusalem, and in all Judea, and Samaria, and even to the remotest part of the earth."

Along the way, you will no doubt meet what every restaurant has, a food critic. Lets look at just what exactly a food critic is. Often it is the case that a food critic is a failed chef. A person who lacks any form of cooking skill, so rather instead he goes about judging food from everyone else. In the case of our analogy, that person is the devil. The devil rebelled against God in heaven, jealous of God. The devil cannot create, he creates nothing, all he can do is take what God has created and twist it into bitter creatures of loathing and contempt and hate. He will never be able to cook food like God can. So he sits in the restaurant and tries to waylay those who are telling others about the food. Tries to tell them that its not as good as they think it is. It is important more than ever to rely on the chef, to rely on his food. To remember that its the most filling and best tasting food you have ever had, and to encourage others in that as well.

Hebrews 10: 24-25 "Let us consider how to stimulate one another to love and good deeds, while remembering not to forsake our own assembling together, as is the habit for some, but encouraging each other, and all the more so as we see the day drawing near."

In closing, I would like to read yet another verse that kind of summarizes everything quite nicely.

John 15: 26-27 "When the Helper comes, whom I will send to you from the Father, that is the spirit of truth who proceeds from the father, He will testify about Me, and you will testify also, because you have been with Me from the beginning."

This last verse is a very fine example of everything in action. God sending his son Jesus down to earth to tell everyone about God, making way for the Holy Spirit, God's spirit to come into the hearts of us all and continue that work. To allow for a close and personal relationship with God the Father, thanks to God the Son, and the coming of God's Holy Spirit. Then we ourselves, continuing on with informing others about God because of that. Telling others about God because of our own relationship with Him, knowing more and more about Him each day.

Na'So Legend Part 1

Hey folks, I have been toying with this in my head now for a bit. It's a lead of for a Epic I am writing. It's only part one and I leave a lot of hole in it but I didn't feel like writing out the second part right now. Maybe next freebie week I will put that up. So enjoy and as always pardon the grammar. lol

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Title: Na'So Legend Part 1
Theme: Freebie Week
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When the world was first birthed things were different, the air was clear, the earth was pure and the people who lived on the land communed with nature. Yes things were very different, in the beginning. The gods and goddesses looked down at what they had made and they smiled upon it. They had but one rule, no more than 12 of them may live on their land at a time and so it would be because the first people had no concept of sex or of child birth because the gods chose to keep this knowledge from them. So for the first several hundred years all was in balance with the world and the universe around it.

However the gods and goddesses knew about such things as sex and rearing of children and soon they grew bored with their life of luxury. The gods have few rules but their cardinal rule is that no god shall reproduce. None of the gods knew why, just that the elder gods of past ages had decreed it so and they were too scared, that the elders would return, to cross them. Well most of the gods were scared of the elders. The king of the gods, Na knew no fear for he was the knowledge of War and Fire and it was not within him to know such things. He saw the laws of the gods as below him because he was king. He had eyes on the goddess So who held the knowledge of love and fertility. However So was terrified of the elder’s vengeance and refused the advances of the king of the gods. Na was furious with this, he was not used to being ignored or refused and he soon took it within himself to force So to be with him. One night as the goddess of Fertility slept, the king of the gods slipped in to her bed and forced himself on her. The law had been broken.

At first none of the gods knew anything; no fire fell upon the gods, there was no retribution from the elder gods of old. Everything continued on as normal. Time passed and So began to swell with child as Na continued his late night ventures into her bedchambers. The other gods began to notice the change in attitude of So and the change of her stomach as a godling swelled within it. None of the other ten gods voiced objection to what was happening, in truth they were tired of being held back by the rules the elder gods had given them. If they could break the cardinal rule and face no consequences then they could do whatever they want.

Time passed and soon So’s stomach swelled to its fullest and the birthing process was on her. As the child passed through her legs all the gods, even Na the child’s father knew something was wrong. The child was covered with black scales and fur all over its body, its face a distorted mixture of reptile and ape like features. Everyone knew it was an abomination onto life however Na picked up the child and claimed him as his son.

The child grew extremely fast and within a month it was the age of a young child close to the age of eleven. The boy’s features had not improved and he was covered from head to toe with black dragon like scales with tuffs of black and white animal hair planted around his body. He had sprouted a tail as he had grown and had taken on a lizard like gait as he walked on reverse jointed legs around the palace of the gods. He was a monstrosity but no one was willing to tell his father that. They named this child Shadi the word for gift in the old tongue.

The child grew and his godly powers soon to develop within himself, the powers that appeared were disturbing to the other gods and some had never been conceived before. He had the power to control the shadows in the day and the darkness of the night with just a thought and he could summon the dead and fallen and make them follow his commands. He had become the knowledge of dark and evil, something that was unheard of before he was born. The other gods were scared of Shadi.

By the time Shadi was a year old he grew tired of his life on the palace of the gods. He decided to go down to the people of the lands who until know knew nothing of what had happened and were living out a peaceful life. When Na found out of Shadi plans he found that to be a step too far and moved to stop his son. However Shadi was in no mood to talk to his father and when the king of the gods stepped in front of his son to block his path, Shadi waved his hand as if to brush the obstacle away and a dark wave of darkness brushed the king of the gods away.

The rest is a bit hazy after that but from what the tales say; Na didn’t like that one bit. He brought forth all his might against his son in one giant attack but Shadi waved it away in a sheet of darkness as he let out a low pitched laugh. The other gods noticing the fight; came to the aid of Na hoping to put an end to abomination’s life. Each of the gods and goddesses brought forth their might against Shadi but each attack was knocked away with ease as the darkness wrapped around him, making him stronger. The gods were knocked aside one by one as Shadi moved through them, finally coming to the last two, Na and So his parents, his hatred. It is said that a wicked smile splayed the already deformed face of Shadi as he brought up his hand and drew in the darkness from all around him, the light draining from the palace of the gods and a strange mist creeping in along the floor. The two gods stared at the dark thing that they had brought into this world and they wept, they were about to die by their own creation. They knew now why the gods should never bare children, what they were about to experience was much worse than any vengeance from the elder gods. Shadi lifted his hand and pointed it at his parents, the tales never say if he said anything to them, I would like to think he said good bye but we all know a monster like him knows not of such things. What we do know though is that just before Shadi let loose his attack the gods began to sing.

The song of the gods it is called, when the gods gave up their knowledge to the people of the lands below so that we might survive without them. The song of Fire, the song of earth, the song of wind, the song of water, the song of metal, the song of healing, the song of history, the song of wealth, the song of dreams, the song of love and the song of song. As the gods gave up their knowledge they slowly began to pass away, disappearing as their songs slowly moved to the people of the land. All but Na and So, they stayed even after they sang their songs, they would face their son to the final moment. Shadi infuriated and howling in madness as the knowledge he one day hoped to gain moved even farther away from him. Then with a twisted laugh he pointed his fist at his parents and let loose the black void held within. The blast hit the two gods and sent them flying out of the palace of the gods.

As they fell to the land below they embraced each other once more and kissed, as the two fell into the great ocean Na used the last of his power to change themselves into a pair of statues that would burn from within eternally. As they sank into the waters, the waters began to boil and a mist rose up into the land. The mist crept slowly over the world, hiding it, protecting it. The mist covered the world except for the very tips; Shadi would not be able to destroy what the two had loved so dearly.

There was only one problem, the knowledge of the dark places was what Shadi held within himself and the mist is one of the darkest places you can be. When Shadi reached the land and found out what his parents had done he was jubilant, they had done what he could have never done. He had complete control over the world and he didn’t have to lift a finger to do it. He soon unleashed his dark hordes on the people of the land. The people of the land barely escape his monsters and moved to the highest tip of the world. They named the place Dark Watch and began to build a defense against the dark one there. The people of the land were few in number but they were armed with the knowledge of the gods and soon they would have to defend against the dark god himself.
To be Continued.

The Old Man's Bridge

I was honestly worried about putting anything out that I thought was good enough, but I managed to do it and I rather like it. I wrote this story based on a most amazing photo I saw, and like one thing lead to another and this cute little tale came about. I may even expand on this one as well. Anyway, enjoy.

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Theme: Free Theme Week
Title: The Old Man's Bridge
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The Old Man’s Bridge


You ever wake up to a day where the sun is shining gently into your room, keeping you toasty warm? And I don’t mean to warm. I mean warm enough, like that extra bit of comfort your blankets don’t seem to have. Warmth that wakes you like a loving parent might wake you, telling you its time to get up and start the day. You could stay in bed just a little bit longer but you know that you don’t need to. You know that the day is gonna be perfect when you roll out of your covers and put both feet firmly on the floor. Where do you go on days like that? I mean let’s pretend for a second that on this particular day you do not have anywhere important to be. You have got the whole day to yourself (and lets be real, these kinds of days have a tendency to no show up when you have to work.). I know where I go. There is this special little bit of forest that I go to on my island that I like to think no one else knows about. The only thing that could shatter that belief is a bridge in my forest, but I don’t let that stop me from believing that this spot is mine and mine alone.

I could bore you with the details of my morning after the sun stopped in and gently woke me up, but I won’t. Instead I will cut right to the chase. The sounds of gravel underfoot are quickly replaced by the soft crunching of tree leaves and loose twigs as I step into the woods that neighbor me. The sun manages to squeeze just a little bit of itself onto my chosen path, for the canopy above me is thick with the tops of mighty trees that almost seem to bend themselves over me as I walk through a wooded corridor. I have one destination in mind. The bridge. The bridge is this old stone bridge that by rights seems to have no earthly business in the middle of a forest. There is nothing around it at all to give way to what it could be or may have been for. But its there, and it’s my quiet place. The bridge sits over top of one of the most undisturbed ponds I have ever seen in my life. Its surface like a fragile glass reflects the whole forest around it and within its shadows allows you to see within it to the bottom of the pond. You ever read the Lord of the Rings? There is a marsh that Frodo, Samwise, and Gollum find themselves trying to move through, a marsh that was once the home to a horrific battle. Frodo can see bodies, preserved bodies, in the waters of the marsh and Gollum mentions that he had tried to reach them once, but they were to far down to reach. I often wonder if this pond is similar. If the image of the bottom just appears close, but in face if one were to try and reach it, they could swim for all eternity and never set foot on its bottom. I suppose I could check, but why? I am afraid I would ruin the magic I put into that pond and managed to walk across it. So I let it rest, allowing only frogs to splash into it without disturbing its glassy surface. I could spend hours upon hours at this bridge, allowing my imagination to get away from me. Today was different, however. Today there was an older man at the bridge, sitting on a bench; a bench that I swear to you now, I never thought was there. He looked like a vagabond, a transient if you will, with a tattered top hat wit a belt tied around it. A scraggly beard, salt and pepper in color, seemed to hide any evidence to a neck, or an upper lip for that matter. The old man had a jacket draped over the bench and was wearing a light brown sweater with a checkered blue dress shirt underneath of it, its color trying but failing to make itself known within the tangles of that mighty beard. His dark brown slacks were home to an assortment of pocket watches and a tattered old brief case, which at the moment seemed to be the resting place for the bottom end of a newspaper.
“Beautiful day isn’t it sir?”
“No arguing with that, one of the better days I’d say lad.” The man’s accent was Irish, odd for these parts.
“Is that your bench? I don’t ever remember seeing it before.”
“Well if it weren’t mine, whose would it be? Especially since you ain’t seen it before, musta come with me then.”
The old man had this intense kindness in his eyes, they seemed to smile right along with him when he spoke and laughed. He was a very approachable old man to be true. So I sat down beside him, and let him to his paper before curiosity finally took control of me.
“So…you dragged this bench all the way out here?”
“Well not all the way boy. Its not a long pull from home.”
“Where’s home?”
The old man began to rustle through his newspaper until he finally seemed to land on something. He began shaking his head and talking to himself.
“Sir? Did you hear me?”
“You know, these clowns who try to predict your horoscope will never get it right. Not once. For instance today, I don’t see a single bloody thing about me running in to a rather inquisitive young lad.” He gave a smile and a wink as he spoke to me.
I couldn’t help but feel a little embarrassed; I suppose I had been a little bothersome with all the questions. All worry left though when the old man clapped me on the shoulder with a laugh and answered my question anyway.
“I live in there!”
I looked over to where he was pointing, and his finger landed right on the bridge. I had to laugh, and he started to laugh along side with me.
“That’s a bridge.” I rather humorously pointed out to him.
“Your right,” he continued to laugh. “And that’s where I live.”
“I suppose you have a little bed and bedside table on one side of the bridge, and a little kitchenette on the other side?”
“Don’t be daft boy. Trolls live under bridges, or at least Mother Goose would have you believe that, I said I live in the bridge.”
I am sad to say that the old man was completely off his rocker, or at leas he had to be. There was just no way anyone in there right mind would seriously argue as to their living situation being inside a bridge. That look in his eye though never left, and he was still sitting there smiling at me, challenging me even. I knew what was going to come next.
“I can prove it to you.”
The last thing I wanted was to have this old vagrant try and pull me under the bridge, where he would no doubt do me in. But this was not one of those days now was it? If we were all paying attention we would remember that this is in fact, a perfect day. And perfect days seem to have a sense of wonderment about them that pops up when we least expect it to. The old man folded up his news paper and placed it into his briefcase. And in an instant, and I still can’t really be sure if what I saw was what I saw, the old man folded up his bench and put that into his briefcase as well. At least I am sure this is what I think I saw, or rather, the bench was no longer there, so where could it go? The only reasonable explanation was that it went into the briefcase, which the old man with the raggedy top hat was now clipping shut and allowing drooping from one hand. He walked, ever so calmly to the bridge and stood there looking puzzled for a moment, his hand holding his chin up as he took on an expression of deep though. I suppose I had held my tongue long enough, because I blurted out rather curtly, “I suppose you don’t remember where the door is.”
“Close enough,” he said without a hiccup. “Blasted knob is always changing its spot, took me almost three days last time to find it.”
“Well suppose you ask it politely to show up, I haven’t really got three days to wait for you to find it.”
“You know…I never really thought to ask it to show up. Perhaps I’ll give that a try.” He cleared his throat. “Ahem, alright you little rascal, I’ve about had enough of this game, this young lad here seems to be in a rather hurry and I think it best we prove our point to him before he need be on his way,”
You would have had to be rather quick to catch it, I never did (it was to become something that would be one of my largest hassles in the future.). But there was a slightly off colored stone, almost brass color in shape, and yet still a stone, that showed up at the old man’s foot. He laughed with triumph and glee. Not before, of course, turning the stone like anyone might turn a door knob and having the ground at his feet turn into a cobble stone set of stairs. He started to walk down them.
“Come along boy, we mustn’t waist time.”
I will never tell you why I did what I did, but I followed him down into the door at the bottom of the stairs, and sure enough, there was indeed a home. And it was as cozy looking as any woodland cottage. There were even several windows letting sun in.
“Where did those windows come from? They weren’t outside!”
“My boy, they would have had to of been from outside, otherwise, where would the sun come from?”
I was getting a little annoyed now.
“No, I have been to this bridge as many times as I care to remember and I do not remember ever seeing any windows!”
“Perhaps you missed them then, after all, you couldn’t find the door either could you?”
There were windows where I could have sworn there were no windows and walls where there should not have been walls, and yet the view outside was unchanging. There was even a window on a wall that overlooked the pond! And if that didn’t baffle you, the patio that was sitting on the pond itself was sure to do just that!
“Where is this place?”
“The best I can explain boy,” the old man laughed. “Is telling you that it exists in the same place your wallet goes when you’ve lost it, or your keys, or even your television remote.”
“And where is that?”
“Well if I knew that I doubt I would be losing my own items!”
The whole room began to shake, decorative plates on the wall were clanging, the cupboards were making a racket and the old man sprang to his feet to keep as many things as he could from falling over. I, however, could only roll my eyes as the event brought forth yet another question. And I think the old man knew it.
“That was the woodland train.” By this point, I wasn’t even going to put up a fuss about there being no train in these woods. “Near as I can figure it, that thing rolls over here about the same time everyday. Not quite sure where it goes. Been meanin to get on that thing one day, take a bit of a vacation. Me ruddy daughters rarely come in for a visit anymore. Maybe I should hop aboard that train. Take a trip around wherever it goes. Perhaps I will sleep on the idea a little bit more.”
I had slowly made my way back towards the door, having enough weirdness for one day.
“Oh my dear boy, I am sorry I am sorry. You must be in a rush to be on your way. I tell you what, take a cookie from the jar on the counter there for your walk back, and perhaps the next chance you get you can come and visit me again.”
I took a bite from my cookie and nodded a smile at him, a genuine smile at that. There was something rather nice about being in this place; I rather enjoyed all the little surprises it added. I waved my goodbye to the old man, I never did get his name though, I suppose there was always next time. And I made my way up the stairs.

All in all, it was indeed a perfect day. It’s unfortunately a story I would never be able to tell anyone, after all, who would believe something like this. But I suppose I could settle with someone thinking me creating a tall tale. I made my way through the forest once more, the leaves softly crunching and the sound of a chocolate chip cookie crunching along with them. As the trees lightened, the sun shone through them a little bit more, curious to know as to what happened in the woods today. Gently wrapping me up in subtle warmth, it walked with me the rest of the way home.

Electro Gypsy

This story is dedicated to Savlonic and their song Electro Gypsy. Also to Mr. Weebl who gave the song to the world through flash. Sorry for the last Update as well, I had to rewrite the story because I didn't like how it read.
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Theme: Myth/Relationship
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The darkness consumed everything, from mountain to the sea; the land lay in its dark expanse. Nothing moved, the creatures, big and small settled in for the night. The wind played with the leaves of the trees making the slightest of noise as the branches swayed in its gentle embrace.

Over the darkened land lay a small village with no name, this night it is home to a very special encounter. A small caravan wagon drawn by a small donkey drew through the quiet night towards the small village. A strange sound emanated from the wagon as it drew closer and closer to the cluster of houses. The twangs and strums sounding almost futuristic as the sound grew louder and louder with each step the donkey took.

As the wagon entered into the village the noise began to slow and then stop. As the music echoed off into the distance a young man jumped out of the driver’s seat of the wagon and after dusting off his leather pants and silk shirt he pulled out a strange instrument out of the wagons back. The instrument was slug around the man’s neck, it appeared to be a guitar but instead of strings there were keys instead. The man let out a devilish grin and plugged a cord into the keytar and turned the device on. A low echoing sound burst forth from the speaker in the back of the wagon. Then as if waiting for a cue he began to play.

His fingers began to moved rapidly up and now the keys of the keytar, a beat that none had heard before burst forth from the speakers. Twangs and das mixed together to form a futuristic beat. Then after he had gotten a beat he was happy with, he began to sing.

“Yama Yamaha
Yama Yamaha
Yama Yamaha
Moog and a Casio”

He continued the same verse, over and over again until his fingers began to bleed from the extended playing of his instrument. However he seemed not to care as his keytar was soon coated in a layer of blood. He stayed like that moved back and forth in his leather pants and silk shirt until morning.

The people of this village had awoken when the stranger had come into the village. They rarely get strangers and when someone as strange as this comes to their doorstep they notice. The mayor of the village walked up to the young man as dawn began to break; hoping to ask the man why he had come to play his fine electric beat for them. Before the mayor could open his mouth to ask his question the young man began a different verse of his song.

“Here I am the electro gypsy in my caravan, it’s the future man. See me play a tune upon my Yamaha, A guitar won't do. They are to old school! Time to sell door to door; I have pegs and lucky heather! Do you like my leather pants? Oh I am so clever!”

The mayor just stood there dumb founded as this strange man played his beat and nodded to the back of his wagon where several piles of clothes pegs and bundles of lucky heather were piled. A sign noted that the pegs were thirty cents each and the lucky heather was two dollars a bundle. The mayor smiled and picked up several clothes pegs and a bundle of lucky heather and placed the money in a small tin near the gypsy’s feet. The gypsy nodded and smiled and returned to his first verse. The mayor turned around and walked back to his house for his morning breakfast.

The rest of the village did business with the electro gypsy as well and soon the man was out of things to sell. When the day was over the gypsy finally stopped paying his electronic song and placed the keytar back in the wagon and picked up his tin full of money. His fingers were still bleeding as he gathered up the reins of the wagon and motioned to the donkey to start moving again.

The electro gypsy never returned to the small village again but everyone there remembered the beat that he had played for that day and always wondering whether others were enjoying his fine electro beat.