Just One Time Around

A story from my Sunday school teacher, Randall......

"Tomorrow morning," the surgeon began,  "I'll open up your heart..." 

"You'll find Jesus there," the boy interrupted.

The surgeon looked up, annoyed....."I'll cut your heart open," he continued,  "to see how much damage has been done..."

"But when you open up my heart, you'll find Jesus in there," said the boy. 

The surgeon looked to the parents, who sat quietly.

"When I see how much damage has been done, I'll sew your heart and chest back up, and I'll plan what to do next."

"But you'll find Jesus in my heart. The Bible says He lives there. The hymns all say He lives there. You'll find Him in my heart."

The surgeon had had enough. "I'll tell you what I'll find in your heart.  I'll find damaged muscle, low blood supply, and weakened vessels.  And I'll find out if I can make you well."

"You'll find Jesus there too" said the boy. "He lives there."

The surgeon left................................ The surgeon sat in his office, recording his notes from the surgery,  "...damaged aorta, damaged pulmonary vein, widespread muscle degeneration.   No hope for transplant, no hope for cure. Therapy: painkillers and bed rest.    Prognosis…..here he paused, “death within one year."

He stopped the recorder, but there was more to be said. "Why?" he asked aloud.  "Why did You do this? You've put him here; You've put him in this pain; and you've cursed him to an early death. Why?"

The Lord answered and said, "The boy, My lamb, was not meant for your flock for long, for he is a part of My flock, and will forever be.   Here, in My flock, he will feel no pain, and will be comforted as you cannot imagine.  His parents will one day join him here, and they will know peace, and My flock will continue to grow." 

The surgeon's tears were hot, but his anger was hotter. "You created that boy, and You created that heart. He'll be dead in months. Why?"

The Lord answered, "The boy, My lamb, shall return to My flock, for He has done his duty: I did not put My lamb with your flock to lose him, but to retrieve another lost lamb."

The surgeon wept..................................

The surgeon sat beside the boy's bed; the boy's parents sat across from him. The boy awoke and whispered, "Did you cut open my heart?"

"Yes," said the surgeon.

"What did you find?" asked the boy.

"I found Jesus there," said the surgeon.

.........Sierra

Many people have told me that I should write about my two brothers, since I have blogged about my sister and mother previously. I have seen from many years of experience that there is not really anything dull about my life, having brothers in my life equals a neverending non-stop noisy house during the day. Pretty much the only time I can have a little silence would be at night. The boys go to bed a lot earlier than my sister and I. We usually spend our time reading quietly in bed and occasionally write a short story just for fun. Even at night there is no silence, as I sit in bed I think of how it might be if we had a girls vacation. My thoughts are brushed away quickly as the sound of two snoring boys float in my bedroom.

Mornings are supposed to be when you refresh your mind for the new day. You'r supposed to have a calm morning. Our mornings include my youngest brother, Colton, playing his ps2 in his room with the volume all the way up and he is usually cheering as loud as his little lungs will allow him to. (He is usually yelling at the 'team' and acting as though they could actually hear him and would do what he says.) He loves to be in charge. (Which includes his favorite thing, giving orders.)

My other brother, Buck, wakes up at 5:00 and turns on cartoons. (Which has been his show since preschool.) I still think that they are a little pointless. Although every morning I am woken up by the television and wearily dragged myself to the couch. I open my still half- asleep eyes and stare at the tv screen. (Hoping that Buck would soon get hungry and leave the remote on the couch and go have a bite to eat.)  Then I would strike. I'd grab the remote and flip it to my channnel, Animal Planet. I guess that I cant complain because the television is a lot better than waking up at 5:30 by the relentless accordian. At least the tv has a volume button!

My brothers have very odd ways of keeping themselves entertained. Buck's idea of entertainment is going into his room, and turn on a movie. I am fine with that, but once the movie is over, he simply rewinds it and replays it over and over. He replays it until he can recite each line by heart. But he does not stop there. He waits until the next time we go on a long drive and then he convinces everyone to play his favorite game. Someone says a title of a movie and the first one to say a full line first wins. They do this over and over until finally they wear everyone out. It is usually the girls who end the game first. (I think the boys are wired with a never ending energy supply!)    But Colton's game is terribe. It drives me crazy! He takes a small rubber ball about the size of a ping pong ball and throws it at the front door. Making a loud noise that echoes thoughout the house. This game is simply a mini game of baseball. Only- with one player. When he throws the ball at the door, it bounces off into the family room. He screams and cheers at his 'team' as he retrieves the ball. I think if you are ever sitting in the family room when he is playing, it is at your own risk of being pelted with balls that are coming at you from any direction. Colton cannot stand to lose. (Did I mention that in his game he is the coach, picher, and the umpire of the game.) If he is losing and the ball goes a good distance away from the door and far into the family room, he briskly runs into the family room, gets the ball and runs over to what is supposed to be home plate. He just says that it counts as an out because he claims he was a very slow runner. Colton is always the winner.

If you still dont understand how life is over here, I have plenty more stories that I wouldn't even have enough room to fit onto this page.

-Sierra

I spent this week Monday through Friday at a CCV church camp. I had a BLAST!!! I will never forget my experience there, especially the activities we had to do..... some that I will share made me laugh and made me ever so slightly concerned....

Now, I'm sure they're doing everything to keep the camp fun and safe so that no one gets hurt, but some of the rules and activities made me question it.

On Monday, our first day, they gave us a list of the activities we were assigned. Our activity that Monday was to go paint balling. I have never in my life gone paint balling but decided to try it. When we made the long trek to the paint ball station I realized I was wearing shorts and not pants. I had seen people who had huge welts that turned into bruises that they wore proudly and called them 'battle wounds' but cried every time you touched them. I wasn't about to get huge discolored welts covering my legs. But then I decided I wasn't about to let scars stop me.

I began to listen to the man running the station who explained the rules to us before we started. He began to tell us how we should NEVER take our masks off. He said that if you took it off and got shot in the head that because the paint ball came out with such force and speed, that it could knock your eyes out of the socket. He said they would have to take you to the hospital and you will either live with holes for eyes or glass eyes. All the time he said that he kept an extremely serious face and I had no idea of knowing weather he was kidding or not. It didn't matter, I would just never under ANY circumstances, take the mask off.

He went on to say that we would be against the boys, who showed no mercy in this "game of fun", he explained. He said if you wanted to leave at any time, just raise your gun over your head and yell "surrender, I surrender" over and over until you're at your base. He forewarned us that sometimes the boys shoot us anyway, and that you can only shoot from at least 20 feet away.

I decided that I would pass the first round to see how some of my friends liked it. It wasn't long before my friend came back out with a welt on her shoulder. She had used all her ammo and had surrendered. She stood up from the rock she had been hiding behind and put her gun up above her head, yelled surrender, and turned around. The boy 6 feet away stood up and took the chance to shoot her. She came back and sat next to me with a bright red, puffy welt and an hour later it was black and blue and gross. All the wounds were grossing me out so I walked down the hill with a friend and got a Frappachino. The harmless "game of fun" seemed more like a "game of life or death" to me.

On Tuesday we had something called the Leap Of Faith. You were put in a harness and had to climb up a 30 foot high pole and jump and try to grab a bar dangling from a wire above your head. This seemed pretty harmless and the thing that made me uncertain was how we were held up. On the other end of the rope that was holding you, as you climbed up and fell down, was a man. He was a skinny, small (like a 5 feet tall) man who was holding on to it and gently lowering you down. All I could think about is him loosing his footing or dropping the rope and the person tied to the other end, crashing to the ground. Oh, yah, the pole was probably 6 inches wide and would literally shake when you stood on top of it.  So along with the unstable pole, my life depended on a scrawny man at the other end.  I decided not to take the chance.

On Wednesday, it was zip line. This, I knew, was the only exception to not safe. It may look scary, but I REALLY wanted to go on this and was so excited. It was the one thing I wanted to do out of all the choices. I wanted to go last year but the line was broken. The only thing I didn't know was that we had to rock climb up the side to get up to the platform of the zip line. "Anything but rock climbing, I'd even go on a ladder," I remember telling myself. But I decided I would do it. The right side looked easy enough. There were two rows of rock climbing walls. On the right they were closer together, and had grooves in them for your hand and feet to hold on to. On the left they were spread farther apart and the rocks were round and almost flat up against the wall. They gave your fingers and feet absolutely NO hold on the wall. And of course, with my luck, when I reached first in line, I had to go on the left side. The lady running it came over to me and said I was up on the left side. I explained politely that I really wanted the right side. She look my arm and practically drug me over to the left rock wall. She hooked me up and said, "they are the same kid," and she left me there to struggle to the top. I was doing okay until I was practically 4 feet from the top when there was like 2 feet from the rock I held on to desperately and the next one. My toes were pressed in between the centimeter from the rock and the wall, and I was literally digging my fingernails into the rock as I tried desperately to stay on.

I then used my legs and stretched as far as I could to the rock above me and barley had my fingertips on. So I'm up like 45 feet in the air with my arms way above me and my feet way below me when my feet slip off. I felt like screaming but instead bit my lip. Sure, I could drop and the cord that was tied to me would lower me down, or I could try to regain my hold. I dug my fingernails into the hard rubber rocks and tried to put my feet on the rocks they slipped from. All I wanted to do was get up there and do the zip line. I became upset at the fact that we had to rock climb while the people who worked up on the platform took stairs up. I was dangling 45 feet up in the air by my fingernails. My fingers were white and I felt defeated. I refused to let go because I knew they only let us get one try because of the number of people who wanted to do it. I was trying desperately, frantically, trying to get a hold on the round rocks as I watch the person on the right side breeze up over the platform and I wanted to scream for help before I fell, and tell the lady who claimed it was "easy" to let me take the stairs. But just then I slipped and for 10 feet I fell fast. I screamed and my stomach seemed in my throat. Then the cord holding me stopped and slowly lowered me down to earth. I felt discouraged and defeated as I took off my harness and hung it up. I felt hot tears brim my eyes but I took a deep breath and blinked repetitively, willing myself not to cry. I tried to tell myself there would be other times I could go and that certainly, I would get another chance to zip line sometime in my future.

Church camp, overall, was a great experience and I was so happy I went again this year. I will allways remember it and cherish the memories. I am so grateful I was able to go and have a fun time!!

Audra

I have come to learn that my family is a disgrace to the meaning of summer break.

When I think of summer vacation, one thing immediately comes to mind. SLEEP! I love my sleep. One of my favorite things to do is to hit the pillow at the end of a long day.

My family is always telling me how grouchy I am in the morning, but they don't understand. I NEED my sleep! If I don't, I have been known to say stuff I don't mean, and don't remember saying when I wake up. I have also been known to hurt people in my sleep.

Just the other day my brother came in my room and couldn't wake me up. He decided to tickle me behind my knee, a place that makes me freak out, and he knew it! He went along with his plan and I kicked him. Hard.I don't remember doing this, but lets just say I don't think he's going to try that one anytime soon.

My mother had to get me up one time for an early commitment that day. She started at 6. I wouldn't wake up. Then again at 6:10 without success. Finally at 6:20 she turned on my light and opened my shutters. Through squinted eyes I told her to turn my light back off and that I was going to go back to bed and not getting up. Ever. She tried again 5 minutes later after I dozed off and in my sleep I took my pillow and threw it at her. That made her mad, but I don't ever remember doing it.

Well, for the next half hour the whole family came in and made some sort of attempt to get me up until one of them said I only had 15 minutes to get up, get dressed, do my hair and everything else before we left for the dentist. I was up in the blink of an eye.

My record of sleeping in is noon, and I went to bed at my bedtime which was 8:00! I felt so good to finally sleep in for over 12 hours! This summer my goal was to beat my record, more than once. So far, thats not happening. I wake up at 5:00 A.M. this morning to my brother Buck, who is always up early..... painfully early, watching t.v, the sound of cartoons blasting from the family room woke me up. I groaned, rolled over and put a pillow over my head and dozed off again. At 5:30 I woke up to Buck, playing the Wii and Colton playing on his PS2 and screaming and cheering as he hit a home run. And 6:00 A.M. to Buck and Colton playing the accordian and the piano. By this time I get out of bed, still half asleep, and shut my door, then crawled back in bed. By 8 Sierra's in my room shaking me asking me where something is. I pull the blankets over my head and pretend to be asleep until she finally leaves. At 9 I'm woken up by Colton telling me how now no will play him on his PS2 baseball and he needs me. I tell him to leave me alone and shut my door on his way out. By that time I'm DONE! I could not go back to sleep no matter how hard I tried, so I just get up.

That happened just this morning and when I walked into the living room where my mother was blogging (she is an early riser and she just gets up and hits the computer), and she looked at me and said, "Well you're up relatively early this morning."  I huffed and slumped on the couch. All I could think is, "She has NO idea. It's physically impossible to sleep in while living with this family!" I think she read my mind because she said, "I bet you wish you were an only child!" I forgot how tired I was and laughed. They have NO idea. = )