The Social Porcupine

Cockroaches and Math It was early morning, but I felt today was perfect. My friend, Rose, was in the kitchen, her music playing gently as she started breakfast. I skipped into the kitchen, “The animals - can you help me find them?” Rose motioned toward the back porch, “I just let them out.” I sang loudly with Rose’s music (a song I’d never heard before) as I rushed to the pantry. I asked Rose, “Would you like me to cut sourdough?” She nodded, smiling. I knew she hated cutting through the hard crust. I cut the bread, still singing. I dropped several pieces into the toaster. “I have this great idea for a short story! About a good cockroach. It’s sad how people hate them, so I want to portray how they are mistreated.” Rose’s eyebrows arched sharply. The cat and dog scratched at the door. I threw the knife into the sink, ran to the door, and let the animals in, pouring food into their dishes. I came back into the kitchen, stuffed food into my mouth, and sang. “My, you

This post shall be a bit different. Parts of it will look almost blasphemous, to be honest. But If you get to the end I hope you will see that I'm not being so. I honestly hope I'm sharing truths I'm learning. Awhile back on Facebook an uncle of mine shared a post. I'm not sure what point he was trying to make. Or if he was even trying to make any point. I replied, being both silly and serious. And then another uncle replied . . . being both silly and serious. I'm thinking he kinda meant his last comment as an insult? Here's the conversation: A friend just let me know that these words my uncle posted aren't actually his words, but in fact a quote from Mark Twain. FB can be very misleading at times ;)  Anyways, this got me to thinking. About when I was little. And about now. Why I used to pray for Satan. And why I don't anymore. And, yes, I used to pray for Satan. I used to pray that all my family and friends would love Yahweh mo

Young And Stuck He was too young to be running from the law. Mistakes. They shouldn't affect him yet... he was just a kid. A kid holding a bank bag, running from raging sirens. “It was a mistake,” tears squeezed from his eyes as he clutched the bank bag, wishing he could throw it far away. He was stuck. He didn’t know what to do, what he needed. A place to hide. That’s all he needed before his legs turned him in. A hospital. He ran inside. The halls were empty, full of doors. Which one would hide him? Would any? He didn’t know, so he chose one. A whimper startled him; the boy screamed a single curse word. “A baby,” he tried to laugh, but his nerves were too tight. He neared to the crib. “All alone?” he whispered. “I wish for your peaceful solitude. I had a baby brother. Are you a baby boy? Or a girl? I feel like I’m talking to the air.” Footsteps exploded in the hall. The boy fell to the floor, hiding behind the crib. The door opened, a painful jolt erupted insi

I turned twenty-two yesterday. I feel as if I've dropped twenty years these last couple months, if you are wondering if I feel any older. I believe I shall be Forever Young .  I have three words I love to over use in my writing. Mostly because I feel they describe my hopes and desires to a t . But. . . these words keep growing for me, in me. Encourage, Edify, Entertain I've changed a lot since . . . Forever ? Or have I changed . . . is it simply developing in the directions I've chosen despite what life has thrown at me? I have moved a lot. I have hated a lot (not saying this is good) . I have laughed a lot (this is mostly good . . . maybe not the times I laughed because of mean pranks I committed or to hide away the pain I truly felt ;b) . I have had a lot of friends ( yay!).  And I have lost a ton of friends ( not so yay) . I have said I'd never love. And then I loved way too much . . . only to have my heart broken. But, man, did I learn a lot thr

New Hair I know we should go, my daughter and I. But I can’t manage to make myself move. The scissors in my hand clang to the floor. What have I done? They’re expecting us, my family. But wait until they see me. Linnie knocks on my bedroom door, but she doesn’t wait for me to answer. She rushes in. “Mom, we’re late-“ her words change. “Your hair.” I laugh. “Yes, Linnie. My hair.” “It’s on the floor.” her words shatter me. I forget about being strong and not scaring her. I start sobbing, pulling at the hair that remains on my head. For so long I loved my hair... it was my pride. I kept it long, healthy, beautiful. Now it falls through my clothes, itching my skin. It clings to the carpet floor. It’s all gone. Linnie doesn’t freak. She’s too mature for a child. She gives me a quick hug. “We need to go.” Somehow she drags me to the car. She fastens my seatbelt. “It’s OK, Mom. Just drive. I’ll tell you when to turn.” I don’t pay attention to the speedometer or

Following God is simple, and it's complex. It's easy. It's hard. It's all about relationship. But we'd be lying if we said God doesn't have rules, guidelines, expectations. What does this relationship look like, this business of following Yahweh and Yeshua, our God and our Messiah? Some say it's a liberal love. It is. Some think God's way is legalistic. If you term legalism a perfect standard that can't be changed , then that would be true. If you term legalism as following standards rather than God then you would be wrong. Rules aren't bad. Serving rules is bad. Following God means following Him, including His ways ( rules ). But to only follow His rules is so empty. Who follows rules without a master? That would be like following a master without rules. Both methods alone are pointless and inefficient. Balance . It's a balanced paradox. Not too liberal. Not too legalistic. Just perfect... judging by love, free to serve,

Fred-O is Frightened “They buried him in autumn Yet couldn't hide their guilt. Fred-O spoke what was so Who lives half as good?” Fred-O held onto his seat as Noah guided the horse and small wagon (they had stopped using the sleigh weeks ago to go to school) over the rough ground. Fred-O sang heartily at the top of his lungs, his beloved song, singing the same words over and over. Ann seemed about ready to jump out of the wagon. Fred-O wondered if it was more because she was irritated with the song, or if she were overjoyed that it was spring. The bumps of the wagon weren't suiting her excitement too well – but they added a nice texture to Fred-O's song. Fred-O laughed – Ann was funny. Suddenly she did jump out, and started running to the cabin. Lucy was outside taking dry clothes from off the line. “It's spring!” Ann shouted. The words sounded good to Fred-O's ears for many reasons. School would be out soon. And the ground was al

Love Warms  The child had discovered many things in her few short years. Tonight she thought of them as she spent her last night wrapped by cold. Confidence is choosing to not care. Not caring hardened one, made them as stone. Stones crumble, with none to keep them from washing away in the storm. There was no way to shelter oneself from the onslaught of betrayal and treachery one faced from every person that pretended to be friend. Yet she also knew she could not live much longer. Not without someone to trust, to help her. To show her love’s warmth. Love must be warm. She shivered. “I will if you give me a chance. I love you already.” The voice was distant, as if a memory. But she knew the sound. She looked about her, hoping to see a face. There were many faces passing by, but none had eyes to see her. Memories flashed before her eyes. A black book. A man that read words from that book, who spoke in the big, beautiful, warm church. That man did not understand th

Back in this post I shared with you all how I bought my first AG doll through Craigslist, and how I'd refused to buy from them ever since I was nine years old because I'd heard they supported abortion. Well, my cousin asked me how I knew that they supported abortion, or if it was just a rumor. Her mom, my aunt, didn't remember telling me. And no amount of words could prod their memories or change mine... haha. We had a fun family argument about it, which resulted with me calling the company. And so the following fun resulted: Call #1 me: Hello, I have an unusual question, but do you all support abortion? lady:  *sounding defensive* I can't answer that. me:  Is there someone that can? lady: *gives me another number to call* Call #2 me: Hello, I was wondering if you could answer a question about American Girl. Do you all support abortion? Guy: Uhh... I'm not going to answer that. Me: I was told if I called here I could get an answer. Guy: *pau