A story...

I do love this story.  I read it again today and felt I simply had to share it.  Funny, I have never cried in a movie in my life (though while pregnant I admit I was a mess over a sears commercial) but books?  Stories?  They can stir me in a heartbeat.  I think I am just so aware that the movie is being portrayed by actors.  That what is happening is not real, and because it is not real I see the attempt to stir me emotionally as manipulation.  I do not like being manipulated, therefore my scarcely contained rebellious spirit refuses to cry or show emotion in any way.  I have only so much emotional energy to give, I will not spend it on something that has no real purpose.  But books? Stories?  I don't feel manipulated - you see, those characters are far more real to me then any actor on a screen will ever be.

Keep reading below, I posted a story from my childhood.  Oscar Wilde is perhaps best known for being controversial in character (didn't he go to prison for indecent acts with another man?  I can't remember exactly and I am to lazy to look it up at the moment) but I can't read this story and not cry.  I can't.  There is such beauty, beyond anything that a simple man could produce.  This story had to have been divinely inspired.  And look at the man he used!  I guess it just goes to show, no matter who you are, God can use you.  He is still using Mr. Wilde in my life to bring joy, hope and faith. 

I have decided I shall occasionally post short stories that have meaning to me.  Either for life or for that particular day...some days deserve a story to punctuate them properly!  Stories make up so much of all that is around us.  Everyone has one, or twelve...  I love hearing people's stories, they always make the person more real.  You know, some people are just not as real as others, their colors are not as bright, their lines not as distinct.   Some days I feel fuzzy about the edges, and some I feel very pointed and sharp.  I suppose most other people have fuzzy and sharp days as well...but I always feel that the better I get to know someone, the sharper they become.  I guess you have to get to know what is normal for someone.  And that way, when things are brighter or fuzzier it gives you an idea of where they are currently in life.  When a neon friend walks in the door and his/her vibrant hues are reduced to mauve or dusty pink then you know something is wrong. 

(Not that there is anything wrong with dusty pink, which is why you need to know what is normal.  I have had dear friends that are naturally a very lovely shade of dusty pink - so just the same with them if they walk in the door looking a bit over-bright you can be sure something is amiss.) 

I believe today I am a rather burnt orange color.  Not sure why, that is just how I am feeling today.  Feelings make way more sense to me when they are placed within a color category.  Some days I am a wispy blue or a deep chocolate brown.  Others I feel decisively pink, or perhaps a pale pale green.  Today I am burnt orange. Interestingly, I rarely wear the color I am feeling.  I believe it is too obvious, and although I am aware that the average person does not see color in quite the same way I do...I still feel the need to be more discreet. 

I have often said that I believe Easter should be a bigger deal then it is.  After all, this is when we celebrate Jesus coming back, saving us.  Sure, Christmas is wonderful...had he not been born the whole dieing thing might have been a tad more complex...but in my head Easter should be at least as big a deal, if not bigger...and it isn't, and that bothers me.  The entire month of December is devoted to Christmas, (again, not bashing Christmas, just using it for comparison) there are countless songs written, houses are lit up, parties are thrown, etc. etc.   But what does Easter get?  A few isles of candy at the store, bunnies, eggs and one day where we nod our heads and listen to a sermon telling a story of a man who loved us so much he gave everything.  He suffered beyond what most of us could imagine, he died so we could live, gave more then I can fathom...and the easter bunny gets the credit for the baskets!     Then he rose from the dead, proving once and for all that He Is God.  And sure, we get dressed up.  We spend a day with family and eat good food...but it never feels like it is big enough.  So starting now I pledge to be aware, to make a big deal.  I am reading stories of Easter to my children.  We will talk about it, do crafts, bake cookies and remember.  I am not asking for more commercialism - but I want my kids to know just how huge this day really is, the magnitude of what it represents. 

And this afternoon, we will start with this: