tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-155311962011-04-21T13:43:30.583-04:00[ig néss’nt] adj producing sparks when struck: giving off sparks when struck, as a flint does <br> a soul-sparks blogElizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12085739436874554686noreply@blogger.comBlogger1071100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15531196.post-73946422756881090022008-08-10T21:54:00.004-04:002008-08-10T22:02:57.932-04:00

So, while using StumbleUpon, I found a delightfully random cartoon.Rock on, winged insects of the world. Rock on.

Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12085739436874554686noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15531196.post-34041089963534241982008-07-31T21:12:00.002-04:002008-08-01T10:46:58.021-04:00

A faded memory is a curious thing--a thing so washed and tattered, covered with collected dust and fur, or pressed between sections of old newspaper. But sometimes, when your mind sweeps the corner between latin class and childhood vacations, the old dust flies up and gets in your eyes. Sometimes you finger the yellowed text of a letter, misplaced in Arts and Culture, Section B. It's the thinnest

Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12085739436874554686noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15531196.post-40376540824283762292008-07-15T17:29:00.003-04:002008-07-23T16:52:55.513-04:00

Without gloves I grab the icy snow, grip it, and bring it to my face,to feel the cold, the rush of nerves and senses, to know my skin is alive,while this ungloved hand frames your face with its index finger, and watches your face contort as your heart pumps feeling into your brain. And such feeling, now mine, cools and awaits the silence of icy rain. I don't want it to be beautiful. I want it to

Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12085739436874554686noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15531196.post-41123752628852845832008-06-21T13:12:00.001-04:002008-06-21T13:18:04.507-04:00

During the summer months, one would think academia would be far from the mind. However, as of late (and since I have little to do), I've reviewed and processed several academic subjects often discussed in my house--politics, culture, literature, visual art, etcetera. Unfortunately, I cannot process them as well because my brain left quite a time ago, leaving plenty of space for dull

Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12085739436874554686noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15531196.post-66197901877639533872008-06-06T19:01:00.002-04:002008-12-09T05:49:23.261-03:00

These are photographs, new and old, full of memories and impressions.//in this conglomerate:: katherine mcmullen, daniel stephens, scott cook, christina land, jamie shaw, jordan lingerfelt, courtney creekmore, chaz kirby, brandon oberle, brandon sims, josh grimm, howard wellons, hudson smith, emily drummond, justin long, mom, andy croston, michael sewall//

Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12085739436874554686noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15531196.post-74956563133362666222008-05-22T19:26:00.000-04:002008-05-22T19:26:42.747-04:00

This Monday I finally cleaned and reorganized my room--joy of joys! I've finally resolved my college and Easley lives into one space, which is quite the accomplishment.Rummaging through my things I found so many items I had long forgotten. Letters, crafts, books, even stories I had written so long ago (I think I just wrote stories so I could use the cool names I had randomly created or found for

Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12085739436874554686noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15531196.post-14696784033193698562008-05-18T20:12:00.003-04:002008-12-09T05:49:23.402-03:00

I was looking at Erskine spring pictures today....photograph by Davey Morgan*sniff* I miss Erskine! and only ONE measly day after leaving!//[from right] Christina Land, Grace Cannon, Katherine McMullen, Me//

Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12085739436874554686noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15531196.post-54899104363808812702008-05-08T21:53:00.002-04:002008-05-08T21:58:57.439-04:00

I'll just share some brilliance with you, if I may:______________________________________________Sailing to ByzantiumWB YeatsI That is no country for old men. The youngIn one another's arms, birds in the trees--- Those dying generations --- at their song,The salmon-falls, the mackerel-crowded seas,Fish, flesh, or fowl, commend all summer longWhatever is begotten, born, and dies.Caught in that

Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12085739436874554686noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15531196.post-68358345590120944082008-04-29T20:27:00.000-04:002008-04-29T19:27:52.387-04:00

Every once in a while, when inspiration leaves me and life's situations build up, I write the rarely-seen "bit update". So, my loyal readers, here's my life right now...There are only 2 and 1/2 weeks left of school, and therefore, of my freshman year of college. When I realized this, Time asked "Where did I go?"--to which I replied, "...I have no idea." Yes, Time did slip away from me my first

Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12085739436874554686noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15531196.post-54282518127978711652008-04-17T12:36:00.001-04:002008-04-17T11:37:50.979-04:00

I think of swansGliding here, there,Bobbing their slender heads, their eyes crinkling in happiness(I never saw a swan that did not smile),And I think of you (whoever you are), sitting here with me,Listening to Vaughan Williams, thinking of swans.

Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12085739436874554686noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15531196.post-21696274436031412502008-04-10T11:27:00.000-04:002008-04-10T10:27:54.752-04:00

You've inspired learned and humble menWho spew and utter their gratitude With rhythmic syllables and ancient words we sigh at yet can never mimic.But we do try, adopting another’s art for the same subject,You must be proud, by now, of your beauty,Your power, your constancy;But you continue with no more flourish than before.You continue, merely. A beautiful continuity That sees everything in God’s

Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12085739436874554686noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15531196.post-78846981165999030522008-04-04T01:51:00.000-04:002008-04-04T12:52:42.506-04:00

Neil Postman, author of the famous Amusing Ourselves to Death, spoke at the German Informatics Society on October 11, 1990 about the true impact of technology on our culture in his speech Informing Ourselves to Death. This was even before the full extent of information overload we have 18 years later. Postman questions whether an immense gain in information redeems our lack of purpose and

Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12085739436874554686noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15531196.post-13533770777727284102008-03-31T11:39:00.000-04:002008-03-31T10:39:05.270-04:00

"You open your hand;You satisfy the desire of every living thing."-Psalm 145.16-I often seek earthly things to fulfill me, even when I do not realize it. I'm sure this happens often--we pledge our loyalty to the Most High God, yet we fret and worry over rejection, whether in love, friendship, schooling, career. We build high dreams that we've envisioned since childhood, patiently nurturing and

Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12085739436874554686noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15531196.post-36064598322802913762008-03-25T20:38:00.000-04:002008-03-25T19:38:28.892-04:00

I picked up a book entitled Doing Our Own Thing: The Degradation of Language and Music and Why We Should, Like, Care over a year ago; the pithy, biting title attracted me, and plus, the subject fascinates me. Why do we ignore the literary and music greats of long ago? Since when did we trade complexity and searching truths and honest observation for lethargic description and base (and cliché)

Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12085739436874554686noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15531196.post-70964260817185618522008-03-23T21:07:00.001-04:002008-03-23T20:08:08.261-04:00

I learned several things today:-chocolate reigns as the best substance concocted-R.E.M. writes some very catchy tunes indeed-Xst's resurrection occurs continually in the transformation of man from death to life; transforming the wretched to righteousness illustrates that Xst lives.On another note...There are some days that I feel so very wise--as if I have transcended the barriers of my youth and

Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12085739436874554686noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15531196.post-70190266688571850752008-03-19T19:39:00.009-04:002008-03-23T10:50:09.448-04:00

These poems reflect my own imminent thoughts and sensations with rain gentle or raging--my weather-mind.__________________________________________________________Ode to the West WindPercy Bysshe ShelleyIV If I were a dead leaf thou mightest bear;If I were a swift cloud to fly with thee;A wave to pant beneath thy power, and shareThe impulse of thy strength, only less freeThan thou, O

Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12085739436874554686noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15531196.post-54877366366086009962008-03-16T17:34:00.002-04:002008-03-19T09:22:19.799-04:00

"The triumph of the saints is the peace of God in uncertainty."I wrote this during church service, since our sermon this morning presented the LORD's faithfulness to love His children in all times--good and bad. However, the pastor stressed the hardship more than the times of ease and blessing, for obvious reasons. It's just...hard, trusting God during struggle. I've found through experience that

Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12085739436874554686noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15531196.post-5593356318158030972008-03-12T17:34:00.004-04:002008-03-19T19:06:42.047-04:00

I've often wondered at my apparent inconsistencies. Part of me stresses the rational, the concise, the realistic; the other longs for the elegant, the beautiful, the ideal. I conclude that I am two persons--in literary terms, since I am most familiar with those. The Modernist and the Romantic within me struggle for dominance, but I fight for both. Perhaps my need for intellectual clarity and

Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12085739436874554686noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15531196.post-83107987555267282182008-03-10T13:32:00.004-04:002008-03-10T16:29:22.178-04:00

Ah, yes--the intermittent general life update. Thought I would inform my faithful readers of my life's goings-on.Okay--just got a random cold. Bad timing--NATS this Friday. I can still sing with a cold though; hopefully this will not transform into something else. I pray not.School is great now--certainly compared to my first semester of college, which was the closest to...a very hot, fiery place

Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12085739436874554686noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15531196.post-40908137211924889812008-02-29T01:44:00.000-03:002008-02-29T01:45:14.929-03:00

Foraging for knowledge,you travel complex routes for enigmatic answers.What a bother, really,when you've nothing to lose and you follow everything and anything.but, what joy:you find Knowledge--and your minds clashandout of the surface of the watermarvelous truths appear.

Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12085739436874554686noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15531196.post-47045109680938662062008-02-23T13:51:00.001-03:002008-03-19T19:06:57.477-04:00

I'm in one of those strange moods where I want to cry at something profound. I want beauty, grace, joy to surround me always. I long for some unexplainable fulfillment to wipe away my life's blemishes. Remove the wrinkles and tears and pains. Something...Something....and I'm on the verge of it. I think I see it--that person or that grade, that romanticized life of the struggling poet attempting

Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12085739436874554686noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15531196.post-77761155450888605292008-02-20T18:20:00.001-03:002008-02-20T18:23:27.946-03:00

Life confuses me. Daily. It strikes at me its boredom, wondering what I'll do with the next twist or turn. It confounds me and leaves me stuck in the swamp of its situations.My friends, if you do care for me, I implore your patience during this time. And please, don't contribute to it. I am not ready for any new step in my life. I still hurt; I have not healed. Value friendship, because it is all

Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12085739436874554686noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15531196.post-64009527529822590682008-02-14T15:57:00.002-03:002008-03-19T19:07:20.135-04:00

//Okay. So, to balance out the sad poem thing, I'll give ya'll a sweet, endearing sonnet. I wrote it meself....heh heh heh.//____________________________________________________________________Sonnet Two. Sonnet 71 If death shall take me as an ancient maid Or end my course at the height of my sun Or wrap his silent cloak ‘round where I laid Or snatch me up amidst a course undone, I pray my

Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12085739436874554686noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15531196.post-21013660040402727812008-02-14T02:37:00.002-03:002008-03-19T19:07:35.930-04:00

//This post reflects on hypothetical love-loss, and nothing more, although I have experienced something akin to this before. I look not for pity or proclaim some sort of undying hurt; I attempted to place myself in another's state of mind, as poets-in-training must do to accurately assess the thoughts of mankind and convey truth in every word.//____________________________________________________

Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12085739436874554686noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15531196.post-59219806810563506822008-02-11T00:17:00.000-03:002008-02-11T09:50:19.718-03:00

So...I currently wait on our mandatory dorm meeting and the following fire drill. I now struggle with ways to amuse myself. Consequently, I write this post.Oh, and by the way, John Locke is a nincompoop. He is the reason that I have a short test in World Civ tomorrow. It wouldn't be so bad if he had learned not to repeat himself 50 times. Silly man. With his stupid tabula rasa. Gah. NO. Man is

Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12085739436874554686noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15531196.post-27499396447332586602008-02-02T13:19:00.000-03:002008-02-06T11:35:52.711-03:00

I wish I understood the immensity of space--how small I am compared to the universe. I know it, in a cerebral sense, but often my mind does not acknowledge it. Like everything in this damned, fallen world, my mind reflects what's tainted within.I observed the stars last night on the way back from english country dancing (something I would highly recommend). It was late in the night (or early

Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12085739436874554686noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15531196.post-44253500937895569082007-12-22T14:32:00.000-03:002007-12-27T19:46:24.152-03:00

i'm not feeling very christmas-y this year. considering my present circumstances, i almost feel i have no right to.i wish i could express myself more poetically, more profoundly. in truth, my only expression is that i feel like crap. dung, vileness. poetic expression flees me when i'm depressed.without going into explicit detail, many circumstances which once were stable and trustworthy have

Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12085739436874554686noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15531196.post-12340875380103541992007-10-22T23:34:00.000-03:002007-10-22T23:36:55.367-03:00

i have often thought,"i'd rather be here than there".this seems a contradiction:my mind still wishes while its wish is fulfilled.what wants in my mind's corner are left unsought?whyis content a mystery to my heart?it seemsthat my 'here' has not the constancy of peace.it seemsthat my 'here' is me.

Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12085739436874554686noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15531196.post-25014976281940527272007-09-05T20:57:00.000-04:002007-09-05T20:00:44.537-04:00

So long, and softly, the heart in me replies to undaunted nature, and love, and other things that make me weep.In this thought I become the mediator between peace and uncertainty, as my sacred self makes fight with my ills of human nature.I strain to resist perplexion, and deny the evident voice of the organic; the quiver of life within the branch, the blossom, this laugh, that child,

Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12085739436874554686noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15531196.post-24556420673144429472007-08-25T18:06:00.000-04:002007-09-27T10:36:41.391-04:00

Yes, yes. Now is time for those boring, every-once-in-a-while posts updating my faithful readers on how my life's been so far...Okay, biggy--GOING TO COLLEGE. Been waiting for this day since 2nd Grade. I'm excited, since it seems that many of the Erskine students are as big of geeks as me. Comradery is great. I'm going to major in English, minor in Music (my two great loves). Honestly, I don't

Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12085739436874554686noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15531196.post-30449226363187198352007-07-25T16:52:00.000-04:002007-07-25T17:37:00.557-04:00

In the valley, where all sentiment has died,There is a vision that stills the heart and mind.It is with trembling hands that I do lift the veilOf rememb'rance that speaks its judgments well.Hungry stomachs take hold of moral mindsWhen flesh is threatened with extinction of its time.While wounded hearts lay barren, hardly to upholdTheir stricken heart's still beating within their fleshly mold.and

Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12085739436874554686noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15531196.post-8960924146925189312007-07-07T13:40:00.000-04:002007-07-07T18:33:25.474-04:00

A secret disturbance--in the corner of my brain--sends sparks flying .but still, i cannot see them;they are too hidden, those brilliant streaks of light.they might fry my cornea, if i look at them.perhaps little glimpses might do the trick;intermittent glances from the corner of my eyesent to scout out the problem:why i, so knowledgeable, so wise, cannot see a violent interference to good

Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12085739436874554686noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15531196.post-76345882363663198232007-06-19T19:35:00.000-04:002007-06-19T18:35:31.246-04:00

Upon this broken well I have retrieveda certain conscious that I cannot recall.When I did receive it, it was as epiphany--my eyes were bright with the realization of living--but it soon left me, and my mind was weakened.What I had found upon this broken wellstole my soul,and I cannot remember which direction it was taken--only that it was carried far away from me.

Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12085739436874554686noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15531196.post-53533344490272541132007-06-16T18:54:00.000-04:002007-06-16T17:54:43.669-04:00

it's odd to be suspicious of happiness.happiness is beautiful--it has lifted me from seemingly bottomless places; and those "conduits" of this happiness are such incredible blessings. however, having once believed to have so called "happiness" and realizing that it was...quite temporary and hollow, i begin to feel that happiness just isn't my cup o' tea. in other words, my mind goes into

Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12085739436874554686noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15531196.post-16198899117309536852007-06-02T12:09:00.000-04:002007-06-02T11:11:06.474-04:00

sorry for my long hiatus from the blogosphere. i can't really think right now, actually. don't know why, really--have had plenty to think about. i suppose all the senior recital-spring recital-OTHER senior recital-exam-graduation ceremony has really...burned me out. i've been wanting to write for some time, but haven't had anything to say. it's funny how that happens.well, i have officially

Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12085739436874554686noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15531196.post-56595673892105465782007-04-10T18:03:00.000-04:002007-04-10T17:05:07.305-04:00

i think i have surrealist tendencies in my poetry.i was just reviewing over different poetry schools/movements (at poets.org--it's grand, i must say), and came across it--a french gentleman in particular (c bauldelaire). it seemed to go along the line that some of my poetry (public and private) that starts with a tangible setting but ends up dwelling on thoughts that fit best only in the mind,

Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12085739436874554686noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15531196.post-29737890826599547972007-03-23T18:00:00.000-04:002007-03-23T17:01:05.842-04:00

Silence, silence, Jerusalem, if you mean it— And shout, shout, if your heart says the same; Speak when words must be spoken, and weep if enabled: But do not flaunt emotions like a banner of piety—do not spread meanings so temporary as cuts and bruises that impact not our inner man. Rather, like a disease may truth permeate our minds—bothering us; prodding, ripping at our flesh To reveal our

Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12085739436874554686noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15531196.post-53093404345384718612007-03-10T20:32:00.000-03:002007-03-10T20:35:09.666-03:00

There is a certain beauty in things that die--the peaceful things, that know where their destiny leads.They hold within a tower of understanding that things in life seem to discount.At times, i wish i could extract the wisdom from old creatures with lives that have been full with love and broken with betrayal--I long to rip out the sapience lodged in their hearts;and I, so young, plead for

Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12085739436874554686noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15531196.post-68125178624275006822007-03-06T19:49:00.000-03:002007-03-07T01:49:08.639-03:00

i am a photographer (but not a professional by any means), and photography is one of my favorite past times. i took this picture during the first month of owning my new camera, meaning to capture my whole face--however, it seems that fate had different plans.i reviewed the picture on my camera screen, and was at first frustrated to see that my whole face wasn't in the shot. i took a second look

Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12085739436874554686noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15531196.post-36096975799396322142007-03-02T00:12:00.000-03:002007-04-10T17:17:07.736-04:00

the following selection is from the poem "Having it Out with Melancholy" by Jane Kenyon. The main stigma of the poem is her constant, lifelong events of melancholy thought--some of it terrible, some of it filled with humorous irony. Kenyon was a poet who struggled mightily with depression, so much so in fact that it is a common occurance in her work. i happened to come across it once, and was

Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12085739436874554686noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15531196.post-45028564966069912752007-02-23T19:55:00.000-03:002007-04-10T17:14:48.108-04:00

Time does not wait for us, I think--It continues and never stops.And when we cry out for another chance--another moment, another place--We cry in vain.Our dreams are bound to it;Our words are spoken into it, and can never be retrieved.Our breath relies upon its constant force."Entrapment," some call it, and so it may be--But our lives thrive in its past, andOur memories make us its equal.

Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12085739436874554686noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15531196.post-36988396714872495132007-02-17T19:25:00.001-03:002007-04-10T17:15:12.062-04:00

Sometimes, I feel as if I am about to explode;That my weary spirit is bound to split intoA million tiny universes each shouting its personal agenda:This one screams that I ought to ruin my adversaries, butThat one quietly remarks that I should get some sleep;The one to the right tells me I should search for inner peace within the heavens,While that one (front row, to the left) says I need to

Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12085739436874554686noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15531196.post-5006770005456229752007-02-17T01:13:00.001-03:002007-02-17T01:13:47.831-03:00

i thank you, God, that i can bless others around me even when in my own sorrow.your workings are mysterious, and they offer beautiful, beautiful hope.

Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12085739436874554686noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15531196.post-45913290444236566282007-02-14T22:30:00.001-03:002007-04-10T17:15:49.251-04:00

In what subjectdoes its nature fallthat springs forth in glorious unity upon the dying soul?In what mannercan it move the stone of cool enlightenmentor break strong men’s bones?How, oh how, can it bethat even I have once, long ago, fallen preyto that thing that spoke my withering hour?And oh! why is it sothat we still long for it after it has shredded our spiritsand manifested its terrors in our

Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12085739436874554686noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15531196.post-72172663893019179342007-02-13T01:24:00.001-03:002007-02-13T01:33:43.974-03:00

perhaps one of my greatest struggles in this life is the struggle of accepting Joy--a Joy that is so complete, so victorious, so...able to redeem me, that i can't quite take it seriously. sometimes i find it rather hard to believe that this Joy would have anything to do with me.if you only knew how wretched i am...how i tear and scratch at people's egos, making them feel like...well, crap. how i

Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12085739436874554686noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15531196.post-80238698691922469062007-02-10T19:51:00.001-03:002007-02-12T22:20:01.561-03:00

LORD, my God of infinite wisdom and mercy, you are beautiful. Your Words speak of knowledge and logic, and your Law inspires gladness where once it condemned!I am set free.I am no longer bound to the ways of sin--I am not in its miry pit. i no longer have an uncontrollable desire for such filth. You have shown me a grace that not all will be granted with. I pray, I long to be in your Light

Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12085739436874554686noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15531196.post-66479761315774360652007-02-06T21:23:00.000-03:002007-04-10T17:16:22.665-04:00

Oh!from what heart did this deed erupt?from what head did these thoughts eject?in what manner did evil corruptthe purity of a soul's reason?through what fortress did you cometo ruin the very name of mercy?about what corridor did you sneakto sudd'nly fling your heresy?for in this heart will i smite greedand in this head i'll guard the mindand in due manner i'll unripen this mortal seedand call it

Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12085739436874554686noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15531196.post-52822222851092405182007-02-05T23:43:00.001-03:002007-02-17T20:39:54.533-03:00

...were awesome. my drama team went to the SCSTA drama competition this past saturday, and we are, in short, winners. in fact, the head of the festival said that we were co-festival winners with another xian school (southside xian) because of our first-place score (50 out of 50). we won:first place-reader's theatresecond place-impromptu speaking (s cook)third place-literary interpretation (e

Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12085739436874554686noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15531196.post-35869449639209042642007-01-28T03:19:00.001-03:002007-04-10T17:14:18.777-04:00

"Treason!" cried the Silent Witness in the streets of every town and so her name was tarnished by the judging, idle mocker.She stood alone with forgone dismay alone among the crowd knowing that she saw her and knowing she was right.The Witness, mute, did rise again she knew her very well by the sound of her breath through her angry lungs and her quiet voice when she lied.They met each

Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12085739436874554686noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15531196.post-5018032443252219812007-01-16T23:07:00.001-03:002007-02-12T22:21:17.990-03:00

i don't really know if it can be put into words...the feeling that many people are disappointed in you. when at times you say something, and it doesn't fit the...the expectations of others. you offend them. you confuse them. you, in turn, feel guilty. it's a vicious cycle that apparently i'm participating in. now, some of you who may read this either...well, agree...or perhaps not. all that i ask

Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12085739436874554686noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15531196.post-25535147407751896252007-01-01T01:13:00.001-03:002007-02-12T22:21:35.471-03:00

i had my birthday 29 dec 06, my 17th. we had a celebration. we burned things.have pictures later.urgh.happy almost-new-year.

Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12085739436874554686noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15531196.post-12333566151500670162006-12-30T13:22:00.001-03:002007-02-12T22:21:53.373-03:00

i fixed it!aren't you proud of me??ciao.

Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12085739436874554686noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15531196.post-66862742241353173422006-12-26T20:48:00.001-03:002007-02-12T22:22:07.840-03:00

well, as you can see, i've moved my blog to the new google accounts (i've resisted this for a long time, but they said they'll eventually require everyone to move, so...). however, i have a strange new profile now...and it has my high school's SENIOR BETA CLUB blog info.i don't want that info there, but since i moved the beta club blog BEFORE my personal one, i kept the same new login address,

Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12085739436874554686noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15531196.post-1166215426074323022006-12-15T17:43:00.000-03:002007-02-12T22:22:26.214-03:00

God is beautiful.-in the way He speaks-in the way He is holy-because He is merciful, and have proven His mercy in us-because when he gives us burdens that tie us down, He in time does loose the ropes to set us free-in the way He has given so much to pathetic, wretched one as I--how He has given deliverance to one who should be dead!many people scorn God for His justice and might, saying it "cruel

Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12085739436874554686noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15531196.post-1164941327821036982006-11-30T23:46:00.000-03:002007-02-12T22:22:42.696-03:00

...is being held tomorrow at ERSKINE COLLEGE (a school prospect for me). it's an interview/dinner selection for the ebk finalists (i was chosen to be a semifinalist, in case you didn't know). the ebk scholarship is a full scholarship for EC, so it's a tad nerve-wracking to think about all the details--although, i can't really say that i'm nervous so much as...well...i don't know. i guess i'm

Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12085739436874554686noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15531196.post-1163180931128381132006-11-10T14:41:00.000-03:002007-02-12T22:22:55.469-03:00

...is an article i read this morning in TIME magazine. my grandma brought it with her (she's down to see the HAMLET production my school's putting on--last night was opening night and it was awesome...), since she knew mom was a biology teacher (i'm assuming she wanted mom to read it...)it's between a DAWKINS (evolutionary scientist, atheist) and COLLINS (creationist geneticist, christian). both,

Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12085739436874554686noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15531196.post-1162411842263175242006-11-01T17:03:00.000-03:002007-02-12T22:23:08.994-03:00

this is a day late, but (as hopefully one might know) yesterday was the 489th anniversary of the posting of the 95 theses, so a couple of buddies and myself decided to band together in a rousing chorus of reformed-protestantism by making a reformation cake and watching the luther (the joseph fiennes version--does there seem to be a theme for me this week?... i also took a quiz that determined

Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12085739436874554686noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15531196.post-1162164244367897612006-10-29T20:16:00.000-03:002007-02-12T22:23:25.751-03:00

...but is this not the coolest picture ever?i mean, i want a picture of myself like this...'cause it's just...so awesome...*awe*not to mention that joseph fiennes is pretty darn good lookin'.

Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12085739436874554686noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15531196.post-1160176528459060532006-10-06T19:09:00.000-04:002007-02-12T22:23:40.498-03:00

words that speak are rarely heeded.//and//words that are dead are never needed.//but all seem to be listened to are dead words.//dead words.

Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12085739436874554686noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15531196.post-1158727254548670592006-09-20T00:34:00.000-04:002007-02-12T22:24:02.478-03:00

i took a test thingy...interesting results.this is a word-summary thing of...erm, myself? trait snapshot: introverted, secretive, messy, depressed, does not like leadership, somewhat nihilistic, observer, does not make friends easily, unassertive, feels invisible, feels undesirable, hates large parties, does not like to stand out, leisurely, suspicious, submissive,

Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12085739436874554686noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15531196.post-1158016382618715852006-09-11T19:07:00.000-04:002007-02-12T22:24:18.123-03:00

Today's the fifth anniversary of September 11th attacks.It was a sad day, and families are still coping with lost loved ones.It was certainly a tragedy. And the world has lived through tragedy. Mankind is utterly depraved, and all tragedy is a result of that.But...still, we have hope. God has granted us enough Grace for that.

Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12085739436874554686noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15531196.post-1157946067813799312006-09-10T23:35:00.000-04:002007-02-12T22:24:32.542-03:00

just WHY did i post about my new shoes, huh? it's great...but only to me, really. i mean, does anyone else care what shoes i wear? i shouldn't bore you with such idiosyncrasies...sorry. just...rampaging for no apparent reason.erm, bye.

Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12085739436874554686noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15531196.post-1157739560813949622006-09-08T14:14:00.000-04:002007-02-12T22:24:46.633-03:00

my new shoes have arrived.and i'm uber excited. woot!*ahem* i'm sorry...that only comes out in appropriate circumstances. but, i think this qualifies...they're from land's end, and they're pretty. my other loafers with those tassel things are about to, well, die, since i wore them so much. i shall miss them...however, i thought i'd have a fresh new start with these. it's good to do that now and

Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12085739436874554686noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15531196.post-1157171366643244602006-09-02T00:23:00.000-04:002007-02-12T22:25:11.278-03:00

this post is late at night, and i'm tired. but i can't go to sleep, so hopefully this will help speed the process.in truth, 11.53 isn't that late for me. 12.20 is a little difficult, but i manage. 1.00 is pushing it, and eventually, i go to bed. even then it takes me a while to go to sleep.____________________________________________it's funny how some people can just walk up to someone and

Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12085739436874554686noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15531196.post-1154976484925932012006-08-07T14:43:00.000-04:002007-02-12T22:25:25.859-03:00

A Spirit SpedA spirit spedThrough spaces of night;And as he sped, he called,"God! God!"He went through valleysOf black death-slime,Ever calling,"God! God!"Their echoesFrom crevice and cavernMocked him:"God! God! God!"Fleetly into the plains of spaceHe went, ever calling,"God! God!"Eventually, then, he screamed,Mad in denial,"Ah, there is no God!"A swift hand,A sword from the sky,Smote him,And he

Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12085739436874554686noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15531196.post-1154648550076567382006-08-03T19:37:00.000-04:002007-02-12T22:25:41.039-03:00

It's been about a year since I first started this blog...but it seems not that long ago.Why does Time do that to you?It goes by so fast, and it doesn't really give you a chance to review a day, a month, a year--several years...I just wish I had more time...alone...to think on things. To not have so many things to do that don't really ultimately matter...Argh.

Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12085739436874554686noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15531196.post-1153238556111650132006-07-18T11:58:00.000-04:002007-02-12T22:25:56.330-03:00

She saw their faces:Not knowing what is realwhat is truthPursuing causes thatended in death.Eyes filled to the brim with sympathyfor dead beetles and acorns and suchand the occasional killer that 'never did no harm'Full of agonyfor their lost youthrather than their own lost souls.She saw this, and called it tragedy.

Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12085739436874554686noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15531196.post-1152665364781071432006-07-11T20:45:00.000-04:002007-02-12T22:26:21.563-03:00

My mom and I recently re-bought the missing Simon and Garfunkel's Greatest Hits cd, and I've been vegging to it for the past two days. I would like to call this group one of the musical geniuses of the 60s-70s.They. Are. Good.True, Paul Simon did write the majority of the songs (if not all), but Art Garfunkel was the main voice that gave those songs those notes that pierced (at times literally)

Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12085739436874554686noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15531196.post-1152540673915425432006-07-10T10:08:00.000-04:002007-02-12T22:26:36.603-03:00

Attention, folks:I found an even BETTER way to display the pictures. This way, you can just click on a picture in the box, and not have to worry about the picture having to go on to the next photo automatically. Plus, it's much more attractive to the eye...*bows*Happy Viewing!

Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12085739436874554686noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15531196.post-1152394893749236752006-07-08T17:38:00.000-04:002007-02-12T22:26:51.749-03:00

I have finally found a way to post those Israel pictures (as well as some other pictures of mine) to the web. The way I would prefer to post them (all pretty and stuff) requires me to host my own site...which I don't really care to do. However, this way you can see the pictures just fine. It may be a little difficult to find your way back to my blogsite, but the back button arrow below the actual

Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12085739436874554686noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15531196.post-1152131530380140792006-07-05T16:30:00.000-04:002007-02-12T22:27:07.683-03:00

the following video may seem like an innocent celebration...but just...keep watching...

Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12085739436874554686noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15531196.post-1151275908488511082006-06-25T18:38:00.000-04:002007-02-12T22:30:22.407-03:00

I'm really getting into this tinting thing that my picture editor offers. I'd never tried it, and it's totally awesome... randee jamie jordan orange randee sims yellow scott brandon jordan : a cerulean assembly aqua teenslime conversationsbrandon pinkjordan brandon violet...oh yeah...

Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12085739436874554686noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15531196.post-1150943585804123952006-06-21T20:28:00.000-04:002007-02-12T22:30:42.848-03:00

She breathes;inand it often leaves herand outwith less breath than before.alright; once againThis bothers her,insince this result is against the usual purposeand outof what breathing is meant to do.again.She then comes to the realizationinthat most of her breath is released in intermittent sighspausethat reveal the depression of her fragile nature.and...out.

Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12085739436874554686noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15531196.post-1150070283536527422006-06-11T17:54:00.000-04:002007-02-12T22:30:59.531-03:00

Just in case anyone was interested, I posted some pictures up from Israel on my site. In fact, I set up a new sidebar... 'subtitle', I guess you could call it, so that anyone who reads the blog can view some photos of mine by just selecting one of the links underneath.Well, I have to go now, seeing as my fried rice is breaking up and is harder to pick up with chopsticks, so I have to concentrate.

Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12085739436874554686noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15531196.post-1149982693314681282006-06-10T17:35:00.000-04:002007-02-12T22:31:16.096-03:00

The fall of man has brought about many interesting forms of expression in grief, and the eyes, those vital members of the body which we believe so much upon, seem to be the most vulnerable.However, are eyes the only things that weep?I think not.The soul weeps too--as do the words that sprout from such a bitter tongue.Sadness can only produce such explicit suffering--but what degree?Does that even

Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12085739436874554686noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15531196.post-1149958722336172832006-06-10T12:57:00.000-04:002007-02-12T22:31:43.222-03:00

hey...I'M BACK.*ahem*just thought you'd ought to know...

Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12085739436874554686noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15531196.post-1148493004141746462006-05-24T11:47:00.000-04:002007-02-12T22:31:59.058-03:00

Why is it in mortal gladness that we cannot seem to cope?Why is it in desperation that we find our greatest hope?

Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12085739436874554686noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15531196.post-1147137390430732862006-05-08T19:14:00.000-04:002007-02-12T22:32:14.673-03:00

this is what She feels like most days.

Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12085739436874554686noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15531196.post-1145630840389133172006-04-21T10:45:00.000-04:002007-02-12T22:32:31.913-03:00

Read and behold--the word cloud of...THOUGHTS QUITE SOBERING!

Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12085739436874554686noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15531196.post-1143647201825114332006-03-29T08:48:00.000-04:002007-02-12T22:32:46.707-03:00

HEEEEY!I'M POSTING!//NOTE//When reading aloud, do in a Strongbad voice. It is quite hilarious.

Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12085739436874554686noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15531196.post-1142957371092030442006-03-21T12:07:00.000-04:002007-02-12T22:33:01.312-03:00

She thinks...She's goin' blind.*squints to see if she spelled that sentence right*Yeah...yeah, She thinks so. If you saw her glaring at the clock during Ethics class, yeah, you'd totally humiliate her.And enjoy it immensely.

Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12085739436874554686noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15531196.post-1142265836552329232006-03-13T09:05:00.000-04:002007-02-12T22:33:16.974-03:00

She spoke in syllablesthat become words and phrases, but did not cohereand She thought that if She kept on speaking, it would finally flow together.But as She continued, the words piled up, and She began to drown in themTrying to find reason within something that could produce anything but.Tragedy.But when She found that Truth was elsewhere, She delved into it,and drank, and was satisfied.

Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12085739436874554686noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15531196.post-1141601747354772012006-03-05T20:34:00.000-03:002007-02-12T22:33:36.327-03:00

Within our hearts we carrya single frame of mind"I won't hurt yoursif you don't hurt mine."

Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12085739436874554686noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15531196.post-1141401767707068512006-03-03T10:02:00.000-03:002007-02-12T22:34:30.864-03:00

The ClockStrikes twelveAnd all is still.XThe ClockStrikes oneAnd we hear weeping.(her father's goneXshe doesn't love him anymoreXthe child rebelsXthe aunt diesXher body isn't perfectXhe has no friendsXhe lost his job)XThe ClockStrikes threeAnd all is silent again.No one heard anyway.Xwhere are His peopleXHis sheepXthat like the church in ephesusXused to be known for their love?X

Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12085739436874554686noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15531196.post-1140722923868609042006-02-23T16:23:00.000-03:002007-02-12T22:34:46.459-03:00

An old post...Tuesday, April 26, 2005Aha.You must remember that rushing floods and swift arrows are truly dwarfed by the curious mysticism of wand'ring, idle spirits. who are not really idle at all.They creep upon the afflicted warrior when they are already distracted. and as the warrior lifts his shield for the next attack the spirit gently taps his icy finger

Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12085739436874554686noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15531196.post-1140538670862519472006-02-21T13:13:00.000-03:002007-02-12T22:35:02.961-03:00

O Sacred Head, Now WoundedO sacred Head, now wounded, with grief and shame weighed down,now scornfully surrounded with thorns, thine only crown:how pale thou art with anguish, with sore abuse and scorn!How does that visage languish which once was bright as morn!What thou, my Lord, has suffered was all for sinners' gain;mine, mine was the transgression, but thine the deadly pain.Lo, here I fall,

Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12085739436874554686noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15531196.post-1139953988283989402006-02-14T18:50:00.000-03:002007-02-12T22:35:18.089-03:00

It had just occured to her that She has a certain fondness for music/etc. that happened to be inspired by LSD/other-drug addicts, at least for some period in their career, i.e. the beatles, pink floyd, poe...She just thought this was...ironic.

Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12085739436874554686noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15531196.post-1139328917369953962006-02-07T13:10:00.000-03:002007-02-12T22:35:33.417-03:00

The road not taken is lonely, quiet, and often discouraging--and yet it is the silence of it that brings comfort. To be alone is often comforting, in a rather inhuman sense. We were made to be social creatures, but we are so selfish that we often tear ourselves apart. This is why some take this solemn path, to escape ourselves. Yet even so there are some who take a road even narrower. This road

Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12085739436874554686noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15531196.post-1138897118925033982006-02-02T13:17:00.000-03:002007-02-12T22:35:51.204-03:00

HEY!*you look up in surprise from your course of riveting study*IT'S FEBRUARY!*you blink**she blushes*

Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12085739436874554686noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15531196.post-1137795666747473182006-01-20T16:23:00.000-03:002007-02-12T22:36:11.280-03:00

How deep were those days, when Death would cringe to hear us mortal men speak! We were then very proud, our voices rising to greet the crashing tide. Yet even then Death knew his victory, his greed for our fragile souls burning eternally. It was then that our flying spirits would thirst for laughter, hunger for companionship--yet we were greeted with silence. For laughter they gave us graveness.

Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12085739436874554686noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15531196.post-1137539112839656012006-01-17T17:05:00.000-03:002007-02-12T22:36:25.117-03:00

the sun stills, and all is warm and vibrantit is then that Time slows its courseand moments last longer in our memoriesbut even this is only for a momentand we wake to find tears of sorrow--and we wake to find tomorrow has comeTime took its usual course whilst you were unawaresfor it only lasts a little while, my friend.

Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12085739436874554686noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15531196.post-1136489510963555872006-01-05T16:29:00.000-03:002007-02-12T22:36:44.771-03:00

She thought she should make a new post, belatedly hailing the new year upon us....*ahem*"Behold, the glorious NEW YEAR 2006 is upon us!...er...rejoice and...be merry?"

Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12085739436874554686noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15531196.post-1135566839558406152005-12-25T19:05:00.000-03:002007-02-12T22:36:58.518-03:00

Since it was the day of much rejoicing and festivity, She decided not to be so...depressed, and to wish all a MERRY XMAS, which also happens to be of pagan origin (however, She is still questioning whether such celebrations, like people, can be redeemed).And on a final note, please do not persecute her for using "XMAS" instead of "CHRISTMAS", since the first letter of Christ's name is, in fact,

Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12085739436874554686noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15531196.post-1134772936645271332005-12-16T16:42:00.000-03:002007-02-12T22:37:11.567-03:00

The fool says in his heart,"There is no God."They are corrupt, their deeds are vile;there is no one who does good. Psalm 14.1From this She has concluded that the World is made up of fools.She thanks God that She does not live to serve them.

Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12085739436874554686noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15531196.post-1134590682566337592005-12-14T16:45:00.000-03:002007-02-12T22:37:33.017-03:00

tis so cold, so cold, in this wint'ry stillupon the lone and grassy hillis a snow.will it ever go away?5 I am the LORD, and there is no other;There is no God besides Me.I will gird you, though you have not known Me,6 That they may know from the rising of the sun to its settingThat there is none besides Me.I am the LORD, and there is no other;7 I form the light and create darkness,I make peace and

Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12085739436874554686noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15531196.post-1133539308203103152005-12-02T12:59:00.000-03:002007-02-12T22:38:22.420-03:00

She is writing this post, and frankly, She doesn't know why....She must be confused. Or senile.*nerves tensing...*

Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12085739436874554686noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15531196.post-1132374785823130792005-11-19T04:33:00.000-03:002007-02-12T22:38:44.066-03:00

"This day was a strange day," She thought, as it was drawing to a close. "Why was it, I wonder?"It must've been something with the weather. So cold...so fast! And yet, She liked the cold......So why should She be...sad?Then She thinks of all that their is to be done--all that needs to be accomplished, and her temperment will not allow it to be done without the best of efforts.And at times, She

Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12085739436874554686noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15531196.post-1131938441585553172005-11-14T03:20:00.000-03:002007-02-12T22:39:29.229-03:00

Ladies and Gentlemen, the verdict is in.She has decided to join an abbey."Gasp!" cry the Ladies and Gentlemen, much surprised, as She isn't Catholic and doesn't advocate monastic practices. "Why is this so?""Well," She replies, "I don't particularly see much hope in the Male Youth of Today for myself, so I figure I'll join the abbey, start a Neo-Reformation, and liberate all the nuns."The Ladies

Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12085739436874554686noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15531196.post-1131321796572362832005-11-07T00:03:00.000-03:002007-02-12T22:39:46.868-03:00

She is overwhelmed.Indeed, this is so, since She decided to do so many things--mainly out of the "guilt factor".And the things She really wants to do are the things she barely has time for.......She will find her rest in the LORD. He is SOVEREIGN, after all.

Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12085739436874554686noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15531196.post-1130890761272023642005-11-02T00:19:00.000-03:002007-02-12T22:40:03.281-03:00

She reviewed today in BIBLE class the CITY OF GOD (AUGUSTINE), on which the class expounded on this point:...for even in the likeness of the sufferings, there remains an unlikeliness in the sufferers; though exposed to the same anguish, VIRTUE and VICE are not the same thing. for as the same fire causes gold to glow brightly, and chaff to smoke; and under the same flail of straw is beaten small,

Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12085739436874554686noreply@blogger.com0