“The more we believe that God hurts only to heal, the less we can believe that there is any use in begging for tenderness. A cruel man might be bribed – might grow tired of his vile sport- might have a temporary fit of mercy, as alcoholics have fits of sobriety. But suppose that what you are up against is a surgeon whose intentions are wholly good. The kinder and more conscientious he is, the more inexorably he will go on cutting. If he yielded to your entreaties, if he stopped before the operation was complete, all the pain up to that point would be useless.

C.S. Lewis “A Grief Observed”

I have chosen this piece for interpretation because sometimes it is hard for people to understand that life as a Christian is not always lollipops and gum drops, there are a lot of tears, plenty of trials and tons of tribulation. As Christians, we should grasp this understanding because if we are truly going to impact the world for Christ we need to be able to share the full Gospel – including the “hard parts” of Christianity.

“The more we believe that God hurts only to heal, the less we can believe that there us any use in begging for tenderness.”

Typically when people think about God they only think about the qualities of God that soothes the positive image of Him and completely shuns anything that would make God seem as if He were all powerful. It is like calling Him King and taking away His authority. Reading this passage one would more than likely furl their brow because it is beyond them that God would intentionally hurt us. However sometimes it is easily lost in the “feel good” gospels of today to truly embrace a relationship with Christ.

Christianity is more than good times; it is hurt and tears as well. When God allows painful or uncomfortable situations in our lives we can always ask for relief, but this passage lets you know that once one comes to realize who God is, the less likely they will be to ask God to relent. At those points it is clear that going through the fire only refines your knowledge of who the Holy One of Israel really is. God allows pain so that He can show us that He is truly the Comforter and He allows trials to show us that He is our Deliverer. What other way would you come to know the character of God?

“A cruel man might be bribed – might grow tired of his vile sport- might have a temporary fit of mercy, as alcoholics have fits of sobriety.”

Where would you be if God ever grew tired of watching you grow in Him? Dead…….spiritually dead. If God said for a moment alright let me not allow trails and tribulation into this person’s life because it is not necessary for them to “trust me” it is just better if they “believe in me”. Can you imagine what the state of Christianity would be today? There would have been no Jesus and no cross.
In the Garden of Gethsemane, before He was delivered to the Romans, Jesus Christ Himself was sorrowful. In the Garden He pleaded with the Father, “My Father, if it is possible, may this cup be taken from me. Yet not as I will, but as you will." Imagine what it would be like today had God said, “Okay Jesus, since I love you so, you don’t have to die on the cross.” There would have been no salvation, no remission of sins, no stripes by which we are healed; we would have had no intercessor to intercede on our behalf to the Father. But that is not how it went because the will of Christ was not granted, it was over ruled by the will of the Father and here we are today, blood-bought children of the covenant.

“But suppose that what you are up against is a surgeon whose intentions are wholly good. The kinder and more conscientious he is, the more inexorably he will go on cutting.”

God sends us through hardships to refine us and to make us better image bearers of Him. How can we emulate what we don’t understand? God allows us to go through pains and trials to give us a new perception of who He is in His Sovereignty. As Christians sometimes we like to package God in this neat little box and give Him a list of Do’s and Don’ts. When people think about operations all they can think of is the pain and the down time but they completely forget the phase of recovery.

Recovery can be defined as the “act of obtaining usable substances from unusable sources” or “restoration to a former or better condition”. God as the Master Physician through painful situations removes a lot of the hindrances that in the way of perfect relationship with Him. The more He realizes that preconceived notions, about who He is, halts your relationship with Him the more He is going to more he cuts. Jesus stated it clearly in John 15 when He compares us to a vine: "I am the true vine, and my Father is the gardener. He cuts off every branch in me that bears no fruit, while every branch that does bear fruit he prunes so that it will be even more fruitful.” If God never took the time to prune our lives through circumstances would we truly bear fruit?

“If he yielded to your entreaties, if he stopped before the operation was complete, all the pain up to that point would be useless.”

When things that seem unbearable in life close in on us, as Christians the first thing we do is say it’s the enemy and pray that God removes the circumstance. But what if day after day goes by and the situation still looks the same, does that mean that God did not hear you? On the contrary it is the exact opposite of that. God’s will is always perfect even when we don’t understand it. His plan is to grow us through trials, pain, and suffering but those are the exact things what we a Christians want to avoid. Imagine just for a moment what your life would be like had God stopped His pruning process all for your pleasure. You would still face the same issues over and over again. You would be “ever learning” about the same situations. Everything that you had gone through would become obsolete and the learning cycle would be on constant repeat.

I think this interpretation matters today because, as those who are going after God, we have to understand God’s nature. God is holy, just, and faithful. We have to get the understanding that everything in this walk will not always be good, but it will always be for our good, even when we can’t understand it. God is Sovereign, which means He does not have to explain His actions to anyone but at times He chooses to. When He allows pain, trials, and tribulation in our life it is because He is refining us for a new level in Him.

Old Man with Enormous Wings

I would like to use a pass on this post.

I really enjoyed reading The Boys Next Door, it's really enlightening. AS I read the story I just sat and thought about the characters and what they have to face or go through on a daily basis to live a normal life. The story took a whole new outlook when I went on the trip to AFI today. Just being amongst men and women who are just like the characters in the story made the story all the more real.

In the story you have the characters who don't really realize that anything is wrong with them they just live life the way that they know how to live life. It was the same for those over at AFI. Even though they have what we classify as developmental delays they still strive to live a fulfilled life just the way that we do. Whether it is working at the snack bar, running for a committee, learning job skills, or just coming everyday to hang out with their friends, their lives are meaningful to them just as going to school, working, or hanging out with our friends are meaningful to us. Though we have our differences, we are still very much the same.

I actually have an aunt who is in a group home and has been there for quite some time. The last time I saw her was a t my grandmother's funeral and I remember her saying "Don't cry she is in a better place, it's going to be alright." Ironically enough I already knew that but others around may have thought she was just talking but even though she does not operate on the same capacity as the average person did not make her any less of a person. She tapped into things that the "average person" that day could not realize.

Polk Art Museum

On the banks of Juniper Springs,
Splashing of gentle waves,
Songs of birds,
Rustle of trees,
All heard in the tucked away oasis.

Though connected to the source of life (water),
Death is still inevitable,
Among the plethora of green,
Others slowly fade away,
Slow and quiet,
As not to disturb the picturesque scene.

The reflection of life in the waves,
The buzz of insects and the sounds of spring,
create a familiar cadence,
to the tune of nature to which they march.

Cool water on my feet,
Under a shade tree I find serenity,
I close my eves and get lost in the leaves,
That rustle at the shores of Juniper Springs.



I went to the Polk Museum of Art for this assignment, and I stayed there for at least 40 minutes. Being a newbie to Lakeland I never knew that this was something that existed in this town. It is amazing how during this first semester I am able to learn about hidden nuggets of culture and literature in this our class. While I was in the museum I went into the new exhibit that they have with the Japanese Textiles, Prints, and kimonos. I thought it was pretty cool. Thinking of it now reminds me of my 8th grade year in Hawaii (I was learning elementary Japanese and also learning about the culture - including the art of rolling sushi). I also noticed the artifacts exhibits for the Ancient Arts of the Americas exhibit. I did not get to spend a lot of time there because there was a class taking a tour but what I did see seemed rather interesting.

To my recollection I have never gone to an art museum and just stood and stared at a painting. I have watched people do it on TV and in movies but it was a whole new experience, doing it personally. It made me wonder if the artist actually took and easel and paint and painted it on site or if it was painted from a picture. As I stood and looked at the painting I finally figured out how people could stand there and stare for so long. I found myself getting lost in the painting (the colors, the brush strokes, and the calmness). It was just like being there as it was painted.

There have been field trips that we have taken this semester that will probably be places I visit after this semester is long over. I just thought this trip, as well as all the others, were really enlightening.

Reading for Transformation

"(1) the world of the text, (2) the world behind the text, (3) the world before the text"

When I was reading this article this struck me because often time we read a story, an article, or even the bible for that matter, it is often that we do not stop to think about the society from which text is developed. I find that sometimes, when I am reading, I am reading without any notion of thinking about cultural norms and origin of that text. While I was reading this article it just really made me think how much I truly have been missing because I have neglected to pay attention to those factors. A lot of times we read things and can’t understand them because we have connected with the time that the text was written.

In thinking about the world of a text, especially in relations to Scripture, sometimes when reading the Word it is hard to grasp some of the things that are going on because we are approaching it with a 21st century mind when it was written so long ago. In order to understand it in certain areas you have to understand all three of these factors.

This does not just hold true for Scripture but for all literature, whether current or not. In order to truly engage in the literature you have to put yourself in the place and time of the author because through their words they are trying to get you to see what they saw and feel what they felt.

We can always apply it to today’s situation and imagine the way someone felt or what they saw but until you see or hear the story through their eyes then you truly take away from what the text is supposed to mean.

Darkness, Questions, Poetry, and Spiritual Hope

"pause, listen to the question, repeat the question, and finally live the question as a process."

This statement was very profound today because it is in effect very true (in respect to life, faith, and other aspects of life). In our Christian faith it would be easy to think that our walk would be one of sunshine, roses, smiling and joy all the time but that would in essence be robbing our faith of the salt that makes it real. It’s about asking ourselves daily what God requires of us and really reflecting on that then dedicating this life to His cause. Being a Christian does not mean automatic perfection; on the contrary it means that each and every day can be another hill to climb, reminding ourselves of what we must do. A sinner can be transformed in a moment but to become a saint will take a lifetime or trials, tribulations, ups and downs. Your labor as a Christian will not cease until the Lord calls you home or until Christ Himself returns. It is truly a process.

“Facing darkness, ultimately, however, is not about darkness but about hope, about validating our spiritual hope.”

The same is true of the fact that darkness truly exists, it is important that we as Christians understand that powers and principalities do exist and that everything in life will not always be right or fair. Our understanding of that balance makes being Christian all the more worthwhile. Whether it is fear of a calling, of failure, of dying or unanswered questions about life it creates a breeding ground for this to be a control mechanism over your life. When we garner the courage to face darkness (fear, unanswered questions, etc) it is those times that we see Christ operate at the highest levels in our natural lives.

Nature Beckons

As graceful as a bird on the wings of the morning sky,
As delicate as the look from a swan's eye,
As protective as a mother is over her unhatched born,
As a tired bird rests till the morn,
Are all that nature beckons.

No one knows the way the wind blows,
The bend of the grass beckons to the east,
The ripple of the waves counter to the west,
All responding in reverence to the Creator of all things,
The grass, as all creations, bows in reverence to what the eye can't see,
No one knows the way the wind blows,
but His invisibility still commands respect.

We as creation are all God's handy work,
Created to enjoy one another,
The carefree yet careful construction of all kind,
titillates the senses yet boggle the mind,
The petal of flower,
the abstract of a bare tree,
The ecological balance of peace and serenity,
Are all that nature beckons.


I went to Lake Bonny Park for this assignment, and I stayed there for at least 40 minutes. At Lake Bonny the constant blow of the breeze was inspiring. I just closed my eyes and allowed the breath of God to be a reminder of His omnipotence. During what little quiet time I did have I meditated on the ripple of the waves and the bending of the grass that looked like it was bowing in reverence as a response to the wind.

After I left Lake Bonny I went to Lake Morton and was completely encapsulated by the number of birds that use it as a "vacations spot". There were swans, mallards, ducks, crows, all there in harmony feeding off of the bread of its many visitors. I walked across the grass and around the lake and noticed just how at peace the birds were there in spite of the human presence.

I snapped so many pictures and just t stood and admired the tranquility of the area. Though it was in downtown Lakeland, there was a peace around the area. It was undisturbed and REAL.

I really enjoyed this outing. I began to read the "Messenger" by Mary Oliver and found myself constantly stopping at the line "My work is loving the world". That's what I found myself doing today, loving the world. Many days I have just driven by and not taken the time to notice the beauty of his handy work. Not only trees, flower, mountains, and streams, but birds, soil, grass, and all the things that we see as something common. I loved the waddle of the duck, the grace of the swan, the call of the mallard, the touch of the constant breeze, and the blessings of his creation. Today nature beckoned and I answered the call.

State of the Planet

"You come across it in the Mexican desert,A palo verde tree near-by, moss green. Some Insect-eating bird with feathers the color Of a morning sky perched on a limb of the tree. That blue, that green, the completely fierce Alertness of the bird that can't know amazement Of it's being there.......But soon enough We'd have fashioned sexy little earrings from the feathers, Highlighted our cheekbones by rubbings from the rocks, And made a spear from the sineweywood of the tree."

Just reading this part of the poem made me think about the ever changing fashion industry. Having worked in retail there is always new fashions. New York, Paris, London always debuting the latest fashions but we are never really curious about where things are coming from. The shimmer of eyeshadow, the sparkle of our nail polish, the twinkle of the blush. Most of the things are not 100% synthetic they have natural foundation.

I have seen the earrings, shoes, belts, and bracelets that were made of colorful feather, and animals skins, and because it is either "in" or "trendy for the moment the demand out grew the supply. Have we ever stopped to wonder if the feathers and skins were coming from birds, or reptiles, that once thrived on the planet who now, because of "fashion" may be on the endangered list. What about the minerals that support a multi-million, if not billion dollar cosmetics industry annually. Where are the sources coming from? The commercials tout that they are 100% natural so again because of vanity we are harvesting and exhausting resources that may not be around for the future generation.

During this poem it talks about the greed of humanity that is robbing the world of its resources. Just reading this section of the poem and looking at an ever growing fashion and cosmetics industry shows the greed and the vanity of humanity (whether we want to admit it or not). We are willing to strip some poor animal of their skin for the latest thousand dollar pair of shoes. It's no wonder PETA and other earth concious organizations are always full force - you have people wearing the skins, furs, and minerals that so rightly are being stripped from the earth at rapid rates. As fast as things are being taken nothing is being returned. This viscous cycle shows no sign of slowing unless we all wake up and realize that this is the "State of the Planet".

This Blessed House

First let me start off saying how much I really enjoyed this story. The first time I read it just because it needed to be read for class, but once I reread it I began to linger on the text and found it to be even more enjoyable than the first time around.

In reading the story the you learned more and more about the characters as the story progresses. Sanjeev and Tanima (Twinkle) are a newly wed Indian couple who in getting settled in their first home, also show signs of getting settled in their relationship. Sanjeev seemed like a very rigid, straight-laced, meticulous individual who always thinks he is "right". Twinkle on the other hand seems to be a fly by the seat of your pants type of person. Seriousness is not her strong point. In reading this story you find that Sanjeev, prior to marrying Twinkle, was a bit of a loner....Twinkle was way on the opposite end of the spetrum. Sanjeev in a sense saw that was one of her "flaws".

Throughout the story they are engaged to disagreements over "Christian" paraphernalia that is found in their home. Sanjeev does not want it in the house one bit but Twinkle refuses to get rid of it. Sanjeev cared more of what others would think than anything else. He just wanted to fit into preconceived societal mold and not appear to be different. Twinkle on the other hand could care less. Midway through the story, during their housewarming party Twinkle, through sharing the story of discovery, has pretty much recruited the entire party to look for more trinkets throughout the house. Even though by the end of the story Sanjeev is pretty much convinced that while they are looking for trinkets he could secretly discard the others, he stops and thinks of Twinkle and how all the little odd things that are not "normal" about her is what makes him love her all the more, and just goes along with the flow.


After doing some reflection on this story it made me think a little about the Christian types that are in the world today. There are the frigid and the free-spirit ones. Sanjeev represents the frigid ones (by the book and only the book, no room for tweaking the bigger picture - basically it is what it is and that is all their is. It's either the old way or no way. If you are not 100% living right (forget trying to live right - Chrisitans are not a work in progress), if you don't fit that "cookie cutter Christian" prototype... you are going straight to hell...do not pass go do not collect $200. Tanima (or Twinkle) of course would represent the free spirit - one who shares the Gospel of Jesus Christ in away that makes other want to get to know her God better. It is the reckless abandon for the search and the joys of the discoveries along the way that has the people mesmerized. Their light shines so bright that people can't help but jump on board. Christ said when He is lifted up he would draw all peoples to Himself.

How many times have you met people who say they "don't do" church because they do not feel welcome. It's either because of the way they are dressed, how they look, their past precedes them, etc. See people want to come to Christ but shy away from doing so because of the judgement of man. It becomes truly hard for people to accept the unconditional love of Christ because they are judged by alot of rigid "Christians". We should see the differences in all of God's children, not as flaws but as unique characteristics that make Him love us all the more. Can you imagine what the outcome would be?

Short story

“Okay stay calm, stay calm, stay calm,” Amanda kept repeating to herself as she waited amongst all the other families in the room. Clutching her “Welcome Home Bravo Company” banner and a 2-month old baby boy, she could barely contain herself. The atmosphere was filled with raw emotions of anticipation and utter excitement. “Haden your daddy will be here soon”, Amanda says with a giddy laugh. Swaddled in a blue fleece blanket, Haden just lay against his mother’s chest, listening to the stampede of her heart as he napped.

“Is this the first time your husband has been deployed ,” quipped a freckle-faced woman, standing just beside Amanda, who nervously clutched the hand of an impatient 5 year –old little girl. “Yeah I am so nervous I can hardly contain myself”, Amanda said. Amanda turned slightly to find herself face to face with a woman who was a spitting resemblance to Lucille Ball, all except for the freckles. She had the same flaming red hair and impeccable cheekbones. “Lucy I’m home”, echoed through Amanda’s mind as she stared into her intense blue eyes. She was in such disbelief that all of her senses seemed to come to a grinding halt. “My name is Elizabeth by the way,” she heard as she snapped back to reality. “This is the second time that little Katie and I have watched her daddy be shipped overseas since she was 2 years old. Thankfully this is his twentieth year of service and he is retiring next week”, she continued. “My name is Amanda, and this little bundle is Haden. He will be seeing his daddy for the first time,” Amanda stammered as she tried to continue into the conversation. All the while, Amanda incessantly stared at Elizabeth, quite to Elizabeth’s discomfort. “Are you alright hon,” asked Elizabeth, who at this point was quite blushed. “Oh I am so sorry Elizabeth, it’s just…...” Amanda said with a sense of hesitancy. “Has anyone ever told you that you look just like…,” by now Amanda was biting her lower lip, “Lucille Ball,” she blurted out. “You know I get that a lot and I just don’t see it,” said Elizabeth. Now that the never ending urge to tell Elizabeth about her uncanny resemblance to Lucille Ball had been quenched, she found herself more at ease in the conversation.

“You know Robert and I, that’s my husband whose arrival we are awaiting, used to sit around on our old beat-up microfiber sofa, that we had since we got married 6 years ago, and watch old episodes of I Love Lucy, eating popcorn and laughing at the high jinks and mishaps that Lucy continued to get into,” said Amanda with a chuckle. “He was my Ricky and I was his Lucy,” she continued with that far off look in her eye. “He would come home from work and yell “Lucy I’m Home”, and I would say “Awww Ricky”, she continued by this time laughing hysterically. She had to contain her laughter because she noticed Haden beginning to shift from her abrupt motions.
“You two seemed to have a pretty fun filled relationship,” said Elizabeth. “Yeah we are two big kids,” replied Amanda. “Edward and I are the same way, and I am so glad that after 20 years of being an Army wife, that I will finally have him home all time,” Elizabeth replied with sigh of relief. “We still have 9 more years to go,” sighed Amanda. “This never gets easier does it?” “Nope,” replied Elizabeth, “But your love for one another forms and unbreakable bond, that’s what gets us wives through.”


Not knowing how long it would be before their husbands’ arrival, Amanda and Elizabeth made their way to the rear of the capacity filled room and found three small chairs tucked off in a corner near the exit. Haden was still fast asleep and Katie getting more and more anxious by the moment. As the two ladies sat and talked, Amanda cradling Haden and Katie still hand in hand with Elizabeth, the chatter of the many awaiting relatives grew louder and louder -so much so that they almost had to leave the room to hear themselves speak.Suddenly Katie jumped up and said “Mommy let’s play duck, duck, goose.” “Honey mommy is tired right now, we can play when daddy gets home,” said Elizabeth. Katie was completely oblivious to what her mother said and was already circling the chairs like a honey bee circles a flower. “Duck, duck, duck, duck, duck.....goose,” Katie let out with a squeal and began running even though no one was chasing her.

With all the commotion going on in the they barely heard the military cargo plane touchdown on the tarmac outside. “Katie, Katie, Katie,” Elizabeth called out to her daughter as she watched her do donuts around the tables and chairs, her cute sandy brown curls and frilly dress flouncing to and fro, “Honey please sit down before you hurt yourself.” “Just let her run, my niece does that all the time,” Amanda chimed in, “she will tire herself out in no time.” As they continued to watch as Katie ran around the table, squealing at the top of her lungs, they barely noticed families reuniting with their loved ones who by that time had started filing into the room. “You know I can’t wait for Haden to be that age so he and Robert can have that rough and tumble play time,” Amanda said. “I can’t wait for Robert to come home, I miss his jet black hair and that Spanish accent that I fell in love with, when we met during a missions trip our senior year of college.”


As she was speaking Robert walked up quietly behind Amanda who was oblivious to his presence. Katie, who had been running nonstop around the tables and chairs, stopped abruptly and stared at this “stranger” who had walked up. Robert placed his index finger over his lips as if to tell Katie “shhh it’s a secret”. Elizabeth, not wanting to spoil the surprise leaned in and said, “Tell me more.” “He was so handsome and funny and did I say handsome,” Amanda said blushing. “Oh I can’t wait until he gets home just so I can hear him say…..” “Lucy I’m home”, Robert chimed in. Amanda spun around in utter shock and tears began to run down her face and she said, “Awww Ricky.”

Character

I would like to use a pass for this blogging entry.

Thanks

Freda

Freda's Blues

We live in a housing project....It looks like a parody of the good clean, faceless life- God knows the people who live in it to do their best to make it a parody. The beat-looking grass lying around isn't enough to make their lives green. The hedges will never hold out the street, and they know it."

Campbell Terrace, Fayetteville, North Carolina was one of the most notorious housing projects for drugs, raids, shootings, basically a lot of the bad stuff, but for quite some time it was home for me. Recently it was demolished and oh how I longed to have a brick as a memento.

Campbell Terrace was home to a lot of my family - mom, grandmother, cousins, uncles, aunt, and siblings (we had generations living there all at once). Most of the apartments had a small flower bed on the porch and a small patch of grass in the front, but no matter how you tried to dress it up it was still the projects.

The projects - home to drug dealer, users, struggling single mothers, under compensated elderly...but the best place to be to learn about life. There was only one way in and one way out of Campbell Terrace and because it was not a very huge place people knew each other. When something happened we all knew it. I remember seeing the drug dealers, the addicts, the loose women, and teens and young adults who not necessarily wanted to, but at times, wound up being just like them. There was no way to keep out the streets - Campbell Terrace was the streets and everyone knew it - from one end of Fayetteville to the next. When trouble went down, no one saw anything or heard anything. It was surprising though because most of the times it was rather quiet, in a place like CT that spelt trouble...lol!

Just reading a lot of Sonny's Blues took me back.....way back. Though the projects were not the most ideal place, it's where I hold the fondest memories. Memories of corner candy store runs, paper food stamps, sitting with my friends on the front stoop, seeing people out in the streets conversing with one another, big boom boxes in the window, Kool-Aid icee cups, and tube socks with the colored stripes. Those were the days when it was still okay to knock on the neighbor's door and borrow sugar, eggs, and milk or to even ask if their child could come outside and play (we played until it was almost time for the street lights to come on). Though it had its crime, we protected our own. Yeah…….. the good 'ol days.

Everyone from Campbell Terrace had their Blues, but the tune is always different depending on who you ask.

The Imgainary Invalid

I attended Southeastern's production of The Imaginary Invalid and watched the entire play.

The Imaginary invalid is the story of a man by the name of Argan, who pretty much spent most of his time trying to convince people that he was sick (hypochondriac). He was not the most pleasant individual to be around because it seemed like it was either his way or the highway. He had this sassy maid, named Toinette who had to put up with being called almost every name in the book by him. Argan also had a gold-digger (a woman only with him for his money) for a wife , Beline, who would be the sole heiress to his estate if he died.

Argan decides to arrange a marriage for his daughter, Angelique, to a doctor, Thomas Diafoirus, so that he may acquire all of his medical necessities at no charge. He was not aware, nor concerned, that the daughter had a love interest, Cleante, of her own and was in no way shape for or fashion interested in marrying another. When Angelique found out she was devastated, but her father (the loving man that he is **sarcasm**)told her that she would either marry or be confined to a convent. How can I describe Thomas? He was a rather interesting character. He seemed like the only way he became a doctor because he knew someone, who knew someone, who knew someone else that would confer him as a doctor. She and Toinette devised a plan to trick her father into allowing her to marry who she wanted to marry.

In the end though Argan's brother, Beralde, and Toinette convince Argan to let Angelique marry Cleante, by letting Beline's and Angeliques's true feeling be known by Argan pretending he was dead) and later convincing him to become a doctor so he could treat himself.

Though this play had its hilarious parts, sadly enough - in some areas this is all too real. In alot of countries women are forced into marriages that they do not desire for the sake of the family. They stay in the marriages and bear children because due to customs, and culture, they are obligated to stay with their spouse whether they love them or not. With children borne of this loveless, they miss being raised on mutual love (love between the parents). They are raised on the initial principles of the relationship (which really had nothing to do with love at all).
Another reality is that there are relationships today, where a parent meets and marries someone new and they care more about the new spouse than the feelings of the children, whose opinion becomes null and void because mommy or daddy has a new husband or wife.

There are also situations today where people marry for money and money alone, no love or common interests. These types of unions rarely last because there is nothing really holding them together. Excessive money without clear vision in a relationship can be the root of all evil. This leads to people staying together because of the age old adage “It’s cheaper to keep her (him)”, even though is most cases extra martial relationships are present. You see it plastered across the news all the time.

There was also alot of manipulation in the parts of many in this play, even on the parts of those who were just trying to get the situation to come out for the better. All that manipulation had it played out in real life would have just continued to wreak havoc over their lives. It is always good to remember.. if it is begotten with lies you have to lie to keep it.

All in all it was a great production. This was my first time attending an SEU production and it will not be my last. They are truly gifted and talented to do what they are doing.

The Blogging Continues

Though our discussion on blogging was brief on Monday, I came away with a few nuggets of advice, in preparation for submitting my mid-term blog, as I am sure others did. Danielle, made the commented that used Microsoft Word to make sure her blogs was the accurate length and that her spelling was correct. Though I have been blogging for the last few weeks, I had not thought of using that tool in checking my spelling and making sure that my posts were of the desired link. So tonight as I put my blogs together, I actually took the time to do that and it was pretty neat...lol!
In doing so I found errors that I would not have otherwise noticed. Just being careless in that matter, made me recognize that I need to so that for all of my posts from here on out. That advice was very much needed. **Thanks Danielle*** :-)

Also during our group discussion the topic of engaging and inputting text references in the blog came up. And though it was a bit of a surprise to some, it is something that I have found myself doing automatically in most cases. I guess I just wanted people to understand what I was saying and why I was saying it. Just having that group discussion as a prelude to turning in our blog was beneficial because it prompted me to go back and check my own posts.

Just being able to talk to my peers, and getting insight from Professor Corrigan in class, helps me because in the beginning I was not a "blogger" or even one who thought about blogging. However over these last few weeks and with the quality of the pieces that we are reading and enacting I think I could see myself as LaFreda Thomas, blogger extraordinaire someday...lol! I look forward to the remainder of the semester and the opportunity to increase my overall quality of blogging.

Blogging

Working on the blogs this semester I can honestly say has been one of the most interesting and beneficial educational approaches that I have had the opportunity to experience. In the beginning I can honestly say that I did not know a lot about blogging (in general) but I have come to appreciate the power behind blogs. Your words, thoughts, and feeling towards a piece can speak more volumes that face-to-face interaction at times. Through this avenue I have been able to approach literature from a variety of different aspects.

As described in the How to's of blogging, because of this class I have been able to translate literature to another medium and get multiple interpretations (via classmates) on how they felt on a particular piece. Thus far we have experienced a lot of genres of literature which has really made me think beyond what I already thought I understood. I was used to just reading a poem and thinking that I understood the first time around but through blogging for the course, I find myself rereading the material in the midst of blogging just so I can portray my accurate thoughts and feeling .It is amazing sometimes, as I read classmate’s blogs, at the different interpretations that come up though we are all reading the same text. We have translated pieces into art, for example the Book of Joel, which made blogging about it all the more easier. Painting the pictures allowed me to be immersed in the text rather than my eyes just skimming over the top of the words.

I have also found myself on many occasions reflecting on my own personal life to create more meaningful blog posts. I was able to closely relate to a few pieces such as The Things They Carried because I myself am a military brat. I think that just being able to tap into all these different sources while blogging has been so refreshing.

As students, I believe that this blogging assignment has challenged us to think on deeper levels than we intended coming into this class and thought things may have seemed awkward to do it made the literature and blogging about the experience just that more interesting.

Wisdom - Tiger Flowers, Roselawn, and Lakeside Visit

Psalm 90:12 - So teach us to number our days, that we may apply our hearts unto wisdom.

Today I went to Tigers Flowers, Roselawn, and Lakeview Cemeteries. I pulled out my copy of Walt Whitman "When Lylacs Last in the Dooryard Bloom'd" and began to re-read. As I slowly strolled the picture of the poem began to come to life in my mind-

Passing the apple-tree blows of white and pink in the orchards;
Carrying a corpse to where it shall rest in the grave,
Night and day journeys a coffin.


I could envision the processional that would be the final resting place and the somberness of the occasion. The uncontrollable mourning and sobbing of those who were laying a great leader to rest.

As I walked the winding paths my eyes surveyed the land, and bounced from headstone to headstone, as I read the inscriptions of those who had been gone as of late and those who had been gone long before I took my first breath. I read a paragraph from the poem I would lift my head and look around and read the tombstones. "Mother, Father, Resting in Jesus, I lived as I died..a Christian" were neatly engraved in the marble tombstone that adorned the graves. And as I took in my surroundings I heard the songs of the birds as they sung the melody of nature. It was reminiscent of the line "Sing on! sing on, you gray-brown bird!".

O what shall I hang on the chamber walls?
And what shall the pictures be that I hang on the walls,
To adorn the burial-house of him I love?

In passing a tomb, I paused momentarily and wondered what tokens of love were hanging or scattered abroad within to remind the loved ones of the love that remained for them here on Earth. Was it photos, artificial flowers, war medals, jewelry - what could it be.

Once I was done reading the poem I just strolled in silence, stopping at the tombstones that bore photos to look into the eyes of one the one who passed on. Wondering what life for them was like. Alot of instances I found spouses who were buried beside one another. In some occasions they died only a few years apart and in others decades and I wondered what life was like for them once their "love" passed away.

Needless to say I spent my 40 minutes at the cemetery - and I must say I was reluctant to even go because I felt uneasy. Nonetheless, I went and I am glad that I did. I was reminded of a statement that my Pastor made - the richest place on Earth is the cemetery because many people die without reaching their potential. As that thought echoed in me I asked the Lord to show me how to make the most of the time I have left so that when I die I will not be remembered just as a loving wife and mother. I want to be remembered as one who led the lost to Christ, fed the hungry, clothed the naked, prayed for the sick, and remembered the forgotten. So as I walked out of the cemetery my earnest prayer was "So teach us to number our days, that we may apply our hearts unto wisdom."

When Lilacs Last in the Dooryard Bloom’d

When reading this poem, at first it was hard for me to understand some of the first verses, but as I read on it became apparent that Walt Whitman was referring to the death of someone that he held dear. My favorite passage in the poem was:

Coffin that passes through lanes and streets,
Through day and night with the great cloud darkening the land,
With the pomp of the inloop’d flags with the cities draped in black,
With the show of the States themselves as of crape-veil’d women standing,
With processions long and winding and the flambeaus of the night,
With the countless torches lit, with the silent sea of faces and the unbared heads,
With the waiting depot, the arriving coffin, and the sombre faces,
With dirges through the night, with the thousand voices rising strong and solemn,
With all the mournful voices of the dirges pour’d around the coffin,
The dim-lit churches and the shuddering organs—where amid these you journey,
With the tolling tolling bells’ perpetual clang,
Here, coffin that slowly passes,


When I read this passage it made me think of a soldier's burial or the burial of someone who is held in high regard. As I read this I was reminded of a newspaper article that I had read about a local solider whose body was returned home after he was killed in Afghanistan. I read the article and looked at the pictures - the somberness of the soldier's faces as they unloaded the flag draped coffin and the tears that fell from the eyes of his wife and parent. So when I read this part of the poem it made me think of what the atmosphere was like the day that Abe Lincoln was being buried. All the faces of those that he had inspired and all those who loved him dearly - frozen in a state of sadness, shock, and disbelief.

This could very well be said of the crucifixion of Jesus - watching as they made Him carry His own cross and then crucified him in front of the masses. What utter sadness and disbelief His followers and those who truly loved Him must have felt. But I am so glad He rose again.

Discussing this in my small group gave me some insight on passages that I had no clue how to decipher and it also gave me the opportunity to listen to how others viewed the poem and what it reminded them of. It is so refreshing to have other input outside of my own because helps you look at literature as a "whole" rather that just a "part".

The Traveling Onion

When you read "The Traveling Onion" one at first glance one may think that it is actually really about just an onion (because in the literal sense it talks about an onion), but when you start to read between the lines there is more going on than meets the eye. Nye comments:

And I would never scold the onion
for causing tears.
It is right that tears fall
for something small and forgotten.

It makes you want to know the story behind the story. What is it about the life of the person described, that has been forgotten. Everyday we pass people on campus or on the street not really knowing their story. They could all represent onions....you can assume how they are, where they come from, and what type of person you think they are, but it is not until sit down and get them to open up that you get the entire story. Nye also makes the statement:

How at meal, we sit to eat,
commenting on the texture of meat or herbal aroma
but never on the translucence of onion,
now limp, now divided,
or its traditionally honorable career:
For the sake of others,
disappear.

I could apply that story on a personal note to my own life - a few months ago I walked away from a career to pursue my call to ministry. At times I miss my job and my colleagues but for them the business day goes on. At one time I was integral part of their team and for a fleeting moment there was sadness because of my impending departure, but my contributions have become small and forgotten because I no longer hold that position. They would never know that it at times, in the beginning, it would hurt me to hear how business as usual progresses without me. Nonetheless this is the flow of life.

Joel

The Book of Joel is shows two sides to God. The side that renders judgment and the side that pours out immeasurable amounts of grace. In reading this text Israel had failed to obey the commandments of the Lord and He (being the Sovereign One) would have to punish that disobedience. I found it very interesting how the Scripture goes in depth of the destruction that the Lord will bring upon them as a result of that disobedience:

What the locust swarm has left
the great locusts have eaten;
what the great locusts have left
the young locusts have eaten;
what the young locusts have left
other locusts ^a]">[a] have eaten.

God, in His displeasure is telling them the magnitude in which He destroyed their lands. There is no food of the fields, water is scarce, and offerings have been cut off. The desolation of the land is unimaginable especially for God's chosen people. At the same token He creates a way of escape for the children of Israel (through repentance):

Declare a holy fast;
call a sacred assembly.
Summon the elders
and all who live in the land
to the house of the LORD your God,
and cry out to the LORD.

In His wrath, He still has mercy for the children of Israel.Calling them to wail and cry out before the Lord for their land to petition for all to be restored. God knew the magnitude of the devastation - the lack of food would not have killed them, then invaders would have because it seems that God's hand would have been withdrawn from them.

God went to the one who He knew that they would listen to the prophet. This all reminds me of the world today. Many hear the devastation called by disobedience in the Bible and act as if nothing will really happen but then when the unexpected does, they run back to God. Even in our error is love for us so abounds that He welcomes us back with unlimited grace and mercy and restores that which was lost.

The Things They Carried

The Things They Carried was a very interesting story. It reminded me of the life that I grew up around. I am a military brat as they call us. Growing up in that environment one get used to life's ups and downs alot faster than the typical civilian. There are long deployments, months of field training, mobilizations...and the list goes on. Up until 2001 I was living near Ft. Stewart, GA - one of the most rapid deploying bases in the Southeastern United States. When the World Trade Centers were hit and the subsequent increase of troop presence in Afghanistan. My step-father had recently separated from the service but that did not make him immune from being "called up" (reinstated) if needed. I was mortified at the thought.

Being that environment allowed me to see mass amounts of troops being deployed overseas and hear stories of ones who did not return. In the Things They Carried O'Brien writes " They carried all the emotional baggage of men who might die. Grief, terror, love, longing - these things were intangibles, but the intangibles had their own mass and specific gravity, they had tangible weight." This was very profound to me because it accurately portrays the mind set of most soldiers. When they get the call that they are heading for war, their minds begin to race about family (parents, wives, children) and for the single ones girlfriends or fiancees. People see soldiers and see the external courage that they portray when they are in uniform but emotionally sometimes they are a train wreck. In their mind are mental Polaroid snapshots of the ones that they love and are taking up arms to protect.

When preparing for war they have to prepare as if they are not coming home. Can you imagine? The tears of the family as they say what could possibly be the last goodbye?!? Or getting that phone call or seeing the chaplain standing on their door step. The things they carry emotionally not only affects them but all those connected to them. It becomes shared load - not just by the immediate family but an entire community.

There were more than a few instances in the story where it kept being reiterated that "Ted Lavender died" this is crucial because these are some of the things that they carry - memories of fallen friends and comrades. Soldiers see unimaginable things while in the midst of hostile situations - things we may never know.

This story really hit close to home for me and made me think of all the ones who sacrifice for our freedom.


FYI: Fort Stewart has a dedication memorial called Warrior's Walk - a Eastern Redbud is planted for every solider connected to that division dies and to date there are over 400. Here is the link: http://www.stewart.army.mil/warrWalk/default.asp

Reading A Grief Observed by C.S. Lewis has really been more of a self-reflection that reading about someone who is grieving over a lost loved one. He touches so many points and makes so many parallels in the book I couldn't help but wonder and reflect on my own walk with Jesus.

There were more than a few instances in the text that I had to stop reading and really give deep thought to the words that were leaping from the page. 

In the last chapter C.S. Lewis made the statement - "If you're approaching Him not as the goal but as a road, not as the end but as a mean, you're not really approaching Him at all." This statement was so profound to me. How many times do we as Christian (in situations where it seems like the main line to Heaven is disconnected) approach the throne of grace as a means to and end and not as servants knowing that the ultimate answer lies in Him? Sometimes it is done so subconsciously that it is not even realized. We try to make God do what we want Him to do rather than surrendering or life to what "His Will" for us actually is. 

After all isn't that the message of Christ:

When He had called the people to Himself, with His disciples also, He said to them, “Whoever desires to come after Me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross, and follow Me. (Matthew 8:34)

Notice the Scripture says "Follow me" not I will follow you.

If we are approaching God as a way and not "The Way" then of course there are going to be times of silence because our request will not line up with His will. So in essence you are not approaching God you are asking Him to approach you (by asking that He set aside His perfect will to give temporary gratification).

I never would have thought that this book would have made me think (spiritually as much as it has) because upon reading the title one would think that it would not challenge the way that I felt it has challenged me. Reading this book has been a pleasure for me and I could see myself immersing myself in another C.S. Lewis novel in the near future because I like the way it challenges the mind. 

When reading "A Grief Observed" one of the things that really struck me was the way C.S. Lewis compared his faith to a house of cards. He made the following statements:

"From the rational point of view what grounds has Helen's death given me for doubting all that I believe? Should it, for a sane man, make quite such a difference as this? No. And it wouldn't for a man whose faith had been real faith. The case is too plain. If my house has collapsed at one blow it is because it was a house of cards. Indeed, it's likely enough that what I shall call, if it happens, a 'restoration of faith', will turn out to be only one more house of cards."

As a man of faith, due to being so angry and at times overcome by his grief, he began to question whether his faith was faith at all or was it all his "imagination".  Had he just tricked himself into thinking he believed or was it actually real because during his grief  his faith seemed to be missing in action.  He later makes the statement

"..God has not been trying to experiment on my faith or love in order to find out their quality. He knew it already. It was I who didn't. In this trial He makes us occupy the dock, the witness box, and the bench all at once. He always knew that my temple was a house of cards. His only way of making me realize the fact was to knock it down."

This statement alone would make someone reflect on the faith that they believe they possess. Alot of times in life we have faith in God in the great times, the good times, and in the so-so times. But what about the times where it seems that your prayers are not going through, or a loved on is sick, or everything around you seems to be crumbling. As believers we have the faith to sustain us in the best of times but alot of the times it's like standing on sinking sand if the pendulum is swinging in the other direction. But regardless God already knows.

This book is like a fresh does of reality - kind of like that nasty medicine that your mom would try to get you to take as a child. This type of literature makes you reflect on various aspects of your life but it is also in your face. It challenges what you think you hold true.

Reading this book makes me think about the nature if God - that I have encountered for myself but many others may not know. You see in my time on this earth I have had a great deal of things come up and when I approached the door of God...no answer.  The silence of God at times stung like being snapped on the leg with a wet rag but it was necessary. Sometimes growth comes in silence -- because in due season the answer (revelation) will come in some cases but then again sometimes not at all.

I enjoy "A Grief Observed" because of the reality of the words -- this is someone's pain (in its rawest) form, not a facade. That is what a lot of believers need to know -- walking with Christ is not a cake walk. It's not sugar and spice and all that's nice - it's tears, trials and tribulation. But in the end it is all for the Glory of the One who created it all.

 

Still I Rise

You may write me down in history 
With your bitter, twisted lies, 
You may trod me in the very dirt 
But still, like dust, I'll rise. 

Does my sassiness upset you? 
Why are you beset with gloom? 
'Cause I walk like I've got oil wells 
Pumping in my living room. 

Just like moons and like suns, 
With the certainty of tides, 
Just like hopes springing high, 
Still I'll rise. 

Did you want to see me broken? 
Bowed head and lowered eyes? 
Shoulders falling down like teardrops. 
Weakened by my soulful cries. 

Does my haughtiness offend you? 
Don't you take it awful hard 
'Cause I laugh like I've got gold mines 
Diggin' in my own back yard. 

You may shoot me with your words, 
You may cut me with your eyes, 
You may kill me with your hatefulness, 
But still, like air, I'll rise. 

Does my sexiness upset you? 
Does it come as a surprise 
That I dance like I've got diamonds 
At the meeting of my thighs? 

Out of the huts of history's shame 
I rise 
Up from a past that's rooted in pain 
I rise 
I'm a black ocean, leaping and wide, 
Welling and swelling I bear in the tide. 
Leaving behind nights of terror and fear 
I rise 
Into a daybreak that's wondrously clear 
I rise 
Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave, 
I am the dream and the hope of the slave. 
I rise 
I rise 
I rise

I really enjoyed the "field trip" to Tuscana Ristorante, it's was a break from the norm and the environment, to me personally, was quite conducive for unrestricted literary discussions. I had a great time talking to Danielle, Faith, and Katelyn about their literature tastes and found that Faith and I shared a common interest. That day I opted to being poems by Maya Angelou (Still I Rise and Phenomenal Woman) and we both really admire her work.

"Still I Rise" has been one of the literary poetic works that I have admired for quite sometime.   Maya Angelou has the type of voice that commands the attention of the audience so much so that it is almost magical. It goes in depth in very little words, you can feel the power behind the words of this poem. She makes the statement, "You may write me down in history With your bitter, twisted lies, You may trod me in the very dirt, But still, like dust, I'll rise. The reader is left to read it with their own interpretation, because everyone has a point in their life where they had to "rise" from difficult circumstances. Whether it is from personal failure or something that was caused by other external circumstances.

For me it was the verse "Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave, I am the dream and the hope of the slave." As an African-American, I can really identify with this line because my great-great grandfathers on both sides of my family were slaves. And I am only the second generation on my mother's side of the family to attend college. So this poem really resonates as somewhat of a personal reflection for me. When you think about that era many think that it was so long ago but it wasn't. I am proud to be the living and breathing hope of those who have gone before me.

In sharing this literature, and how it is important to you personally, you are allowing to people to see a part of the "real you" (how you think, what moves you, and motivates you). It's like taking off a mask and showing who you really are and what makes you tick and regardless of what it is you are more appreciated for your tastes.

Happy Endings

When I read, and listened to Happy Endings out loud, of course it seems a little......peculiar. Of course there is only one story with a happy ending and that was "A".  Ironically enough, it today's society you do not hear a lot about the "A" stories but you are bombarded by the B,C,D,E and F stories.

That's almost the story of the world today....isn't t? You rarely hear of the great couples who fall in love, marry, and die without all the drama because that in essence is "too boring". But just one flip of the switch on a remote control and your eyes and ears become over indulged with the stories of adultery, trysts, murder-suicides, etc because that is what sells. 

I am pretty sure more often than not that there are many instances of a "Happy Ending" in this world. This part of the story puts me in the mind of another piece that we read in class "What We Talk About When We Talk About Love". If you recall in that story Mel was telling a story about an old couple who got hit by a drunk driver and were in really bad shape but managed to pull through evasive surgeries to save their lives. Then he proceeds to talk about how they went from critical to being in their own room but that still was not satisfactory to the husband and that he fell into a deep depression (even knowing his wife would survive). He revealed the reason of the husband being in that state because "he couldn't see her through his eye holes". Mel seemed floored by the fact as he states that "the man's heart was breaking because...he couldn't turn his (gd) head to see his (gd) wife".  I honestly think that this is what kept that couple living for each other. Regardless of death at least you know that you knew the feeling of being happy and in love in your natural life. That is the true power behind a "Happy Ending".......enduring love. 

I am not one to avoid the realities of this world that we live in but sometimes I need to detox from  all the junk that is out there and know that DRAMA is not all there is to this life.

"What We Talk About When We Talk About Love"

When reading this story there were some sentimental moments, funny moments, some sad moments, and some moments that made you think. Reading this piece showed love at many different scales from the "honeymoon love" to the destruction of love and every aspect in between. This story is really good at making a challenging the mind on what a person really thinks love is.

Laura and Nick are still in that "honeymoon" phase of love where everything is roses and sunshine. Their love is seemingly "new" and everything is okay. Their romance still lingers and their sentimental gestures are still evident from the kiss on the hand and Nick placing his hand on her thigh.They respect one another's opinions - evident in them looking to each other for opinions when prompted by questions or comments from Mel and/or Terri.


Terri, Mel's wife, had been in a relationship prior to Mel that subjected her to mental, physical, and emotional abuse, but through that she still had the sense that the man (Ed) love her. Mel made the comment that Terri was "of the kick-me-so-I'll-know-you-love-me-school". You can tell that Mel and Terri had been round and round on this subject before because of the sarcasm that was exchanged between the two. When thinking about it the abuse inflicted by Ed could, to him, have been his way of showing that he loved Terri. Maybe that was the way things were done in his home growing up and his mother accepted the treatment so that was the way he equivocated his reflection of love. Mel on the other hand, most likely, could not see himself treating Terri in that manner because he saw a different display of love as he was growing up. What may be a display of love to one person may not be the way another expresses it......it is not universal. He has an utter disdain for Terri's ex and cannot understand why she continually defines that relationship as love.

Terri and Mel's love display is what I would call a "flaws and all" type of love. They have keep no secrets from each other about their past, heck they even ran like "fugitives" from Terri's ex together. They put all of their cards on the table and the chips fall where they may. Oddly enough, though Mel is not beating her like Ed did he does seem to have an issue with truly respecting her. He cuts her off when she speaks, belittles her opinion, and even tells her to shut up on occasion. Though this is the case Terri considers this as an acceptable type of love - evident because they are married. Though he carries some traits as Ed (drinking and verbal outbursts) it is not as extreme and more manageable to Terri. It makes one wonder what makes her attract these types of men.


Ironically enough all of these types of love are evident in the world today both inside and outside of our great nation. Especially the ones where women are ruled with seemingly and iron fist and an open hand. Though it is not always women who are being abused, they seem to be the vast majority.


I think the interpretation of the text is that not all love is shown the way one would think that it should be shown. Some people interpret love in different ways - some with slap, others with sarcastic exchanges, others with a kiss on the hand or a caressing of the thigh. It really depends on the person. Who are we to say what "LOVE" looks like because it looks different to different people.

Early Literary Influences

The early literary influences that I can remember in my life were the Dr. Seuss books (Green Eggs & Ham, Cat in the Hat) and Aesop's Fables. When I was a child I loved to read because it was an escape for me. I would get lost in the books and let my imagination run free. I pretended to be a character in the book so it made reading an adventure. I thumbed through the pages reading day after day and would be easily consumed by the words, so much so that I would finish the book in a few days' time. When I would ready the Dr. Seuss I would be so amused at the rhyming of the book and would find myself laughing as I read. Aesop's Fables there was a lesson to be learned from the story and depending on the reader and the number of times the story was read, the lesson could be different.

Other books I enjoyed reading when I was younger were the Little Golden Books (I really liked the uniformity of the collection - all of them had that gold book spine), Judy Blume (Superfudge and Ramona), R.L. Stein (Goosebumps), Francine Pascal (Sweet Valley High)...the list could go on and on. Just thinking about now takes me back and my heart skips a beat just thinking about the time I spent in the pages of the stories.

As an adult the book that I read that has had more of a recent impact on my life is Right People, Right Place, Right Plan by Jentezen Franklin, Senior Pastor - Free Chapel in Gainesville, GA and Orange County, CA and my personal pastor and spiritual covering. I thoroughly enjoyed this book because it talks about allowing God to show you, speak to you, and align you with your destiny. It really made me think about alot of the aspects and things in my life that I had not 100% allowed to be under God's control and this book helps you to let go and truly allow God to be God.