Me, my life and all things strange

Echoes in the wind

2007-03-08T23:42:00.000Z

Tonight I find myself with a rare opportunity; I actually have a night to myself. Obviously this means that I worked really, really hard trying to catch up on all the work I’ve missed out on due to that round leather ball, and didn’t spend it lying on my bed, vegging (apparently this is not a word, so I’m inventing it as it really should be) out in front of my PC watching videos online.

To be honest I have no idea what’s going to come next, I just had the urge and time to write something… so here goes…

Let’s look at the start… the title. I often try and link the title of my post to what’s written underneath- after all I am a good little linguist – but today I just made up a title first and am now going to see if I can link it into the post; a challenge I’m sure you’ll agree I’m not up to, but hey there’s no harm in trying…

So, what’s the first thing that springs to mind when you think of sound echoing in the wind? For me there were many things, some even Biblical, but obviously it is down to your own interpretation; it’s like one of those exam questions you get in GCSE RE where it asks you “what you think” and as long as you babble about nothing concrete you get the marks.

Anyways, enough with the nonsense; below are some of the things that sprang to my mind – some are conceivable, the others a bit more imaginative: -

1. Some dark, hooded, ghostlike figure gliding in and out of the trees of an old forest. It is night and there is a low mist covering the land. The figure leaves a trail of breached mist behind them as they coast unflinchingly towards their unknown target…spooky….

2. When you catch the faint trace of a conversation, but it is too restrained that you cant quite catch what is being said… then, before you know it, the noise is gone, and no hint of it remains;

3. Here’s the Biblical one… I think that some people think that God is like an echo in the wind. They know He’s there, and realise they should do something about it, but in their opinion He just doesn’t cut the mustard in today’s culture. He’s an alright guy, just nothing special, and is generally an afterthought that they’ll listen to when they can hear him better; if that is you beware – one day you will hear Him… I just pray it’s not too late in your case;

4. The persistence of a sound after its source has stopped, carried by the wind.

Obviously some of the above notions are more fanciful than others, and to be honest I used poetic licence in the first to make it sound a bit cooler; oh well there you go; I’m not perfect… contrary to popular belief.

I think I’ll stop my ramblings there… if you have any other philosophies to what you think “echoes in the wind” actually means, then please do let me know… I might even give the best a prize. If not then try making something up- to be fair that’s probably more interesting. Alternatively you could just quickly click on the “home” button and pretend you never read this; to be honest I don’t really care – sorry that that’s not very politically correct…I’m just an arrogant old man who’s set in his ways.

Hope this filled a hole in your boredom… I aim to please (notice “aim”).

Take care,

Daniel

Finding Neverland

2007-03-05T23:00:00.000Z

From the very first moment of cohesive thought, I made a promise to myself; to never grow up. I always knew that childhood was the best time we would have on this planet, before seeing our creator, and due to this I wanted to be the real life Peter Pan. This wasn’t some sad, juvenile notion; there is a true underlying reason to it.

Although being a child meant that I would be free of responsibility, stress and graft (all of these things being a bonus), they weren’t the true reasons why I didn’t want to grow up. Instead, over the last couple of weeks I have really begun to realise what my true motives were…

In worldly standards I am probably seen as a bit of an oaf; a nice friendly oaf, but an oaf none the less. This perception of a Shrek-like persona doesn’t really bother me; if I’m honest I like my own space and, unlike many people, enjoy my own company to a greater extent of the time.

However, by doing this I have also shut myself off from many experiences people see as the norm in today’s culture. For example, I’ve never been in a relationship, never been clubbing, and never bungee-jumped one-legged off of the back of an elephant. This, to many of you may shock and appal you- I know you would have thought someone as handsome as me would’ve had the girls flocking in droves, and with my dance moves… actually not going to lie about that; the less said about them the better. It may surprise you though that I have no regrets that I’m different. In a sense it’s allowed me to hold onto my childhood for that little bit longer.

So why am I telling you this? Don’t worry ladies it’s not because I’ve come off the market, and it’s definitely not because I’ve recently caught disco fever. Instead, I wanted to challenge you by asking you, what is keeping you young? Have you forgotten what it is to be child once in awhile, or would you rather see your childhood to be a distant memory? Although it’s important to grow up, I also think it’s important to let your hair down once in a blue moon and remember the good old days, kick back and relax; after all the older we get the busier we seem to get also.

But all of that mumbo-jumbo (sorry love that phrase so had to fit it in somewhere) hasn’t really answered my question… why do I want to be a real life Peter Pan?

In a nut-shell, children are so pure; in thought, mind and deed. Even though they can be selfish, horrible and throw the occasional tantrum, I just love the way that they are innocent to the World. Death, violence, sex, drugs, immorality and the like don’t play on their minds; instead all they do is run around playing- not worrying what tomorrow may bring. Instead of impure thoughts on promiscuity and lust, they think about “who’s it”, and the only fix these kids will be getting is when they break their toy truck/doll because they are, “loving it too much”; generally the this responsibility falls to the dominant male in the house will take over the duty of the “fixing”, as they see it as their paternal right to perform the task, (however, in my experience I have found many women who are as good at this, if not slightly better – they’re just not given the chance… see, I’m not always a chauvinistic pig).

So why do I want to be Peter Pan? Let me answer with another question… “Who wouldn’t want to be Peter Pan?”

Stop striving too hard for tomorrow, when there’s a whole day in front of you to live first; and remember Mark Ch10 v13-15.

Take Care

Daniel

Mark 10:13-15 (New International Version)

"People were bringing little children to Jesus to have him touch them, but the disciples rebuked them. When Jesus saw this, he was indignant. He said to them, "Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of God belongs to such as these. I tell you the truth, anyone who will not receive the kingdom of God like a little child will never enter it.""

No Jobs, No Brains

2006-12-12T16:17:00.000Z

This weekend was the annual Christian Union House Party. Believe it or not, this wasn’t in a house and, well, there wasn’t even a party in the conventional sense; instead it was a conference in Wales where we learnt more about the cross and had bags of time to spend getting to know people we’d only said hello to once out of politeness (twice if you’d forgotten that you’d already spoken to them beforehand – a common schoolboy error). If I’m honest, I wasn’t particularly looking forward to going, as the weekend also coincided with my 20th Birthday – this meant that I’d be losing my teenage status; something I am, to this minute, upset about; I no longer have the excuse to be immature (though this wont stop me don’t worry). Also, I wasn’t really in the mood to be sociable- believe it or not I’m quite an introverted person, and prefer my own company (to be fair who can blame me I am pretty *INSERT NICE WORD HERE TO BUILD UP EGO*).

With that said, I can honestly say that God really blessed me over the weekend with a plethora of good bible-based, challenging talks, and some great conversations where I actually got to know some people a bit deeper, opposed to the normal skin deep banter which is the norm. Instead of coming back tired and dejected, and came back encouraged, and well, tired (due to the total of 5 hours restless sleep in one weekend).

Apart from the talks and the worthwhile natters, one thing which really stood out was the annual North vs. South match. Coming off the back of an 14-11 routing of the North last year the South, with William “Lionhearted” Leonard at the helm were in high spirits about our chance this year. Battle cries of

“No jobs, no brains”
“you are illiterate, and illegitimate, we pay your benefits and you’re all idiots”

echoed across the valley as the South team charged across the battle field – eager to impose themselves early on the game. As the valiant men and women fell silent to fervently waiting for their opponents to appear, the ground started to shake. Out of the chalets atop the crest of the hill came swarms of Northern Monkeys. Slowly they sauntered onto the pitch, sneering foul and abusive chants not decent to post on such a pure blog. When they had finally reached the pitch there was a small horde of Northern-folk, easily outnumbering the gallant Southerners 2:1. At this point, the South were in desperate need of inspiration. Through the mist William the “Lionhearted” Leonard strides towards the Northern scum, no fear evident in his deep-set eyes. This is what followed: -

“Let me tell you a story. It’s from the Bible. A long time ago the Israelites were facing a terrible foe; the Philistines. The Philistines were giants of men, and were strong in number; nobody thought they could lose. Then, from nowhere, a young boy, David, stands up, with the help of God, to the whole army, and slays there champion Goliath with a single stone. The point of this tail is that, you may have more men, you may have better players, and you may destroy us, but throughout all this the South will stand undivided, giving their all to their final breath. If they can stand they will fight, if they can’t stand they will still fight; only when they have been maimed sufficiently will they curl up and die”.

Note- this has been slightly adapted for dramatic emphasis.

Anyway, as the game got underway it was clear to see that the South were fighting a losing battle. The sheer weight in numbers made it impossible for the South to cope, and although every player gave 210%, and sometimes 310%, the final score was 17-8. This in no way reflected the overall performances of the two teams and if I’m honest, I am proud to be South. After the game, the Northern mob disbursed as quickly as they’d arrived; relieved to have won what was really a no-contest game. The South however, rejoiced for many minutes; reliving ever goal and every save. Many photos were taken, and the annual dive-down-the-hill-on-your-stomach was achieved, not once, but twice. It really was a perfect birthday; the memories from that game will live on longer than any jibe or insult throw by a pretty Northerner.

I better leave it there, though I could go on for hours. It was a beautiful moment, a beautiful day, and a beautiful victory for the art that is football; it’s not about the winning, it’s about JOGA (play beautifully). I’ll leave you with a picture of the noble South – the real winners.

Take Care

Daniel

Through the looking glass

2006-12-08T16:05:00.001Z

Note: - I’m meant to be in exam for the next hour or so, but I got bored so I left early, hopefully

Today is officially my last day of youth, and I thought it might be a good time to reflect on my life so far. Instead of looking at the highs and lows, I’m going to take a look at how God has guided and provided to me thus far. I’ve said in previous posts how I’ve felt myself change over the last couple of years at university, but there have been so many instances in my life where He has shown or protected me.

The first one of these was probably the most entertaining to write down; so excuse the poetic licence and long-winded explanation – especial apologies to those who have heard it before.

Peanut Trials

Ever since birth to my mid-teens I was dangerously allergic to peanuts. This wasn’t one of your “I don’t like it so I’ll pretend to be allergic to it, so that I don’t offend anyone who cooks it” type of allergies; it was more of a “if I eat a trace, even a smidgen, my internal organs will start to shut down simultaneously until I, quite peacefully, fall into a coma which I would never wake up from”. So, naturally I was pretty cautious about what I ate, as 99% (gross exaggeration) of all household foods, as well as any other types, would say the dreaded phrase “may contain traces of nuts”. The reason why this is/was annoying is the fact that it doesn’t say that it does contain nuts, only that it might. So if I were to eat something, for example a Mars™, I’d being playing Russian roulette with my life. Sounds fun, but when it got to chickens being labelled with “may contain traces of nuts as it was alive once and might have ingested one of the farmers sons KP nuts when he wasn’t looking, therefore leaving a trace lodged in the chickens lower intestine” (that’s kind of paraphrased but you get the picture) it gets somewhat frustrating. So when I heard that THE Birmingham Hospital were willing to do the “PEANUT TRIALS” with me I was well excited; I mean there’s probably some super high-tech way of identifying the allergy receptor and zap it with a laser to stop me being on death row every mealtime. So, after my mother, father and I finally made it to an appointment, (it took us three times, as the first time the doctor had to cancel as he was in court – as a witness apparently, and the second time we wrote off the car 2 miles out of my hometown), I was devastated to find out that there were in fact no lasers or cool high tech gismos, but instead a jar of peanut butter and a HUGE hypodermic needle full of adrenaline. When I asked what the gargantuan needle the nurse said “it’s best to be prepared, whilst pulling out an oxygen mask and neck brace- she quickly assured me that these weren’t for me. When the doctor came in, some 30 minutes late, my greatest fears were realised as he explained me that the hallowed peanut trial was to feed me a small bit of nut and see what happened. Smiling weakly I was going to ask whether he was joking, but by this point he had obviously been a doctor for some time, and therefore as a consequence lost all sense of humour, so I didn’t see the point. What followed was the doctor force feeding me the smallest piece of peanut you’d ever see, me refusing to eat it, (I actually forgot how to swallow), and so he dropped it in a glass of water and made me drink it down instead. “See it wasn’t that hard was it” was the, by now exasperated, doctors reply. I’ll come and check on you every hour for the next couple to see what happens. So, every hour he came back and checked my pulse, asked if I felt “funny” (to this day I have no idea what that meant), and that I’d be able to go home soon – that was such a lie; another thing doctors aren’t very good at. Anyways, to cut a long story short everything seemed to be fine. On the final check-up, the doctor came in all smiley (obviously happy to get rid of me) and check my heart rate one last time. As he looked at the machine he chuckled to himself, and told me the machine must’ve been broken, so he took my pulse manually. The point I knew something was wrong, was when I saw his self-confident smile fade into one of fear, you know the one where the doctor realises that he might get sued. The next five minutes was mad. My bed was tilted up so that the blood rushed to my head, and several nurses crowded round me watching as my heart rate plummeted. Then the nurse grabbed that damn needle and injected it into my thigh; I’ve never felt pain like that before, and hope that I won’t have to again.

Needless to say that I lived through the ordeal; sorry to you guys who were hoping in it to end with my death so that they could say that I’ve been exaggerating again. I was told afterwards by the doctor (who looked a bit less pale now) that if I had been discharged 30 minutes earlier I wouldn’t have made it back to the hospital in time for them to give me adrenaline, and that it was still a small miracle that I pulled through as they caught it quite late. Oh, as a sub note, they did the whole thing all over again a couple of years later and I was fine.

This just shows how God really has looked after me, and must have a plan for me to do something; even if I don’t know what it is yet!

Anyways, I can’t be bothered to write anymore – last piece of teenage rebellion.

Until I next get bored.

Take Care

Daniel

The boy who never wanted to grow up

2006-11-09T22:35:00.000Z

This post is a bit random, as I’m writing it part-way through another one; left the other one at university. However, this one kind of links in with that one (you’ll see why if/when I post it) therefore I thought this one could go up first – I’m rebellious I know.

On reflection of the past couple of weeks; I’ve finally seen that step which I’ve been dreading for the whole of my youth; I’ve finally become a responsible(ish) adult. Words reverberate around my head, “The boy is gone, and the man remains” – no idea where they came from but I suppose it’s kind of true. This in itself is a scary prospect, as I vowed never to grow up, yet it seems that Uni life has made me realise that yes, believe it or not, there is life after childhood. Granted it isn’t as care free and innocent, but it’s not a bad existence. Gone are the days when I could spend hours on the PC and very little time on work, (and still pass with top marks); now I spend hours on the PC and very little time on work, only to fail – that’s a joke mum; I work hard honest.

Work aside, one advantage about growing up is the chance to grow up with God. Over the last couple of weeks I’ve been challenged in every area of my life. Everything I thought I had sorted has been shown up to be lacking, and I love the way that God is using every opportunity to teach me things. Obviously I’m still the sarcastic, propagandistic, unpleasant fellow I was when I was a child – I’ve just learnt from experience how to use my talents for greater affect.

Below is a list of what I think has changed in me: -

1. When I was younger I had the head knowledge; now I have it in my heart;
2. I used to be selfish; now trying to be selfless (though fail constantly);
3. Used to use God’s gifts for personal gains; now try to use them to help others;
4. When I was younger I was very sarcastic; now, well actually not much has changed there!

One other thing I’ve always been interested in is children’s work. There are many reasons for this, one of them being the fact that they have a similar IQ, but another being the fact that they’re generally (there are exceptions), so inoffensive and full of life. I help run (for want of a better word) one of the kids club at Bridge, and to be honest it can sometimes be the highlight of my week. I just love the energy the kids have, and it helps to remind me what its like to be ten again. Also, it’s a chance to get out of the student bubble and into the community; something many students find hard. If I ever have kids I’ll be the worst dad ever, as I let the rascals at kids club get away with murder half the time (not literally of course, as I might get chucked out, or put in jail). I can’t believe that things like this is actually “Serving God”; it’s great.

Anyways, enough rambling for now; need to actually do some work – mum said so! Might post again sometime if you’re lucky! Until then my fans…

Take care

Daniel

Long time no blog

2006-11-01T19:04:00.000Z

Well hello there my fan(s.). I know I haven't blogged in a while, and to be honest this one doesn't count either, as it's kinda short. This is something I found when i was meant to be working, and to be honest I spent a good 15 minutes trying to complete it. Maybe it's just my short attention span or competitive streak but I really enjoyed this. How sad am I? Anyways have a go if you're bored and let me know what you think of it!!

http://addictinggames.com/theidiottest.html

Now come on, wasn't that worth it.

Take care

Daniel

Imagine

2006-09-28T23:04:00.000Z

Imagine a world without sin, where everything is perfect; not the fluffy white cloud, angels with harps perfect, but the disease-free, loving everybody perfect. No more famines, no more wars; no more droughts or earthquakes. Violence is a thing of the past, addictions conquered.

Now imagine a world where sin isn’t prevalent, dominant or an overriding factor to society; it is in fact total. There’s nowhere to run, nowhere to hide; no one to share your thoughts with. You don’t fear being stabbed in the back; you wait for it to happen, resigned to its inevitability.

Finally, imagine nothing… an empty chasm. It’s like trying to fill a glass when the wells dry. Everything’s stuck in a perpetual motion of absence. Nothing exists before, after or in between…

Where are you?

Looking in the mirror

2006-09-16T14:07:00.000Z

Note: wrote this a few weeks ago, just didn’t get round to posting it; enjoy, if that is indeed the right word, though I don’t think it is; more like reflect I suppose.

Anyways…

I know that for many of us looking in the mirror is a scary thought, and for the rest of us, quite frankly, it really should be. I’m afraid this post is more of a sombre, honest evaluation of where I’ve been at over the last couple of weeks.

Although I have been enjoying my time at home, I have been aware that there has been a gaping hole in my life, as the days have seemed to meld into one, lethargy became my soul occupation. This, I have blamed on many things; ranging from “settling in” back at home, a general post-exam laziness. Never once though, did I blame myself – there was always something to contribute to my downfall which I couldn’t be held responsible for.

This week however, I am staying at a Christian conference in Aberystwyth. This may be alien to many of you; basically it’s a place where loads of Welshie’s (no racism intended) meet up to discuss God. There are two main meetings, Tuesday to Friday; it’s like church (or chapel as the Welsh would say) for four days straight! To be completely honest, I really wasn’t looking forward to the prospect of coming this year, and I can’t exactly say I’ve been blown away by the daily activities. For those who don’t know where Aberystwyth is, it’s a relatively small sea-side town in Wales, with a few main-steam shops, a promenade and a pebbly beach. Down the rod there is a "lush” (this apparently means great, fantastic and “boss”, though it just makes me think of grass!). The only problem is that this year it has been consistently raining all week, pretty much non-stop. Being cooped up inside has really dampened my spirits, as I’m one of those people who has an extremely short attention span, and as a result, I have to be doing something all the time. This has lead to me almost feeling resentful of coming to the conference at all; I mean what’s the point of coming to a Christian Conference if all it’s going to do is rain; note intended sarcasm.

All these things put me in an even more negative mood when it came to the meetings; I mean how can some old welsh guys really know what I need to hear? It was at this moment I had one of those shrinking moments, you know the ones that make you feel as big as a fresh garden pea. Although these old Welshie’s may not know what I needed to hear, God certainly did and praise Him for His glorious wisdom.

On Monday night we were spoken to on the following passage: -

James 1:19-25 (NIV)

Listening and Doing

“My dear brothers, take note of this: Everyone should be quick to listen, slow to speak and slow to become angry, for man's anger does not bring about the righteous life that God desires. Therefore, get rid of all moral filth and the evil that is so prevalent and humbly accept the word planted in you, which can save you.
Do not merely listen to the word, and so deceive yourselves. Do what it says. Anyone who listens to the word but does not do what it says is like a man who looks at his face in a mirror and, after looking at himself, goes away and immediately forgets what he looks like. But the man who looks intently into the perfect law that gives freedom, and continues to do this, not forgetting what he has heard, but doing it—he will be blessed in what he does.”

I’ll let you re-read and digest this, as it is really powerful stuff. Please read it again, slowly trying to imagine yourself in as both of these men looking in the mirror. Now I’m not here to preach to you, as I myself am neither qualified, nor perfect in these matters, but which man are you more like, honestly? I know which one I was that night.

The very first verse summed it up to me;

“Quick to listen, slow to speak and slow to become angry.”

Don’t get me wrong, I don’t mind listening to people, and am always happy to help, but the bit about slow to speak, and slow to anger rally isn’t me. I mean, I can’t think of the last time I passed up an inappropriate sarcastic comment, or got frustrated at the slightest (not actually relevant or important) thing. I know we all do this from time to time, but I really felt like this time, God really he me pinned to the wall; and does he leave it there? Of course not; like any good father trying to teach his son a lesson he keeps pressing the point so that I was left in no doubt.

Quickly imagine a large, well-built 6”2ft man physically cowering in his chair (or pew) to the words coming out of the mouth of a 60+ year old man. Now imagine that man actually shrinking in size, till he was the same size as a bit of fluff left on the chair by a previous occupant’s woollen jumper. That’s how I felt when God knocked me for six (cricketing expression for those among us who aren’t well educated) with the simple question of: -

“Do YOU look in the mirror, but forget what you look like as soon as you’ve left the house?”

This, to many of you, may seem like a trivial question, but you only need to look at my unkempt hair to see this is true about me. Now, try applying the same question as a metaphor to your spiritual life. I think the best way to describe his is with the analogy the speaker used on that day: -

“Imagine you saw a blemish on your face as you quickly glanced in the mirror. What do you do? Do you just leave it and rush out, after all you are already late for work, or do you move closer to see what the problem is? Of course you move closer, as each blemish will would need different treatment. If it was a pimple it may need squeezing, but if it was a more serious blemish, like a rash, you may need to go and get a prescription from the doctors, before it gets worse, or spreads.”

At first, the whole visual image of the speaker squeezing his “pimples” in the mirror make me chuckle to myself, but on further reflection you can see what he meant. Many of us, myself included, just try to cover up problems/gaps in our lives with short fix answers. Very rarely do we actually take time to look at what the underlying problem is. We need to spend more time right with God. This can be a painful process, after all not many of us enjoy pointing out our faults to others, let alone to the most High Supreme, but trust me it works.

Although it is still raining here in Wales, and my hair is still as unkempt as ever, I know that I will try to look in the mirror as much as possible, to make sure three are no new pimples to squeeze, or rashes coming back.

I’ll pray you do the same.

Take Care

Daniel

The Great Escape… part three

2006-08-11T20:53:00.000Z

Firstly I must apologise about the time delay; I’ve been so busy (*ahem*) that I haven’t had the inclination to actually finishing writing this up. I thought that it was best to wait till I felt, in myself, ready to complete such noble a piece of writing. Unfortunately I got bored of waiting and therefore this will have to make do I’m afraid. Let us pick up where we left off…

3:00pm

With audible squeals of delight we finally reached a big blue sign saying “M62”. Eventually we had made it out of Liverpool; it had only taken us just over an hour.

Flooring the beast Aslan informs me that he hadn’t actually had time for breakfast, as he was too busy packing (more like sleeping), so after a short piece of contemplation, we decided to stop off at the first services; being men we know that it is foolhardy to do simply anything on an empty stomach, and to this day I maintain this is the reason we got, well misdirected (men never get lost).

Anyways, as we pulled up to the Merseyside service station, just off of the M62 (I fondly call them the “the wigwam’s” – if you’ve been there you’ll understand), I asked my esteemed colleague what he wanted to devour. Predictably he replied,

“mmm Chicken”

This was when we discussed our imminent journey. Due to our slight diversion, we hadn’t actually had time to discuss our route home, diversions, if any, and, most importantly, who was going to explain why it had taken us so long to get home (as you will see, it took us far longer than planned!) Deciding that we really should try and make up a bit of time (a futile effort because of course we were sticking to EVERY speed limit… honest) we thought that it was in our best interests to go straight home. This tough meant that the journey itself was going to be really boring, and if you know Aslan and myself, even a little, you would know that this wouldn’t do. This is when it came to me (yes I’m afraid I have to take the responsibility to what happened next, something I am not proud of in the slightest.)

The stupid fool: - “Aslan, I wonder how many service stations there are on the way home?”
The slightly more sane lion: - “I dunno mate, quite a few I think”
The stupid fool: - “Well I was thinking (never a good idea), why don’t we stop off at each one and count them?”
The slightly more sane lion: - “Yeah sure, why not? How many do you reckon they’ll be?”
The stupid fool: - “Oh at least five more at least, what do you think?”
The slightly more sane lion: - “only five more, I reckon there’s gonna be seven in total”
The stupid fool: - “you’re on! I’m pretty good at these things- there’s definitely not going to be more than six in total”.
The slight more sane lion: - “you’re on!”

Needless to say, I was wrong! What happens next is actually not that interesting to read; if you’re on a short time allowance, skip the next couple of paragraphs (or in fact you can stop reading all together, after all I’m extremely impressed you got this far).

Journeying to the service stations

To save time, and your sanity, I’ve condensed these into bullet points, each representing a service station. Everything below is actually true, though I have spied it up ever so slightly to stop you falling asleep whilst reading. So sit back relax and enjoy.

1. Obviously you know about this one; this is where we (or I) came up with this hair-brained scheme (can someone please explain to me the meaning of this insult) to go visiting the world of the motorway service station;

2. As we pulled off, Aslan decided that he needed to test the laws of physics, namely the law of centripetal force; so conjunctly, we want round he roundabout a couple of times, and yes I was nearly sick;

3. Now this one had a very confusing car park, and we decided that we needed to see every part of it, so we went round it a couple of times. Unfortunately, Aslan was enjoying himself a bit too much and didn’t see the car reversing out of a space 50 yards in front of us. What followed was:

Me screaming “STOP!!!” at the top of my voice;

The beast skidding whilst Aslan performed an emergency stop, and to top it all off;

The didgeridoo catapulted from the back of the car (note I did say that it shouldn’t have been placed behind me) right into the back of my head.

Needless to say we left this one rather quickly.

4. Due to the commotion at the last station, we decided to show this one the respect it duly deserved; after all the stations are there for our convenience (the fact they charge extortionate prices is neither here nor there). So, very docilely, we waved our greetings to passers by. This was met by a mixture of responses. Some, very generously smiled and waved back to us, whilst others, who were less munificent (what a cool word- no idea what it means – was on Word thesaurus so thought I’d stick it in to look clever) gave us a filthy look- or even ignored us! When this happened, we turned round and went to greet them again, to make sure they weren’t left out; after all, Aslan is an inclusive kind of guy- no one needs to miss out, that’s just not nice.

5. As we pulled into this one, we had just heard, to our delight, that Wayne Rooney would indeed be back for England’s World cup campaign (this was before all the shenanigans against the Portuguese had happened). So, being truly patriotic people, we screamed at the tops of our voice “ROONEY!!” to the innocent onlookers. This didn’t go down to well, so we quickly clarified our position by adding “Yes he’s back!” to the end of our chorus’.

6. Now, this one was very special. We pulled up in a reverent silence. This station was special; it was the place where the hallowed game of JOGA would be performed. This, to all you heathens is a new style of football. The style we had chosen was one with involved man-against-man, where all of an individual’s skill and temperament would be tested. The car park acted as an ideal setting. Slowly I knelt down visualising what was about to happen. Picking up some dirt off of the ground, I rubbed it between my fingers drying the sweat on my palms. This was it; the defining moment in my life. Yeah, I'll stop there. There’s poetic licence and just pain stupid. Needless to say I destroyed Aslan and we went on our merry way.

7. By this point we had reached the M6 Toll road. Now what a posh road this is! Even the service station was posh- and the prices matched. I bought two drinks here, (Aslan the one) and it cost me the best part of £5. The worst thing was that neither of our thirsts were quenched. Fortunately, this being a posh service station, the answer to our dehydrated was gifted to us. Outside, as an alimental feature, there were those cool shooting fountains which fire out of holes in the ground n sequence. Seeing these, there was only one thing the lion and myself could do. Rushing outside, we approached the furthest holes and bent down over them, our faces directly above the holes. Nothing happened. “Why aren’t they work…“- Aslan was cut-off mid speech by a jet of water hitting him clean in the face. This I found hilarious as mine hadn’t fired, feeling very pleased with myself I turned towards Aslan and said “ner-ner-ne-ner-ner”, only to be hit seconds later with a jet of water. Unfortunately, mine hadn’t hit me in the face, because I had moved to laugh at Aslan. So, predictably, I was drenched from the head down. This was the cue for Aslan to go into hysterics.

8. Unfortunately, this is the final service station. I’m sure you agree with me though that eight services for one journey is more than enough. For this one we had pretty much run out of novel ideas, so we had “JOGA, the re-match”. Aslan’s forfeit for losing the last round was to wear his massive England hat whilst playing. To cut a long story short, Aslan had his revenge and (quite literally) ran circles around me.

At last, we pulled back into the centre of the universe, my house. The journey had taken us the best part of 5 ½ hours to get home. Getting out of “the beast” I knelt down and kissed the ground; it was good to be home.

Thank you for reliving our epic journey, I only hope I have done it justice in this tale. That day will live long in my memory. And a special thank you to Aslan, the mighty lion; you are a hero.

Take care

Daniel

The Great Escape… part two

2006-06-18T23:22:00.000Z

Turning out of my prison cell for the last time, I felt the burden of the last year’s troubles and disappointments drop off of my shoulders. However, I was more overpowered with a sense of regret, knowing that I would no longer be sharing a flat with Adam and Patrick. Although I am looking forward to moving into my new house, which encases some truly splendiferous people, I will miss the constant banter that filled the charged atmosphere of my past flat. Gone are the days of corridor tennis, (this included fry pans as rackets and a washing-up ball as coincidently a ball), corridor cricket (similar equipment) and the drunken antics of Patrick’s as he walked in at 3am half-cut (couldn’t write “off his head” as he might actually read this– if he did he’d vehemently deny this accusation, whilst swaying side-to-side with an dazed look on his face and a half-empty bottle of Vodka in his had). Our drunken antics generally involved wrapping him up with toilet roll, so that he could pretend to be an Egyptian mummy and make my crippled flatmate Adam (crippled due an unfortunate piggy-back race and a misplaced curb) jump almost to the ceiling with fright; not the safest thing to do, but it didn’t seem to do too much damage to his shattered kneecap so no worries – I laughed, that’s all that matters. Also, the constant cinema trips will be less frequent, as it’ll be a bit harder walking into Patrick’s room complaining I’m bored (believe it or not, I have quite a short attention span) and as a result deciding between us to go to watch an obscure film just to pass the time. Guys I salute you (metaphorically of course) and wish you well in the coming years; though funnily enough I have no idea where either of you live. Also, I may have put them off of living with blokes, as they are both coincidently living in all-girl houses; this doesn’t surprise me with Patrick, but Adams got a girlfriend so it must have a little to do with me – not that it bothers me greatly.

Ah! Sorry about the random tangent- trips down memory lane never end well, or briefly. Back to the topic of focus – the great escape…

After a few minutes of driving, Aslan turns to me and says “do you know how to get out of Liverpool?” Being the truly optimistic person you know and love (well mildly dislike) me for, I turn to him and reply, “this isn’t going to end well isn’t it”. After a brief chuckle, I see the smile fade and he goes “no really, I haven’t got a clue from this end of town, get the map out”.
Those who know me well-enough will realise that there is absolutely no chance that I will even glance at a map, as I see it an insult to my manliness. Protesting my point to him I said I’d rather get lost for hours than look at a map; this is particularly funny if/when you read on. “Oh we’ll make it up then” Aslan said smiling. “Cool, sounds like a plan” I announced, as we drove past the guild, making the “Beast roar” (tooting the horn) to innocent bystanders. Waving goodbye to the Howard Cohen Library, we sped down the road. “Which way?” Aslan squeaked as we arrived at our first cross-roads. “I dunno, how about right” I replied.

As we turned left we realised that our trip was missing one major part of its jigsaw (no, not the map). In unison, we both looked down at the radio and then looked at one another (no agreed this isn’t really safe when we’re driving down a random high street; something I pointed out to Aslan as we swerved round two cars, which had very inconsiderately decided to park on the edge of the road).

Aslan “I’ve got the new World Cup anthems CD on my i-pod if you’re interested”
Me “Oooooh sounds fantastic!”

Now we were set for our journey to properly begin.

Ten minutes down the road and hopelessly lost, Aslan finally realises where we are and informs me the Anfield “isn’t far”. Having not seen the stadium all year (due to aligning myself to the “scum-of-the-earth” as many Souse’s so fondly call it; Manchester United) I’m rather keen to go and visit – Aslan being a true gentleman obliges.

The only problem with this is as follows; Aslan THOUGHT he knew where he was instead of actually knowing. There is a difference, and this proved to be our fatal mistake. 20 minutes down the line, the atmosphere in the car was getting a bit tense, conversation had terminated minutes ago. We needed something to rein-vigour the road trip. Aslan also sensing the depressive mood replied only as lions can, “I’ve got a big England hat in the back if you’re bored”. What a genius that man is! Reaching for the hat I held it in front of my face in a kind of reverence; not as an idol, as this would be Biblically wrong, but as close as one could get. From deep within me I heard a voice commanding me and I was powerless to resist;

“Put it on”.

Crouching a bit so that the full magnificence of the hat could be seen by all passers by, I wound down fully the already half open window. Opening my mouth, I inhaled a large gulp of the fresh air. Suddenly without warning, I let out a scream at the top of my voice which to this day echoes around Merseyside; “ENG-ER-LAND”. Seizing on the moment, my fellow comrade also joined in with the chanting; World Cup fever was finally upon us. For the next 10 minutes it didn’t matter that we were totally lost, or that we had no idea where Anfield was; all that mattered was the beautiful game (football to all you heathens).

I have found that there is some truth in the fact that men seem to degenerate into a lesser form of beast when football is involved - though not marsupials of course; this is a lot of rubbish thrust upon us by a handful of scared scientists. The way I like to see it is as follows…

As testosterone, adrenaline and other manly hormones mix together, they form a deadly cocktail which courses through our veins (my medic friends will probably tell me that this isn’t true, but hey ho I don’t care).

Consequently this makes every man (and woman; been told that I am too sexist so I shall try and cut down on it a bit… honest) possess the beautiful notion that, by screaming at a television screen, or discussing tactics with their fellow ogres (felt wrong to call them men for some reason), they can change the outcome of a match. Simple thoughts like, “every time I walk out of the room someone seems to score” are quite funny if you actually think about them; it’s as if there are mini cameras in your living room, which the two teams watch; as soon as you get up to go and do your “business” (this I will leave to your imagination) they’re off. This is when the game actually begins.

For this very reason I love watching football with either women or very small men. Due to their size, or gender, they inevitably have to go to the bathroom at least once, usually twice, in a match. If you’re lucky you can plan it so that you get at least four or five people to go out during each half. As I have just justified, this makes the match far more interesting.

Whoa, where did that come from? No more tangents I promise; well not for this part at least. Where were we? Oh yeah, hopelessly lost in Liverpool. Let the journey continue…

Anyways, to cut a tediously long story short, after annoying many Scousers’, and driving round in metaphorical circles (as well as physical ones) we somehow stumbled across Anfield. And was it worth it? Without beating around the bush, for a change, it was rubbish; all you could see was the side of a building with the Liverpool football crest. I mean wow! How amazing is that? Quite downhearted I turned to Aslan and ask, more out of conformation, “Is that it?” “Yeah he replied, isn’t it fantastic”. Not one to crush false optimism I just smiled sweetly and changed the subject, something about the weather I think.

“You do know that Goodison Park’s just down the road don’t you?” Aslan said eagerly; this is the home football ground to all you women (and men) who didn’t already know. “Yay, we may as well go as we’re here now” I replied in my normal sarcastic way; needless to say this wasn’t picked up and after turning round Aslan informed me that it was only a mile north of Anfield. The only problem with this was that Aslan, though he didn’t admit it, didn’t actually know which way was north. Needless to say we never did find Goodison Park; though we took rather a scenic route back round towards the “right way home”.

Doodling down the road, no idea where were again – only that we were in Liverpool still (we could tell this by the purple wheelie bins) we began to get a bit worried. After passing a really cool Double-Decker bus, painted like St Georges cross, Aslan screams at the top of his voice “Finally, I know where we are, we’re nearly at the M62!!!” Elated by the news I start singing (can’t remember what, just that it was very bad) and start looking where we were going (in hindsight this might’ve been a good idea from the start). As we go over a set of crossroad, I do a double-take.

Me “Aslan, you sure you know where we’re going?”
Aslan “Course I do, its right down here”
Me “Well, I’m only asking because if you turn left here you’re at Bridge”
Aslan “Don’t be silly, that’s the other way. If that’s the way to Bridge, this (he points straight on) would be the way back to Halls.”

Feeling very smug with myself we turn into Greenbank car park. Aslan assures me that he now knows the way to the M62, and that finally, almost exactly an hour since we left my prison, we were going to leave Liverpool.

The Great Escape… part one

2006-06-14T15:07:00.000Z

This, to many of you, will remind you of an epic film where a handful of middle-class Englishmen managed to outwit the whole (rather dim-witted) German Army in one of the Great Wars. I think it was the Second World War, though don’t quote me on that; to be honest I’m not that bothered as we have the DVD at home and I can easily check at any time.

Anyway the main point is that we, the English nation, (note I did not say British, French or American), managed to hoodwink the Germans’ so much so that even a blind man was able to escape the so-called inescapable prison. Coupled with an unforgettable theme song, aptly named the “Great Escape”, this film couldn’t go wrong.

So why at this precise moment in time have I decided to remind you of this? Could this have something to do with the recent endemic that is “World Cup fever”?

Maybe you can see the parallels between the fact that the World Cup is being held in Germany (note to all women who read my Blog, if any; the World Cup IS being held in Germany, and no, I’m afraid I will not explain the offside rule), and that we, as a nation (if you are English), need to escape our “Choke-at-the-last-moment” attitude. Alternatively, maybe you can’t see this analogy.

To be honest, this is really inconsequential as, although football is important, I have a far more exciting tale to tell. This though isn’t for the faint-hearted; read ahead at your own risk.

The date, Thursday 8th June; the time, 12:05pm. As I looked out of my bedroom window in Liverpool for the last time, I look at how my life has changed in the past year. I’d settled into a new Church, made a great new set of friends, become a Hall Group leader for the Christian Union (granted, I am probably the most laid back and subsequently the worst leader there has ever been in the CU; but the way I look at it - every machine has a dodgy gear and therefore I am happy to fit this role). Lastly, one of my proudest feats was to become the Christian Union’s football captain, despite the fact that I can’t play football for toffee; this involved a lot of bribing and blackmail on my part – this I learnt from the Italian football directors at Juventus (note: this is a joke specifically to those who follow football, not a racist remark about the Italians; if you don’t understand, I frankly don’t care, but if you want me to explain it please ask in the comments section – not really worth it though). Anyway, whilst on a trip down memory lane, my phone went. Looking to see who the caller was I could feel my palms becoming sweaty; this was down to my nervous apprehension about what was about to unfold, not to the fact that I hadn’t moisturised my eczema-ridden hands. Looking at the screen on the phone, I could just make out the caller ID; “The Mighty Aslan”. To those of you who don’t know who “The Mighty Aslan” is let me explain oh so briefly; after all he’s practically a living legend. Anyways, Aslan, aka Jonnie Welford, is a good friend of mine from Liverpool University, studying some kind of Geography Management for chicken farming (I think, though my memory does fail me sometimes). He was dubbed “Aslan” because of his excessive hair which formed a kind of mane. Not sure who actually came up with the name (a prize for the person who tells me first), but it definitely stuck, and now, even though the mane has long been swept off of the barbers floor, the spirit that is Aslan lives on within him. He is quite candidly an example to us all.

In true form to his selfless and lion-hearted persona, Aslan had offered me and Ms Parsons (Cathy to most) a lift home WITH all our stuff. Unfortunately, Cathy couldn’t join in on our escapades. This was because she is a very resourceful lass and consequently managed to use her room as a metaphorical Mary Poppin’s bag; she seemed to have an endless supply of belongings. Regrettably, not even Aslan could match her packing abilities and had to, with a tearful expression and a dry throat, break the bad news to her. As he waved his fond farewells, she was left standing helpless at the doorway to Carnatic Halls, without any hope or meaning; despair ridden across her face (poetic licence has been used here; not all these things are accurate – just sound a bit better than the truth. In short, Cathy had too much stuff to fit in Aslan’s car so she altruistically declined his offer, for the good of the mission).

Anyway, back to the “Great Escape”. Where were we? Oh yeah, 12:05am, phone ringing, sweaty palms and the Mighty Aslan…

Tentatively I answered my phone.

Strange deep voice: “You ready?”
Me “Yeah, I think so”
Strange deep voice: “It’s on… I’ll be round in half an hour”
Me “Okay… bring on the road trip!”.

1¼ hours later, (lions aren’t known for their time keeping), Aslan arrived in what I can only describe as “The Beast”. As I stood open-mouth he turned to me casually and, noting my dumbfounded expression, smiled sweetly and said “it’s an XJ3000 Roadster”. Quickly coming to my senses I invited him in (there was no way I was going to let him sit in the beast whilst I collected my belongings from my flat) and between us we packed up the car; like true men this took several attempts to try and maximise the space, and consequently this left Aslan’s Didgeridoo dangerously positioned just behind the front passengers head. When I protested against this Aslan’s reply was, “Oh well, I’ll try not to brake hard… well not too often anyway”.

As Aslan reversed round to the front gate, (those unfamiliar with my previous accommodation I will let you in on a little secret… this used to be a prison; it had high-rise metal fences, with sharp pointy things on the end, and a magnetically-locked door and gate - the only way in and out was with a key, or the porters mercy), I walked round to the porter’s (I don’t have the right key for the big gate at the front; it was open earlier so we just Aslan just drove straight in) my heart sank. The porter was nowhere to be seen!! We were trapped indefinitely until the porter arrived. When I told Aslan of our predicament he just told me to try and force the gate open. I looked at him sceptically and thought to myself “they’re magnetically locked, there’s no chance they’ll budge”, but being the good Christian I am obliged to his, rather optimistic, request. As I approached the gate I could see that the left hand side of the gate was slightly ajar, so I tackled this side first. Glancing round quickly to check there was no one looking, I leaned back allowing my full weight to oppose the electromagnets holding the gate in place. With a shudder, slowly but surely the gates moved. Buoyed by this small victory I pulled harder and the gates creaked still louder (they were on hydraulic arms too) I managed to price the left hand side of the gate open. Triumphant and very pleased with myself I told Aslan to drive through the gap, so that we might escape and be on our way. His reply was quick and to the point, “I can’t fit this car through that gap, you’ll have to open the other gate too”. It felt as though all the air had been let out of my balloon. Humbly, and rather more quickly I pulled open the other gate and joined my companion in the beast. 1:40pm and we were off!

The roadtrip had finally begun…

42

2006-05-12T23:52:00.000Z

Taking a break from revision, (quite an extended one), I was trying to find something to do. Being a man of limited intelligence, I turned on the TV, only to find the answer to my problem; providence I think. Now before I go any further I want to make it clear then I do not and never will agree with gambling; however much you win. Anyway, browsing through the channels I came upon newest cult game-show around; no not Brainteaser on the inferior channel 5, (this channel does have its good points, for example “HOUSE”, and… well that’s it), but the World renowned “Deal or no Deal” on channel 4.

I mean what a show. The suspense, the drama, the beautiful audience participation; it really is a show for the family. The introduction on the Official Website really tells you the whole story: -

“Noel Edmonds hosts the British version of the worldwide smash game show where any one of 22 players could win up to £250,000. Does their sealed box contain hundreds of thousands of pounds? Or just pocket change? Guts and instinct are the key to success as Noel gives real people a real chance to win real money.”

Yes you did read that correctly… Noel Edmonds. At this point I must stop my endless ranting about the show to pay my respects to a truly great man. It doesn’t matter how much of a flop the show could’ve been, it is hosted by the man who brought you Mr Blobby, and because of this he has my ultimate respect. Therefore, if there was such thing as a perfect game-show, I think this is it.

At the end of the day, the money the contestant wins is irrelevant. The most important thing is the warm fuzzy feeling you get inside just by watching a little black box. There’s only one more thing I can say...

Deal!

Just for all you die-hard fans out there, my flatmate found a link to an American online version of the game, so it’s your lucky day folks…

http://www.fetchfido.co.uk/games/bankers-deal/bankers-deal.htm

Just a little sub note for you... i was left with $300 and $1,000,000. What would you do in my position?? Me, not being a gambler went on – after all no money is actually involved, therefore I’m not gambling. Can anyone match my superiority?

I think not! Send in your scores though, with proof (need a screenshot), so that I can draw up a hall of fame. Of course I’ll nullify my result so that it’s a competition again! Just the kind of revision break you needed; good luck!!

Take care

Daniel

Revision

2006-05-10T23:13:00.000Z

While trying to work, I thought I’d share the meaning of a few vital words of the English language; especially around the exam period.
Top five words…

1. Procrastination;

2. Monotony;

3. Ennui;

4. Escapism;

5. And of course; sloth (no idea why that’s there but couldn’t thing of another pointlessly long word describing the avoidance of revision).

I hope everyone is well and enjoying the festivities of revision; I’ve never seen the library so busy; though that may be because I’m rarely here other than exam time. Coincidence; I think not!

Take Care

Daniel

Rainbow Crew- "The Untold Story"

2006-05-03T13:58:00.000Z

Date: - 30th April;
Location: - Garston Bridge;
Mission: - RAINBOW CREW

On Saturday the 29th April I took part in the Christian Union footy team meal. Fun was had by all, and it was great to socialise with a group of people I had known for a whole season. We’d never had time to chat to properly, as we were generally too busy with a little piece of leather. Anyway, I got home at near midnight, and for fear of being turned into a pumpkin, I quickly went to bed (well after a couple of rounds of “GOLDENEYE” on our flats recently acquired N64). When I finally made it back to my room, I set my alarm for 8:30am; knowing that the next day would determine my purpose in life, as 30th April was rightly dubbed "Rainbow day” and I had been given the solemn privilege to lead out the crew with my freshly purchased red top. As I lie back in bed, vivid colours floated across the insides of my eyelids; contrary to popular belief I wasn’t stoned; it was the exhilaration of “Rainbow Sunday” that sent me off into my own world of Reds, yellows and blues (for those less adapt at the English language, this meant I fell asleep quickly).

As I stirred, I was suddenly aware of the lack of the annoying ring-tone I normally woke up to; surely I hadn’t woken up before my alarm again. I lay back thinking, just five more minutes… just before I went back to my land of colours, I rolled back over onto my side and glanced at my little free Lynx clock, (which can be found on my bedside table). I thought nothing of it and closed my eyes. Whilst trying to get back to sleep, the image of the clock came back into my mind; surely I had read the time wrong? Cautiously, I re-opened my eyes and peered back desperately at the clock.

10:25am

I was hit with a cold sweat and panic took over. Quickly I checked my phone to confirm my worst fear; I had slept through my alarm, (I still maintain it didn’t go off), and the momentous occasion of the Rainbow Crew was in jeopardy! Quickly, I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes and picked up my phone. Going through the menu, I found Mr Leonard’s name. As the phone buzzed I could hear my heart beating in time. What threw me even more was the fact that either Will had had some drastic surgery since the last time I had seen him, or this was not in fact will. Fortunately, it was Rachel, aka Ms Green. I explained my predicament and told here I’d be there as soon as humanly possible. With that I hung up and dashed into the shower, dashed out, (the water did hit me, as well as some soap of some description), and threw on my clothes. With that, I sprinted out of my flat, and out of the gate of the Railyard. Then I slowed to a walking pace; I’m not the fittest of people and I could feel my lungs burning. When I got to the bus stop, I had another phone call from Mr Leonard, telling me he had a substitution in mind if I couldn’t make it on time.

At this point there was no chance I would make it to church on time- it was 10:35am, (for those who don’t know Bridge starts at 10:45am). I told Will I’d get there as soon as possible, but that he might want to scout round for a replacement just in case. The bus still wasn’t here; then a sudden wave of inspiration hit me- I had some money left over from the night before and I could use this to get a taxi! Telling Will of my plan I hailed a cab, and like every good Blockbuster movie, told the Cabbie to, “Step on it, I’m late for the Rainbow”. Directing him to Bridge was fun; apparently he’s the only cabbie in Liverpool who doesn’t know where Smithdown road is, even though we were on it! As the cabbie pulled up I looked down at my phone; it was 10:46am, I was a minute late.

Quickly, I ran through the doors of Bridge, much to the consternation of the bouncers on the door. Remembering where I was I made my apologies and slowed down to a brisk walk. As I turned the corner, I wondered which row the crew had acquired, and whether I’d be able to see them. My fears however were quickly quashed when from the back of the Hall, the thing that stood out the most was this bright orange T-shirt worn by none-other than Mr William Leonard himself. What filled me with further joy was the fact that next to him, was a seat; my seat. Not waiting for the next hymn, I quickly ambled through the central isle of the church and took my place; the Rainbow was now complete.

I am aware that some of you heathens who read this do not know what the Rainbow crew actually is; so for those, here is a brief overview.

The basic plan was for seven people, (whom shall remain nameless due to copyright purposes and not the fact that I don’t know their names…honest), each to wear a different top, corresponding to the colours of the rainbow, and sit in a line. Due to the amazing foresight of our leader William, (mentioned his name as he doesn’t have the brain power to sue me, after all he studies maths), we were all able to sit together at Garston Bridge (local church, aka centre of the universe), as there coincidentally rows of seven seats. That’s pretty much it.

Quote of the day

From our honourable leader when asked about the whether:

“You’ve gotta expect the rain if you want a rainbow”.

Summery

For those who couldn’t be bothered to read all above (I know I wouldn’t have), I thought I’d write a quick summery.

The day was great, fun was had by all. I hope everybody had as much fun as I did!

Hope you are all well and good luck with all your exams!! I better do some work now; I’ve wasted a couple of hours.

Take Care

Daniel

EGYPT – Missing girl found in Muslim home

2006-04-04T21:40:00.000Z

Read the following. What would you do in this position? How would you feel?

Following a three-month search, an Egyptian Christian has discovered his missing sister living with a Muslim family near her hometown and professing faith in Islam.

Spurred by a brief telephone message from Theresa Ghattass Kamal that she was being held against her will and forced to convert to Islam, Sa'eed Ghattass Kamal last week tracked his sister's suspected captors to the Bedouin desert area of El-Ga'ar, near his home in Wadi El-Natroun, 50 miles north-west of Cairo.

Mo'atazz Mohammad Sa'eed at first refused to let Sa'eed see his sister when the Christian arrived at his home on 23 March. He later relented after Sa'eed insisted he just wanted to make sure his sister was safe.

With only her eyes showing through her veil and flanked by Sa'eed, his two brothers and his father, Theresa Kamal sat with her brother for 90 minutes but spoke only once, Sa'eed said.
"I have converted to Islam. I have found the right path," she reportedly told her brother in a trembling voice.

But according to Sa'eed and his lawyer, Athanasius William, the Christian woman's conversion still has not been registered at Cairo's Al-Azhar Islamic Centre.

Egyptian law requires that all conversions be registered at Al-Azhar and then validated with the security police, the State Security Investigation (SSI).

Mr William said Theresa, aged 19 years, had not fulfilled the legal prerequisite of meeting with a Coptic priest at least once before converting to Islam:

"If she really chose to convert to Islam, why did she not participate in the required counselling session?" the lawyer asked.

The attorney said that if Theresa's kidnappers attempted to register her conversion, he would contest the move on legal grounds. But in the meantime he said the 'collusion of the security authorities' was making it impossible to even verify whether the Christian woman dropped out of school at Cairo's Secretarial Academy of her own free will in order to live with the Sa'eed family.

Things like this really shock me; I know that there is persecution in the world but it still hits me hard when I read such a personal account.

“What must they have done to her?”
“What would I do; would I have cracked?”
“How are the family coping?”

These thoughts constantly parade themselves through the forefront of my mind. This only makes me feel worse about myself. We have all this freedom, all this influence in society; but what do we do with it? Do we proclaim Christ from the rafters or cower behind the nearest shelter? What must we do?

Please pray for Theresa Ghattass Kamal. Pray that the Lord would uplift her.

Yours in Christ

Daniel

Life’s about cr*p (guess the missing vowel)

2006-03-24T00:17:00.000Z

I don’t really have anything to say to my esteemed fans except that you should check out Ben’s wise words on his all NEW blog. (This will help you understand the title).

Take care

Daniel

Everywhere the wind blows

2006-03-15T02:05:00.000Z

After such a serious post, I thought everybody would want to make sure that this is in fact me, so I thought I'd tell you a little story to prove it.

Today, me and Patrick decided enough is enough and left our studies to go shopping in the Pool. First we stopped off for vital food rations; I had a kebab and Patrick had a burger. Then, we braced ourselves against the British storms. Over the past couple of days there has been snowstorms, sleet, sun (not much though!), and now driving rain; trust us to choose the harshest of these conditions – though we are men and therefore should be able to cope with anything throw our way. I won’t bore you of the details of our shopping exploits, though I will tell you about our “find of the day”.

When in Burtons, we found the chief amongst hats. Called the “Brown fur trapper” it stood out on the rail; inferior species like the “NY tweed flatcap” and “Khaki Camo Ny Cap” couldn’t match up to it’s prowess.

Patrick and I just stood there in awe staring at the “fur trapper” wondering whether or not we were worthy to place it on our heads. As the brief sunlight shined through the blonds onto the “fur trapper” we made up our minds; we were going to try on the hat. Nervously we took one each (there was only two left; coincidence; I think not) and placed them on our heads. It felt like a crown and we began parading round the shop, much to the consternation of the staff and respective customers; though did we care? No; they were all jealous of our superiority. After what seemed like a lifetime we reverently removed our crowns and set them down on their thrones. Finally our lives were complete; though we knew that we would never be worthy to own such a creation, so quickly we left, not looking back for fear of temptation or greed.

So the moral of the story?

“Don’t touch what you can’t afford”.

Hope you are all well.

Take care

Daniel

Three steps forward, not enough back

2006-03-12T01:44:00.000Z

If you forget to take a step back from life it can become dangerous; I had forgotten this until recently, and then I stepped back. Soon I realised how much I was getting caught up with the here-and-now of the world; and forgetting how much I have be focusing inwardly on my own wants and desires. Because of this, it has suddenly dawned on me how much I have been neglecting friends, family and God. Because of the here-and-now I haven’t bothered to get in contact with friends, in Liverpool or at home, as much as I ought, and there is no real excuse for this other than the fact that I am human, and because of this can be selfish, and to be frank a nasty piece of work.

That said we cannot use that as an excuse, as if we truly are Christians we are dead to our sinful nature; though I can feel mine frantically clutching onto my heel as I walk hand-in-hand with Christ; trying to grapple me back, desperate for me to feel sorry for it, bend down and help it up. As long as I cling onto Christ this won’t happen, though the thought terrifies me.

As regards my family, I saw them today for the first time since the Christmas holidays. Being with them today really brought back to me the life I have left behind at home; it reminded me of all the friends that I don’t speak to anymore, or am barely in contact with. For the first time in a long time I really wanted to go home. The familiarity and security is what I miss most; at home I have a place, at home I have a purpose. I am still trying to work out what my place and purpose is up here in Liverpool. I have met so many wonderful people, all amazing in their own right; and God has provided for my every need and more, but I don’t feel like I am truly at peace here; not yet.

As regards my focus on God, I am only thankful that He is a loving and patient God, who can forgive. I know that by his Grace, and his Grace alone, I have been saved, and that He will guide me through even the rockiest paths. Due to this I have a new found want for Him, and everything that He delights in; I cannot wait to serve God with my life. I have no idea what He wants me to do with it yet; but I’m sure He will make that apparent soon.

I urge you my brothers and sisters to also take a step back and reassess what you are doing with your lives; it is not until you really take the time to analyse your own thoughts, deeds and reasons that you really see where you are going wrong. But beware, we are all sinners and therefore every one of us can improve. So if you do take a step back, you may not like what you see; I know I didn’t.

On the Brink

Everyone, without exception, takes life for granted;
Until it’s too late.
Think of the days, weeks, months and years
Wasted doing nothing.
All the time you lay in bed for that extra five minutes
Could’ve been spent helping the poor
Or curing the sick.
We could make the blind see, or the cripple walk
If only we could be bothered.

But,
As we are, our human nature, our very personality
Battles against the thought of a selfless act,
Or a kind deed.
We are constantly at war,
If not with others, then with ourselves.

Do you know what it’s like
To entertain the thought of losing a loved one;
Someone in their prime of life.
Your very soul seems drained, the pit of your stomach
Empty.

You fell helpless, your words lifeless.
You pray that instead it was you, who was
Ill, beaten, cursed, laid aside, broken; neglected.
You’d rather die than see the life force drain from their eyes.
But,
All you can do is watch.

You could kind of understand if they had done something wrong,
Something to deserve it.
But,
An innocent child;
One yet to experience the trials and tribulations and life,
To delve into the realms of love or even have a child;
What have they done to deserve such a future?

Look at it from their perspective. The thought of your life ending,
When it’s only just begun.
The thought of leaving the people you love.
You’ve planned so many tings to see,
So many things to do
But,
There is no time.

What can be done?

I have found that if you take a step backwards,
You get to see the tapestry of life
From a different perspective;
Instead of seeing the individual threads
You get a view of the completed masterpiece.
Self-pity tails into a downward spiral
One sympathetic look at yourself leads to another,
And another.
It becomes harder and harder to see things as they are
And easier and easier to blame others for your depression.

You need to be proactive when it comes to life.
You can either wait for it to grab you by the feet
Or you can dive right in.

But remember to step back every once in a while
So that you can view the tapestry,
Therefore ensuing that the meaning is not lost;
For what’s the point of a tapestry
If you can’t see the meaning behind it.

Take Care and God Bless

Daniel

The proverbial snowman

2006-03-03T21:36:00.000Z

On an evening in early March, the bitter wind lashed across my face, and white rain clung to every crevice of my clothing. Soon I was unrecognisable; a proverbial snowman. As I trudged against the piercing gale, my vision became blurred and my feet uncertain. Only a littler further I told myself; I’m nearly back to the safety of my dwelling where a hot mug of hot chocolate awaited me (well actually tea but that just didn’t sound right).

Suddenly, on my left came a cackle. Tentatively I turned my head, only to see a ball of ice whistle past my ear; I was under attack by three scallies. Automatically I took up my fighting stance, ready to retaliate with full force; for those who haven’t seen this it is a scary site- though it doesn’t happen often (generally involves a large volume of Lucozade being consumed beforehand). Anyway, getting back to the action, as another barrage of snowballs came towards me I dodged two out of three matrix styli and caught the other. The cackles were cut short when I propelled the snowball in my hand at the nearest scally. It caught him across the chest and he fell down. The other two looked at me – sheer hatred in their eyes. They reloaded and sped towards me. I smiled to myself, “I can take em” I thought to myself. The only problem was that it was late, there were three of them, and I was cold. So, being the Christian I am, I let them have throw one more barrage, all of which pitifully missed, laughed at them in the most condescending way I could think of, and walk hastily in the opposite direction.

Needless to say, I made it back okay, and have lived to tell the tale. I’m so glad that God made snow, it’s so fun!!!

Anyway, the kettles boiled so I’m off for my “hot Chocolate”.

Take Care and God Bless

Daniel

Mighty, Mighty Rankin!

2006-03-02T13:47:00.000Z

Some of you may remember an earlier post which encompassed my views on Small Group leading for the Christian Union (if you do I will be very impressed; not many people remember anything I write and therefore this would make a pleasant change). If not let me refresh your memories:

"At the end of the term, I was asked by one of my hall group leaders whether I wanted to pick up the reins as regards hall group leading. At first this really did appeal to me, as it would give me more time to study God’s word and to really devout some time to Him. However, after really praying about it, I decided that I should focus my time and efforts elsewhere. This was a really tough decision, as I wanted to make sure that I was doing what God had told me, not what I wanted to do. Another complication was the fact that if I did accept the responsibility of Hall group leading, I wouldn’t be able to move into a house; something which was really set on my heart...more details on housing explained below.Anyway, that’s really all there was to it; some hard praying, some peoples opinions and some more praying. If I’m honest I still can’t believe I’m not doing it, but for now I think it’s the right decision; though who knows what the future will bring!!”

Well like I said, who knows what the future brings! God in all his wisdom decided not to let me get off of the hook that easily and last night I went to my first SLOB’s- “Small-group leaders’ only Bible studies”. For all of you, (whom I could probably count on one finger as my site isn’t, contrary to popular belief that popular) who don’t know what SLOB’s is, I will give you a quick summery: - extra Bible classes for Small group leaders.

If you hadn’t already guessed have actually decided to become a Small Group leader in Rankin Hall next year; this meant that I had to leave my original group in town, which was gutting, as I have some really good friends there. However, I realised that it was the Lord’s will for me to be in Rankin, so I am excited about the future; only He knows what will happen.

That’s really all I had to say; not as thought provoking as other posts I know but hey I’m only human… will update in the near (ish) future. Until then,

Take Care and God Bless

Daniel

Finding Neverland

2006-02-21T22:06:00.000Z

Burst the Bubble

2006-02-03T00:57:00.001Z

With Mission Week fast approaching, it has suddenly dawned on me how our lives are sheltered in a constant bubble, where everyone is centred on their particular lives.

I don’t just mean “everyone” in a general sense, I mean “everyone” in an all-inclusive sense; and yes, I mean me too.

At first I wondered why this is; why do we all have our own egocentric ideals? It has been troubling me for sometime how I keep finding that my personal problems are at the centre of my heart, and that other, more important things are sidetracked or pushed to one side. I often offer prayer and counsel to others who seek it, (and many for those that don’t), but at the end of the day I still find time to dwell on my problems instead of taking my own advice. Why cant I just forget about my problems and, as Matthew Ch6v25 clearly says:

“Therefore I tell you do not worry about your life, what you eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more important than food, and the body more important than clothes?”

I think everyone who reads this is probably a Christian. Even if this isn’t the case, let me challenge you. Why do we find things that we are directly involved in more important than things that happen around the World, all of which are far worse? You think of the recent Earthquakes, Tsunamis and Terrorist threats; you think of racism, persecution and poverty. Who can honestly tell me they don’t value their own problems above these?

Before you all think I’ve gone completely insane let me justify myself. We all think that the events around the world are awful and want to help in anyway we can, but when we roll over in bed at night are we thinking about the World’s poverty? When we call up a friend for advice, is it on how we can use our own privileged lives to help those less fortunate, or is it about something a little bit closer to home. If you can honestly say that you value other peoples problems more than your own then you are a better man/women than me; though I would challenge you again if you told me this. If you do value others more than your on problems, and I mean sincerely, what are you doing about it? I mean I do try and help people with all of my heart, and will do anything for anyone, but I still find that I have to sort out my own problems too; I can’t just leave them. Until they are sorted I find it hard focusing on anything else.

In spite of this there is hope for us all. Because of Christ’s sacrifice for us on the cross we no longer have to live by the rules of this world. We are no longer bound by sin. I know that this problem is part of our sinful nature and that we will never be rid of it. We must fight it though, we must try and do what is best for others first and then ourselves; even if it takes us outside of our bubble. I am not asking you to go on a one-man crusade to right the wrongs of this world, as ultimately you will fail. This world isn’t perfect anymore, and because of this greed and power runs deep through the core of the planet.

So instead of offering money, offer your prayers and time into those who are less fortunate than you. This doesn’t mean just the underprivileged; it means all of those who don’t know Christ as their one true Saviour. I have found over the last couple of weeks that however improbable something may seem, it is never impossible.

I hope I haven’t freaked everyone out. If so, I’m actually not that bothered! After all it isn’t my problem anymore.

Take care and God Bless

Daniel

How many eggs does it take to make an omelette??

2006-01-18T12:33:00.000Z

Although I wasn’t expecting to post anything for a while, as I seem to been posting a lot more than is healthy, I couldn’t resist this opportunity. Well here goes, Cathy if you’re reading this you might want to close your eyes…

The date was January 17th 2006; her mission, if she chose to accept it, was to come up with a culinary masterpiece, both edible and good to look at. For someone of her catering ability, this should be child’s-play, because rumour has it she knows how to cook everything… well everything except custard (what’s with that?!?).

The chosen environment to perform this precarious task was my delightfully clean (for a change), humble abode; the result was something that will live with me for the rest of my life… and what’s more haunt my dreams.

To try and describe this work of art to you simply wouldn’t do it justice, therefore I took a picture!! Oh if you’re wondering what this is, it is in fact an omelette. Don’t believe me? Ask Cathy (please!).

And if this wasn’t enough, just to really rub a bit of salt into the wound, mine came off first time; that’s right, mine was round (not a cylinder!). But don’t worry Cathy, it happens to the best of people, oh and by the looks of it, it happened to you too!

Finally, to answer my own question, it took 9 eggs to make two omelettes; that’s 4½ per omelette!! I’m now fresh out of eggs… though it was worth it!!

Bring on the pancakes!!!

Daniel

Umbrellas down

2006-01-16T22:54:00.001Z

Dancing in the rain

Traditionally, as a fully fledged Englishman, my natural reaction is to loath the rain. It is world renowned that England is by far the wettest country, (bar Scotland), and that we, as true patriots to our nation, constantly complain about how unfair it is that we have to suffer the constant pitter-patter heard against the window for large portions of the year.

It’s not that we have a problem with the wet stuff, after all it is just water, but the fact that everything tends to get wet, no matter how hard we try to use umbrellas and other implements, seems to dampen (excuse the unintentional pun) our spirits some what.

However, today was a new revelation for me. I found myself questioning my own Englishness; as for one of the few times in my life I walked in the rain; and what’s more I loved every minute of it. Yes I got drenched to the skin, and was close to getting hypothermia, but I suddenly realised that it was actually quite refreshing, and contrary to my previous delusion, the air is actually fresher when it rains. It’s like everything has been washed away, ready for a new beginning. All the grime of the streets washed away into the gutters, never to be seen again. Even the harsh bite of the rain against my face didn’t put me off, as I was fascinated by how quickly small streams turned into great and mighty rivers, crashing against the sides of the alleyway.

By this point you’re probably think that I’m going a bit senile, perhaps even more than normal, but remember that rain is another one of God’s creations. Whilst rain may be considered a nuisance, it reminded me in some strange way of Jesus’ love for us. The fact that all the dirt and filth was washed away, and the path was left gleaming reminded me of how Jesus has washed away our sins, leaving us pure in God’s sight. It just astonishes me how something so potential annoying can remind me of how much Jesus loves us.

Daniel

Makes my head hurt

2006-01-16T17:12:00.000Z

I have no idea why I put this on here, but hey it saved me from actually doing some work; so it can't all be bad. Stare at the dot in the centre of the picture... then move towards the screen focusing on the dot. (the picture should spin)...

Daniel

Hmmm...

2006-01-16T16:52:00.000Z

Here's something to tease your little brains

i cdnuolt blveiee taht I cluod aulaclty uesdnatnrd waht I was rdanieg. The phaonmneal pweor of the hmuan mnid, aoccdrnig to a rscheearch at Cmabrigde Uinervtisy, it dseno't mtaetr in waht oerdr the ltteres in a wrod are, the olny iproamtnt tihng is taht the frsit and lsat ltteer be in the rghit pclae.The rset can be a taotl mses and you can sitll raed it whotuit a pboerlm. Tihs is bcuseae the huamn mnid deos not raed ervey lteter by istlef, but the wrod as a wlohe.

How amazing God is to make our minds work in such a bizarre way!

Daniel

Back by popular demand

2006-01-15T23:21:00.000Z

I’m still alive; if you count living in Liverpool!

After two months, I thought that it might be a good idea to post another message on here- otherwise people will be wondering what had actually become of me (well one person would anyway- I don’t have that many friends; if any).

Well I suppose you’ll all be wondering what I have been up to, and to tell the truth I’ve experienced a plethora of new experiences, all of which are legal and moral; many I do not have (or choose not to make) the time for. So sorry, you’ll have to do with my usual ramblings. I will though tell you about a few main points…

Hall Group leading

At the end of the term, I was asked by one of my hall group leaders whether I wanted to pick up the reins as regards hall group leading. At first this really did appeal to me, as it would give me more time to study God’s word and to really devout some time to Him. However, after really praying about it, I decided that I should focus my time and efforts elsewhere. This was a really tough decision, as I wanted to make sure that I was doing what God had told me, not what I wanted to do. Another complication was the fact that if I did accept the responsibility of Hall group leading, I wouldn’t be able to move into a house; something which was really set on my heart...more details on housing explained below.

Anyway, that’s really all there was to it; some hard praying, some peoples opinions and some more praying. If I’m honest I still can’t believe I’m not doing it, but for now I think it’s the right decision; though who knows what the future will bring!!

Home for Christmas

This Christmas I had a great time at home. Although it was hard adjusting to the different pace of lifestyle (things move at the speed of light at home), although I soon got used to the fact there was no washing, cleaning or cooking to do! It was really good coming home and spending time with my family and friends; I hadn’t realised how much I had missed home. At Uni, you don’t have the chance to stop or think, so I don’t normally get homesick, however, by the same token I really do appreciate and cherish the friends and family I’ve got back home. Whoa that’s so cheesy. What I meant was, I enjoyed my Christmas and enjoyed the fellowship that went with it.

Housing (as promised)

Today was the first time that I finally met all of my potential future housemates for next year. I was a bit apprehensive because I’m new to all this stuff, but I was amazed how much God was in control of even that. He seems to be providing everything for me at the moment which is amazing. We had a good afternoon together and, God willing, are looking at a potential house on Tuesday; all very exciting!!

Anyway, I think I’ve rambled enough; I will try and post something else before March just so that you k now I’m still in one piece. Take care everyone and if I don’t have the time to post before; HAPPY EASTER.

Daniel

House Party

2005-11-28T14:04:00.000Z

Well well well...

My first CU House Party is over and I can honestly say that I was amazed how much I learned throughout the weekend. It wasn’t the fact that I thought I learnt a lot form the talks (although I did!), but what overwhelmed me the most was the way God worked though the people in the CU; He was the true focus of the weekend. I can only say that I feel blessed to be apart of it.

You could clearly see how different people added their own contribution to weekend and God used their gifts to benefit everyone. I was so thankful to God that I was able to create some really good friendships as well as build on others. This has been one of requests to God recently and He still blesses me with all kinds of gifts, none of which I deserve.

Anyway, enough about me!! How is everybody else?? For those who are at home it would be good to hear from you at some point, but if not don’t worry; I’ll tell you off when I get back – three weeks time!! Until then I bid you all my blessings and love

Your Brother in Christ

Daniel

I'm not sexist... honest!!

2005-11-24T01:57:00.000Z

Another picture, courtesy of Andrew (don't shoot the messenger!!).

Enjoy!!

Human mind control...

How time flies!!!!

2005-11-24T01:51:00.001Z

Hello all...

I've just realised that it's been just under a month since I last wrote anything on this so again I thought that it might be a good idea to update it a little bit lol. I am really starting to feel at home now and have made some really good friends. I'm sorry that this won't be that long, it's 2am (well 10:30pm for mum), and I'm really tired!! One thing which is cool is that CU house party is coming up on Friday, so I'll try and write another one of these after that so that you can all hear about how much fun I'm having away form home. I miss you all at home, and please keep prying for me. Anyway, I'll leave you with a poem; God Bless.

The Spirit

The fire is stoked
No putting it out
I feel it burning inside of me
Desperate to escape
I cannot contain it.

First there was a spark
Now it’s an inferno
My veins are ablaze with passion
At last I am not afraid

I am dead to the world
Yet alive in Christ

My hearts desire
Is to know you more
Show me the path
And I will follow

Forever…

Picture this...

2005-11-24T01:40:00.000Z

I had just bought some new clothes and trainers, they looked so cool; cost a fortune though! Thought I’d better wear them to show them off to my mates. I was there for class on time; went to the back and took my seat. Yeah, I'm moving up, I'm already grown. Soon I'll be graduating, and out on my own. I can’t wait, free at last! I talked to some of my friends, we were all having fun. Though I said a few things I shouldn't have. Also, I did stuff I shouldn't have done. I knew I was different... I felt God touch my heart, I knew I should set a standard, But then I'd be set apart. I didn’t want to stand out; after all they’d laugh at me. Walking to the bus, my MP3 player started skipping; damn thing I should really get it fixed.

Then…

I heard the car tires screeching, but it was too late.

I'm standing in this room, and I can see the heavenly gate... Oh no! I forgot to pray! I thought I had time later, you know after footy!

An angel walked to me, He had a book in his hand. I knew it was the Book of Life; when would this dream end? I told him my name, and he began to look. Then he looked at me sadly and said,

"Your name is not in this book".

“Angel, this is a dream, No, I can't be dead!”

He closed the book and turned away, He whispered,

“You cannot proceed ahead”.

No...This can't be real, Angel, you can't turn me away.

“Let me talk to God, maybe he'll let me stay”.

He led me to the gate, and Jesus came to me. He did not let me in but said,

“Beloved what is your need?”

“Jesus, I cried, please, don’t cast me away from you.”

Tears ran down his face as he said,

“You knew what you needed to do.”

“Lord, please I'm young; I never thought I would die... I thought I'd have plenty of time, Death caught me by surprise. Lord, I went to church, please Jesus, I believe.”

He said you would not accept me, my love you would not receive.

“Lord, there were too many hypocrites. They weren't being true.”

He took a step back and asked,

"What does that have to do with you?"

“Lord, my family claimed to be saved, they weren't real… You know.”

He said,

"I died for you, now I have to go.”

I fell to my knees crying to Him,

“Lord; I planned to be real tomorrow.”

I couldn't make Him understand, I had never felt such sorrow. Then it hit me hard, I said,

“Lord, where will I go?”

He looked into my eyes and said,

“My child you already know.”

“Please Jesus, I begged, not there, anywhere but there; I’ll do anything you say, anything.”

It seemed to trouble and grieve him, He whispered,

“DEPART FROM ME, I KNOW YOU NOT.”

“Lord, you're supposed to be love, how can you send me to damnation?”

He replied,

“With your mouth you said you loved me, but each day you rejected my salvation.”

With that in an instant, Day turned into night. I never knew such torture could be; now too late, I know the Bible is right. If I can tell you anything, Hell has no age. It is a place of torture, Separated from God and full of rage and malice. You know, I thought it was funny, a joke, But this one thing is true. If you never accept Jesus Christ, HELL IS WAITING FOR YOU! So please, I beg you, ask Him into your heart.

Thought I better write something, so here goes...

2005-10-29T23:20:00.000Z

I just thought I better keep people updated with what I've been up to so... here goes lol. My lovely sister is round for the weekend at the moment which is cool- we've had a really cool time, but haven't actually done anything; it's just good to catch up. One thing I did find strange was the merging of my old life at home and my new one here- they feel so separate that you don't expect them to collide together. I'm having a really good time at Uni at the moment; people are really friendly and there's plenty to keep me occupied. God has blessed me with some really good friends here. It's so amazing how God can put people together who have nothing in common other than a love in him.

I felt like I had slightly out of place at home over the past six months (though I miss it a lot, especially my family and friends); this was largely due to the fact that I'm getting older and don't like it, but I can definitely say that God wanted me to come to Liverpool and he has blessed me with all kinds of things. My course hasn't been too taxing and although it isn't exactly medicine, it is quite interesting and the lighter workload allows me to throw myself into things that God want me to do. I have started attending Garston Bridge Church which is really good and has a solid Bible based teaching. The CU is brilliant and this takes up both Monday (small groups) and Wednesdays (main meetings), as well as football on Saturday mornings. I'm also hoping to get involved at a kids club at Bridge - all depends on whether I pass my CRB!! So prayer for that would be appreciated.

Right, I think it's time for some prayer points, probably best to list them....

1. That God would keep me safe and healthy (managed to avoid the Fresher's flu!!);
2. The God would help me grow spiritually and that my relationship with him would deepen;
3.That I build up good relationships with the people at the CU and on my course, so that I can start feeling at home;
4. That I don't fall into temptation and study God's word daily (very hard with such a hectic life, but is essential!!);
5. That I glorify God by being here, and don't miss home too much.

Anyway, I better go. It would be good to hear from you all at some time. Leave me a comment. Email me, text me, ring me, write whatever. Until we meet again.

God Bless

Daniel

Reassurance

2005-10-29T23:12:00.000Z

Another cool poem sent to me by a good friend when I was a bit down! Again, enjoy.

When I start to doubt your plan for me,
If it contradicts reality,
Lord help me trust and hope in you
For all your promises must come true.
If everything I’ve learned is wrong,
And the shortcut Father seems too long,
Help me see you up ahead
Marking out the steps I’ll tread.
In everything the answers prayer
I’ll leave my cares and worries there,
In the hands of you above,
Who’ll guide my life with constant Love.

Dawn

2005-10-29T23:09:00.000Z

A cool poem I found in "My documents"- thought I'd share lol

The world is black, tarnished with sin
Every crevice, every sinew is manifested with no hope.
It tastes like the bitter leaves of Sorrel.
The sonorous echoes of torture sound like a thundering horn
All around, in this secular society
Sedition reigns, seldom stopping to think, or breathe.

Selfish ambition segregates right from wrong.
The miscarriage of justice is like a scorpion’s sting;
It is all too common for the unwary; the ill-prepared.

The Sacramental wine has been spilt
Yet it is not forgotten.

For the victory is won
And the oppressor is living on borrowed time
Trumpets will sound the coming of a new era
As sure as the dawn approaches
This wicked regime will fall.
The oppressed become the oppressor
And righteous judgement reigns from on high.

For He is just;
Our sin will be paid for
And his wrath will fall on those who resist him
Only the equipped will survive.
I pray to God that you are ready.

Women!!

2005-10-25T23:08:00.000Z

This is for all the men out there- and women don't blame me!! I got these from Andrew Parsons so tell him off. Don't shoot the messenger...

Something to think about

2005-10-24T17:35:00.000Z

Something to think about

In light of the many perversions and jokes we send to one another for a laugh, this is a little different: This is not intended to be a joke, it's not funny, it's intended to get you thinking.

Billy Graham's daughter was interviewed on the Early Show and Jane Clayson asked her "How could God let something like this happen?" (regarding the attacks on Sept. 11).

Anne Graham gave an extremely profound and insightful response. She said "I believe God is deeply saddened by this, just as we are, but for years we've been telling God to get out of our schools, to get out of our government and to get out of our lives.

And being the gentleman He is, I believe He has calmly backed out. How can we expect God to give us His blessing and His protection if we demand He leave us alone?"

In light of recent events...terrorists attack, school shootings, etc. I think it started when Madeleine Murray O'Hare (she was murdered, her body found recently) complained she didn't want prayer in our schools, and we said OK.

Then someone said you better not read the Bible in school the Bible says thou shalt not kill, thou shalt not steal, and love your neighbour as yourself. And we said OK.

Then Dr. Benjamin Spock said we shouldn't spank our children when they misbehave because their little personalities would be warped and we might damage their self-esteem (Dr. Spock's son committed suicide). We said an expert should know what he's talking about. And we said OK.

Now we're asking ourselves why our children have no conscience, why they don't know right from wrong, and why it doesn't bother them to kill strangers, their classmates, and themselves.

Probably, if we think about it long and hard enough, we can figure it out. I think it has a great deal to do with "WE REAP WHAT WE SOW."

Funny how simple it is for people to trash God and then wonder why the world's going to hell. Funny how we believe what the newspapers say, but question what the Bible says.

Funny how you can send 'jokes' through e-mail and they spread like wildfire but when you start sending messages regarding the Lord, people think twice about sharing.

Funny how lewd, crude, vulgar and obscene articles pass freely through cyberspace, but public discussion of God is suppressed in the school and workplace.

Are you laughing?

Well hello there!

2005-10-24T17:14:00.000Z

Well hello everybody!!

As you can see I have started my very own "web thingy". Please feel free to write any comments cos I'd love to hear from you all. I'll try and keep this updated, but anyone who knows me knows that this is probably very unlikely!!

Anyway take care and God Bless

Daniel

1 Timothy 4:12 (NIV)

"Don't let anyone look down on you because you are young, but set an example for the believers in speech, in life, in love, in faith and in purity."