Echoes in the wind

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

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

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

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

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

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

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?