Here's some of the poems, stories, ect; I wrote. . .mostly in high school.
For the Smoke of a Thousand Villages
As he (David Livingstone) stood on the deck of the vessel that was to lead him to Algoa, a dream was growing in his mind. His open Bible was laid before him as he dreamed–dreamed of exploring an entire continent for Christ. He thought of the time a few weeks earlier he had told his dad goodbye never to meet again until the earth gives up her dead. “David, David,” the words of the ship captain awoke him from his daydream. He knew if he was ever to accomplish his goal, he must be prepared. The ship captain showed him how to find exactly where the ship was on the pathless ocean. “I shall need this knowledge to guide me across the pathless deserts and jungles of Africa,” David said.
Livingstone did not know and would not have cared that his name would be written in history books two hundred years later as the one who discovered on million square miles. It did not matter to him that he would be hailed the first white man to ever set his eyes on Victoria Falls. As he stood there with the cool breeze off the ocean blowing into his face, the words of Moffat (the missionary he was to join, and whose daughter he would marry) traveled again and again through his head: “I have seen sometimes in the morning sun the smoke of a thousand villages, where no missionary has ever been.”
“That is the reason,” he thought, “why I am doing this, and that is the reason why I am determined to open up this continent for the gospel or perish.”
Drink to Your Health
The trip we were embarking on to Wisconsin was becoming tiring. Staying up until 12:00 for 3 consecutive days was taking its toll on me. We pulled into the gas station. I left the vehicle and purchased a capuccino. I really like capuccinos. I didn’t really care if it was good for me or not–I was tired, I needed the energy, and it tasted very good. But that one cup of coffee was truly good for me and it is for you. Not just because it’s my opinion, but because it’s the view countless scientists share around the globe.
There have been many heated studies debating the issue of coffee’s medicine. Out of the studies has arisen much conclusive evidence that coffee can actually be good for a person’s health. A team of Tohoku University in Japan conducted a study on about 61,000 adults that concluded that people who drink more than a cup of coffee a day are less likely to develop liver cancer than those who don’t. Consider this: Green coffee beans contain about 1,000 antioxidants and the brewing process adds 300 more. These antioxidants neutralize errant molecules known as free radicals–the same free radicals that cause premature agin, cardiovascular disease, degenerative brain disorders, cancer, cataracts, the decline of the immune and nervous systems, and more.
O.K., by now you’re probably thinking, “Well haven’t we been told all along that caffeine is bad for us.” Yes and no. According to the University of Athens and the Harokopio University it is–in excess. Researchers there found that drinking coffee in excess increases the chances of cardiovascular inflammation. But that’s more than one cup of coffee a day; but just one cup a day is good for a person’s health. So lighten up, coffee’s good. Now it can be abused like everything else. It shouldn’t be your only source of liquids. It needs to be done in moderation. So next time you feel the need to drink a frappe, latte, cappucino, or just plain black coffee. Go for it, it’s good for you, and don’t forget those delicious drinks are beans–just like those beans your mom used to force you to eat as a child.
Love and Loyalty–The Story of Eyelee
“Rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr,” the two dogs sunk their teeth and claws into each others hide. The battle for the envied lead dog position had begun. Neither Tess nor Nyda knew the significance of the mission they were fighting to lead–a mission to save Nome’s children from the deadly clutches of the most awful diptheria. Tess bit Nyda in the leg; Nyda opened up her jaws and struck in retaliation, missing Tess’ eye by an inch. Soon blood was gushing out of the wounds scattered across both their bodies. This was no frisky dog play, this was a war to the end–”win or die.” Those words echoed slower and slower in Tess’ head, slowly fading, until they couldn’t be heard any more even in the distance. Tess tried to fight this strange sleep that had gripped him, but to no avail. The life had left his body.
Four days later, Nyda stood at the front of the dog team. As he panted, under the harness he was so determined to wear, a gash on his neck was burning. Quitting never crossed his mind–it wouldn’t. Pride engulfed him. Pride that he didn’t realize would trip him up, because before a fall is pride and in every humble heart is a treasure. Posing quietly three rows back, stood a mutt dog. All the others being purebred Alaskan Malamutes, Eyelee stood out like a black crow hunting on white snow. Her coloring of jet black, contrasted by sand gray, and splotched with sky marble caught the eye as gauche. Eyelee never allowed her pattern of life–sleep, eat musch, sleep, eat much–to be interrupted by petty competitions between her fellow mush-mates. She never crossed Nyda as a threat. Of course, right now being lead dog didn’t seem so glamorous and kingly as it had before. Matter of fact, he wasn’t even thinking about that right now. Survival was the only thing on his mind. He was fixed on it like an Olympian on his gold metal. But the farther and farther he ran, the odds of him winning the prize of survival seemed less and less. A sharp pain shot threw his legs and burned. He tried to shake off the pain and press on, but to no avail. Suddenly as if concrete had hit his head, Nyda fell and hit the ground in a deafening thud. All of the other dogs were thrown forward, twisted and caught in the gangline. Tom Seskimo, the man riding the sled, rushed to Nyda, and tried to convince himself everything was fine, but it wasn’t. Resting his hands on Nyda’s chest, Tom felt a catastrophe–no pulse. Nyda was dead; some of Nome’s children may die too if Tom doesn’t get there on time. Tom tried to keep his composure, but the longer he stared at the thermometer (-50 F) the harder it was.
“Serum could freeze at that temperature. Sitting here isn’t going to help,” he thought to himself. In desperation, he gently set Nyda’s limp body to the side. He then rearranged the dogs, giving Eyelee the lead. There was something in her that caused Tom to choose her for this critical mission–maybe her devotion and dedication to humans. Nobody really knows. Eyelee’s eye caught the Northern Lights, and she hearkened to the word hike. One giant leap and she was off. Tom breathed in some fresh, crisp air in a sigh of relief that Eylee had obeyed commands she had been told the meaning of only once.
Eyelee continued to much into the dusky night. Soon her paws stopped mushing into the weighty snow and began sliding over the slick ice–Norton Sound. It was the hardest part of the race–so close to Nome, but so far. The ice bubbled and the cracks spread beneath her paws, till her booties were soaked, but Eyelee endured without fearful thought or hesitation. Twelve hours later, she heard the word she most longed to hear, “Whoa.” Her claws gripped the snow and Tom Seskimo ran into Dr. Nange’s office, silently praying that the serum had miraculously stayed liquid. It was with great relief that Dr. Nange pulled the serum out of the fir-covered box and told Seskimo it was still good. Seskimo formed a slight smile and asked Dr. Nange if he knew of a place to board his dogs. As soon as he had said the word dog, Mayor Freskasko knocked on the door.
“Come in,” the doctor hollered.
“Hey, Tom Seskimo,” he welcomed the musher, “is the serum good?”
“Yes, Doctor says so,” was Tom’s reply.
“Oh, thank you.”
“Well, don’t thank . Thank the dogs. Do you have a place I could board them?”
“Yes, at Nome Elementary School.”
“Thank you, I need to be going, the dogs are very hungry.”
As soon as Eyelee walked into the school gym, she slept. She awoke as a hero. All of the country hailed her as the one who saved human lives. Her picture and story were printed and reprinted in newspapers across America.
When Eylee passed away at the ripe old age of twelve, her obituary was published around the country. Nome’s Daily Nugget reported that “we lost a dog whose body was as small as th head of an average snowman, but whose heart was as big as the Alaskan sky.”
I was cleaning my room the other day and found a bunch of old random stuff that I wrote (no judging the grammar, this was before my college days.) I thought they would be fun to post on my blog. . . So, here’s the first one
Puffhead the II
Her name would be Puffhead II, I decided, in succession to Puffhead I. Pufhead I became chicken soup–Puffhead II was to replace her. When she was set in my 10 year old arms, I knew immediately she was the chicken for me. The white “puff” on her head was equal in size to her adorable little black body. Soon the II was dropped off her name, and she became known as Puffhead.
When she grew up, I promised that nobody would ever put her on the butchering block. My brother demanded I pay a fee for the food she ate, but I in turn demanded pay for each egg Puffhead laid. It was settled–five cents per egg, the food would be measured, and then priced.
Puffhead got along well with the other chickens, until cannibalism broke out. Being at the bottom of the pecking order, her head feathers were pecked out until her head bled. It was simple–I would differ Puffhead a new home. Even after she moved out, I worried her head would always remain bare. My fears dissipated one day when my brother ran into the house, with the chicken, and excitedly showed me how her head had quickly grown its beautiful, white feathers back. As I rubbed her hands through her soft, clean feathers; I thought, “Hey if God cares about every sparrow, why shouldn’t I care about a chicken?”
The Beauty of a Flower
Flowers have such a beautiful smell
Each one with a different color
Red, orange, blue, purple, pink, green, and yellow
Blooming in the heat of summer.
They come in so many different designs
Each one so lovely
They seem to say “Hi”
They were made for you and me
Next time you see a flower
Take time to enjoy it
Because it doesn’t take a hour
To see the beauty behind all of this
Remember Him
O my soul, when you are cast down
God is good–remember
O may thy hope in Him be found
And this help He will send
And when thou art disquieted
Find his life anew
Remember what Jesus has said
I will never leave you.
And when thou take your final flight
Remember Jesus died
That all who would might have his life
Forever–no dying
Freedom is
Remembering others and
Envisioning liberty while
Everyone is
Doing good and
Opening up their heart and land to
Meek and needy people
Your life is only a vapor
A clock ticking away
Will you wish you had done something
To brighten someone’s day.
Life,
A vapor,
Gone.
Will it have meaning
Will it brighten someone’s day.
Tire Blow-out
I was on my way to work one morning when I noticed something very strange was happening to my truck. As I shifted, the truck pulled back. “Man this thing is stubborn,” I thought. By the time I got out onto the highway, i knew something was terribly wrong. My seat shook, my steering shoock; the whole truck shook violently. It was as if I was riding a wild bull. I told myself just ignore it, keep driving. Suddenly, everything felt better. I mean the truck still pulled, but the shaking was gone. When I shut the ignition off at my destination, got out of the car, and shut the door; something told me to look at my tires. “Oh my goodness–my tire–it’s just gone.” All of a sudden the problem became clear. So there was a cause to the shaking: my tire was flat. The shaking stopping signaled that my tire had blown off. The moral of the story–to every problem there is a cause.
One Day
I woke up this morning wondering how
I could testify of God’s awesome love
I thought that to God in prayer I would bow
And declare of his great heaven above
I tried to help one wounded soul today
Touch them with the strength of his confidence
And point them to the Lord’s heavenly way
Tell them that this crazy world can make sense.
So I ended that day contemplating
How one person could let their light so shine
A great eternal difference making
With a life that lasts such a short time
For the only thing that really matters
Is how much, we have done to serve others
The Vapor
Your live is only a vapor
The clock is ticking away for you
Will you have wished you had done more
More to make this life of some use
When you pass through deaths dark, cold door
Will you wish for a life anew.
The Seasons
The rain in springtime
Reminds me of God’s
New life He gives
The seas in the summer
Remind me of the joy and beauty in God
The golden trees in Autumn
Remind me of how
God is an anchor and gives rest
The snow and mountains in winter
Remind of God’s
Rest and strength
And the season’s changing
Reminds me that God never does.
Snow
A blanket of snow
Comes out, us to show
God’s gracious and clean hand
All acrossed His land
Every snowflake
Differently made
A gift from heaven
To this low earth sent
So now come and blow
Oh beautiful snow
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