This is why a caffeine-deprived person should never toss around game ideas for their first-grade Bible class...
HOLLY: So what should we do for a game?
ME: Um...baptism! We're talking about Nicodemus, so we could do something with baptism.
ME: When I was a kid, we liked playing games with teams.
HOLLY: We haven't done that yet; that's a good idea.
ME: So we give each team a bowl of water...that they don't touch...ever...and we put a toy guy in each bowl of water and ask the kids trivia questions. And when one of the teams gets the most right, we put their figurine under the water so...whoever gets their guy baptized first...wins...
HOLLY: (the most polite expression of silent doubt)
ME: Of course, if they equated that with drowning, we'd have problems.
For those of you who are concerned, we later were inspired with the idea of having them just move little Nicodemuses down spaces on a board when they answered the questions right.
But...always drink your quota of coffee, or...yeah...
When you are able to ignore every part of you that is beautiful.
You are afraid…
When you perceive perfection as courage.
You are depressed…
When you forget friendships reward self-sacrifice.
You are different…
When you refuse to smile at the strangers who are so much like you.
You are alone…
When you believe you are inadequate for impacting your world.
“Be Yourself. Everybody else is already taken.” - Oscar Wilde
Those who find ugly meanings in beautiful things are corrupt without being charming. This is a fault.
Those who find beautiful meanings in beautiful things are the cultivated. For these there is hope.
They are the elect to whom beautiful things mean only Beauty.
- Oscar Wilde
Let these words be the promise of the first deep breath that begins to guide your spirit every morning, and the peace of the sigh that settles your soul every night.
When you first start going up, you can still see the houses, all lined up next to each other, or winding around to create orderly circles. From up here, even amongst the soft-looking circles of grass and bare ground, the houses don’t look out of place. They don’t seem chaotic, or even synthetic; it’s like they belong there, like they’re just another part of the pattern. The tidy roofs in the circles of houses gleam as brightly as the beads on an elaborate Indian costume, surrounded by suede-like splotches of green and brown. The world looks as simple and small as a native’s historical dress, stuck behind the window of the plane instead of the glass of a museum display.
When you fly higher, the separate sections of dirt and grass start becoming bare outlines of simple shapes, with those complex, shrinking houses still scattered in between them. By now, the roofs look like little shards of glass, molded into the mosaic of a masterpiece.
Then, you get too high to even see the houses. All you dimly see are those fading green and brown regions of the earth. Somehow, they seem scattered amidst the blueness of previously unseen water. The paleness of the land’s now-diluted colors makes the land shapes look like clouds floating in a second sky. That’s when the entire world, every bit of it, just seems like extra clouds, wafting below and away…
After that, you pop up above the clouds; it’s like being in a sea of age-old snow, churned up by thousands of previous planes and left still and perfect just for you. But soon, your own plane pierces through the thick snow, slicing it into thin vapors that roll away so you can see the world again. The greenery glistens under golden rays. Even the sunlight seems to be below you. Just how high have you come? How long can you stay?
Faith is a bluebird you see from afar,
It's as sure and as real as the first evening star;
You can't touch it, or buy it, or wrap it up tight;
But it's there just the same, making things turn out right.
(From Disney's, The Rescuers)