Sometimes on Sunday, tired of writing from the rest of the week, I like to mess around with photos I've taken in days past. That's something I did today. Here are a few images I'm pretty pleased with that I made today. Aren't they fun?
Sometimes I'll write about my job, sometimes about my faith, sometimes about my hobbies, talents, miscellaneous interests. You'll see.
Showing posts with label Sunday. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Sunday. Show all posts
14 September 2008
Photoshop Phun
Sometimes on Sunday, tired of writing from the rest of the week, I like to mess around with photos I've taken in days past. That's something I did today. Here are a few images I'm pretty pleased with that I made today. Aren't they fun?
06 July 2008
Same Sunday School
This morning I slept in and missed the Roanoke 1st ward meetings, which start at 9:00. I guess it's fortunate in a way not to be living near my home ward while I'm in school because it really does mess up my sleeping schedule. I went to the Salem ward at 11:30 without guilty feelings, well not too bad. I did feel bad when the girl I give rides to showed up at 8:45 and I woke up to her knocking. Fortunately she was fine with going at 11:30 too.
Curiously, although the two wards are in the same stake, the Salem ward is a week behind on their Sunday School lesson. So we got the same lesson we had last week. But of course this was fine. It always is, somehow. This teacher didn't cover some of the topics that were covered last week and covered some that weren't. But even in the cases when the same topic was covered, there was a different light that opened in my mind, and such that pertained to my life at the moment. Fascinating how the study of the scriptures can do that, isn't it?
One of those things that pertains to my life at this time actually came up again later this evening when I was talking with my little brother on the phone. I moaned about the possibilities of having to deal with "people's certain freedoms" as pertains to their writing. Maybe I said "freeness" I don't remember. But I was getting at the nuisance that their being too free and easy with their language and situations.
My brother reminded me that people died so we could have those freedoms in this country, and my response was that I just wish they didn't have to subject me to their freedoms. Interestingly this reminded me of the subject of the people in Ammonihah that Alma and Amulek taught who were burned for their beliefs. This was one of the subjects taught both weeks. Why did the Lord allow them to be burned? Because He had to allow the wicked to exercise their free agency.
For some reason, I hadn't put the two together that that might be simply a good enough reason that I have to endure reading through people's profane and blasphemous use of language--and that I feel bad not because I'm being condemned for reading it and need to stop them from doing it, but because sin really does make other people feel bad. That's why it's sin. But God can't take away their agency.
On the other hand, I also know that sometimes people sin--act contrary to the will of God--because they don't know better. And so I don't think it's entirely out of place to let people know they are hurting you. Alma and Amulek did tell the wicked people beforehand that they were being wicked--and some of them even repented--those who were burned, unfortunately. Not everything has a happy earth-life ending. But there does come a certain point when you just have to say like Jacob in another part of the Book of Mormon--well, rearranging the tense effectually--that he's saying or said the things he said to remove the blood from his cloak and once his job is done, it's done--the blood isn't on his cloak any more, and he has to let them do what they'll do.
Though I do feel some kind of torture at times for my religious beliefs--not just putting up with profanity (there's actually more to this story than I'm telling here, so you don't think I'm exaggerating something that doesn't seem like persecution to you, though even if there weren't more--it still is painful to read God's name taken so brutally so often, as well as the other words. I really HATE it--as long as I'm digressing I'll just mention this funny thing I thought of today while I was talking with my new LDS friend that I take to Church. We were both complaining about people's bad language and other use in things we have to read, and she mentioned the offense someone took to her decision not to read their script, and I said, "How funny that the first offender is offended when you told him he was successful--Profanity is meant to offend, and he did it. She laughed. I thought it was funny, too, not to pat my own back. I might have heard from someone else once). Anyway, so as I was listing the persecutions, which isn't entirely unrighteous. In the D&C there's a section where the Lord commands the people to list the offenses. And so, I'll say, it also terribly rankles me when people insinuate that I'm not a Christian because I'm Mormon, and when people make me feel like I'm too goody-goody--they know other Mormons who wouldn't be bothered, or they're Mormons and they're not bothered. I hate that too. And then there's others who think I'm not goody-goody enough. And granted, I'm not perfect in these areas either, so it's helpful to write them out and become mindful of my own bad judgment habits.
In any case, what I was really getting to in this is that it's all really nothing, absolutely NOTHING, compared to the things many others have suffered, such as the martyrs in Alma and Amulek's time, or the early Saints, as I just mentioned who were commanded to write their grievances. I've never been physically beaten or killed for my beliefs. And in fact, I'm very grateful for the Church and the good it does for me. I can't even tell you how nice it felt today to be in Church, among fellow Saints, even if I didn't know them very well. I'm very blessed for the knowledge I do have of my Savior and of the gospel He has re-established on the Earth today through Joseph Smith. What tremendous blessings to have temples on the Earth now, to be able to take the sacrament every week, to have a loving family. Life really is pretty good for me.
Curiously, although the two wards are in the same stake, the Salem ward is a week behind on their Sunday School lesson. So we got the same lesson we had last week. But of course this was fine. It always is, somehow. This teacher didn't cover some of the topics that were covered last week and covered some that weren't. But even in the cases when the same topic was covered, there was a different light that opened in my mind, and such that pertained to my life at the moment. Fascinating how the study of the scriptures can do that, isn't it?
One of those things that pertains to my life at this time actually came up again later this evening when I was talking with my little brother on the phone. I moaned about the possibilities of having to deal with "people's certain freedoms" as pertains to their writing. Maybe I said "freeness" I don't remember. But I was getting at the nuisance that their being too free and easy with their language and situations.
My brother reminded me that people died so we could have those freedoms in this country, and my response was that I just wish they didn't have to subject me to their freedoms. Interestingly this reminded me of the subject of the people in Ammonihah that Alma and Amulek taught who were burned for their beliefs. This was one of the subjects taught both weeks. Why did the Lord allow them to be burned? Because He had to allow the wicked to exercise their free agency.
For some reason, I hadn't put the two together that that might be simply a good enough reason that I have to endure reading through people's profane and blasphemous use of language--and that I feel bad not because I'm being condemned for reading it and need to stop them from doing it, but because sin really does make other people feel bad. That's why it's sin. But God can't take away their agency.
On the other hand, I also know that sometimes people sin--act contrary to the will of God--because they don't know better. And so I don't think it's entirely out of place to let people know they are hurting you. Alma and Amulek did tell the wicked people beforehand that they were being wicked--and some of them even repented--those who were burned, unfortunately. Not everything has a happy earth-life ending. But there does come a certain point when you just have to say like Jacob in another part of the Book of Mormon--well, rearranging the tense effectually--that he's saying or said the things he said to remove the blood from his cloak and once his job is done, it's done--the blood isn't on his cloak any more, and he has to let them do what they'll do.
Though I do feel some kind of torture at times for my religious beliefs--not just putting up with profanity (there's actually more to this story than I'm telling here, so you don't think I'm exaggerating something that doesn't seem like persecution to you, though even if there weren't more--it still is painful to read God's name taken so brutally so often, as well as the other words. I really HATE it--as long as I'm digressing I'll just mention this funny thing I thought of today while I was talking with my new LDS friend that I take to Church. We were both complaining about people's bad language and other use in things we have to read, and she mentioned the offense someone took to her decision not to read their script, and I said, "How funny that the first offender is offended when you told him he was successful--Profanity is meant to offend, and he did it. She laughed. I thought it was funny, too, not to pat my own back. I might have heard from someone else once). Anyway, so as I was listing the persecutions, which isn't entirely unrighteous. In the D&C there's a section where the Lord commands the people to list the offenses. And so, I'll say, it also terribly rankles me when people insinuate that I'm not a Christian because I'm Mormon, and when people make me feel like I'm too goody-goody--they know other Mormons who wouldn't be bothered, or they're Mormons and they're not bothered. I hate that too. And then there's others who think I'm not goody-goody enough. And granted, I'm not perfect in these areas either, so it's helpful to write them out and become mindful of my own bad judgment habits.
In any case, what I was really getting to in this is that it's all really nothing, absolutely NOTHING, compared to the things many others have suffered, such as the martyrs in Alma and Amulek's time, or the early Saints, as I just mentioned who were commanded to write their grievances. I've never been physically beaten or killed for my beliefs. And in fact, I'm very grateful for the Church and the good it does for me. I can't even tell you how nice it felt today to be in Church, among fellow Saints, even if I didn't know them very well. I'm very blessed for the knowledge I do have of my Savior and of the gospel He has re-established on the Earth today through Joseph Smith. What tremendous blessings to have temples on the Earth now, to be able to take the sacrament every week, to have a loving family. Life really is pretty good for me.
29 June 2008
Saturday is a Special Day
I never thought I'd enjoy doing laundry as much as I did yesterday, or cleaning my room, but they were both quite welcome reprieves from the rest of the week.
I'd been noticing for the past few days the building wreckage around my room, but was particularly bothered by it yesterday, seeing five empty water bottles scattered around, countless books, both to read and notebooks, my bag askew with school folders, and three pairs of shoes, along with papers from my thesis with comments from my advisor scattered in three different, disheveled piles, and then a pile of potential decorations for the Francelia Butler conference. Though not so in the middle of things, I also had a full moving box of dirty colored clothes (my temporary hamper) and a bulging bag of whites. These bedrooms aren't big. I had to navigate my way to the door to go down to eat breakfast. My mother would be ashamed.
As I look around now, it's not a whole lot better, but I really did straighten up. I refilled all of the water bottles and they're now neatly in the box for the reading lamp I bought, right beside my little desk. Nice organization. I straightened the stacks of thesis papers, though they're still in three locations. At least they look nicer. Nice organization. And the books, well, I finally returned some to the library--maybe that was Friday actually, and then some others back to the shelves downstairs. The rest, including the decoration stuff, shoved perfectly under the bed. And I threw the shoes in the closet--although somehow two of them seem to have walked out again and are scattered around the room again. Hmm. They're with their pairs anyway.
And laundry--so fun to have an excuse to have an excuse to break up the day with trips outside, then to fold the pretty colors and hang them in the closet or stuff into drawers. You know I love colors. Nice organization.
But the best part was baking some zucchini bread--or cake--didn't have a bread pan so I used a flimsy cheap-o cake pan, which was good actually since I had two zucchinis and doubled the recipe. And that was in preparation for a fun picnic with MaryLiz and Dorina and her family. We went up to a little park I didn't know about, on a little hill (I suppose they might call it a mountain here--and it did remind me of home a bit with the evergreens and everything)--with a reservoir. A really cute place, nice and cool, too. Most of the time we were there, it was quiet too--away from the rest of the world. We walked around the reservoir a little--not all the way around, it was pretty big, but around a bend. So peaceful. I wish I'd taken my camera, but I seem to forget it at important times lately.
Like the song goes, Saturday is a special day--not just because it helps get ready for Sunday, though that too, but because it's another day away from the rest of the week.
I'd been noticing for the past few days the building wreckage around my room, but was particularly bothered by it yesterday, seeing five empty water bottles scattered around, countless books, both to read and notebooks, my bag askew with school folders, and three pairs of shoes, along with papers from my thesis with comments from my advisor scattered in three different, disheveled piles, and then a pile of potential decorations for the Francelia Butler conference. Though not so in the middle of things, I also had a full moving box of dirty colored clothes (my temporary hamper) and a bulging bag of whites. These bedrooms aren't big. I had to navigate my way to the door to go down to eat breakfast. My mother would be ashamed.
As I look around now, it's not a whole lot better, but I really did straighten up. I refilled all of the water bottles and they're now neatly in the box for the reading lamp I bought, right beside my little desk. Nice organization. I straightened the stacks of thesis papers, though they're still in three locations. At least they look nicer. Nice organization. And the books, well, I finally returned some to the library--maybe that was Friday actually, and then some others back to the shelves downstairs. The rest, including the decoration stuff, shoved perfectly under the bed. And I threw the shoes in the closet--although somehow two of them seem to have walked out again and are scattered around the room again. Hmm. They're with their pairs anyway.
And laundry--so fun to have an excuse to have an excuse to break up the day with trips outside, then to fold the pretty colors and hang them in the closet or stuff into drawers. You know I love colors. Nice organization.
But the best part was baking some zucchini bread--or cake--didn't have a bread pan so I used a flimsy cheap-o cake pan, which was good actually since I had two zucchinis and doubled the recipe. And that was in preparation for a fun picnic with MaryLiz and Dorina and her family. We went up to a little park I didn't know about, on a little hill (I suppose they might call it a mountain here--and it did remind me of home a bit with the evergreens and everything)--with a reservoir. A really cute place, nice and cool, too. Most of the time we were there, it was quiet too--away from the rest of the world. We walked around the reservoir a little--not all the way around, it was pretty big, but around a bend. So peaceful. I wish I'd taken my camera, but I seem to forget it at important times lately.
Like the song goes, Saturday is a special day--not just because it helps get ready for Sunday, though that too, but because it's another day away from the rest of the week.
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