Uni

Thursday, September 28, 2006

Ok, this blog is well overdue of a post. I'm sorry! I've just been too busy getting jiggy with it and getting down with the dawgs, you know? Ayee!

Anyway, I'm at college now! I haven't died yet. My room is nice and big and pretty (I still need to bother taking a picture. Its very beautiful though, I assure you. Pastelly.) and you should all come see me and swoon over how cool it is.

I've been having a bangin time - I've only fallen asleep in two lectures so far, so am very pleased with myself. The lectures are really interesting really, I love them. So far.

I'm trying to save all my supreme writing power for my essays now, so this post is bitty and unstructured. I'm going to fob you all off with some photos now, to distract you from this shoddy writing. Haha! I bet you're all fooled.


This is Rob and Matt. Rob hates this photo and squealed when he realized it was on here. We're in Nandos being gluttenous. It tasted good. I'm currenty sewing a tie onto a hat of Rob's. Hello Rob! Rob uses Firefox. So should you.


This is Matt and Amy. You can tell from this picture that Matt is a very intelligent man. Amy is American and taught me and Rob to crochet. We're very bad, but she's very good.


This is Danny. I think this is another Nandos photo. He ordered his meal extra hot and nearly died, because he thought hot meant warm. It amused me. Hello Danny!

This is Matt again. I'm not obsessed, I swear, he just wanders into alot of photos. Accidently. Yeah.


And this is Henna (Also Matt.) being lovely. Yay for Henna!

This is Jake. Jake is related to LISSY MULLER! I only found that out yesterday and its very exciting. Jake uses Opera and washes up.

I'm sure I have something more interesting to write but I forgot it. I'm off now, to continue raving it up bible college style. Innit!

Sunday, September 17, 2006

You know how cute baby animals are? How they warm your heart with their innocence and adorable stupidity? Like this baby bat, for example.


Makes you feel warm and fuzzy, doesn't it? It's so tiny and small, and needs so much love just to stay alive.

Speaking of staying alive, the baby bat that flew into my windscreen a few hours ago definitely is not. I know this because of the baby bat blood all over my car.

I am a very bad person.

Thursday, September 14, 2006

I went to York and attempted to be arty with photos in the minster. Someone really needs to help me with my camera settings some day.




I've decided I want to follow in the footsteps of my great uncle and preach there, mainly because its just so pretty. Did you know my great uncle was the first non conformist preacher to preach in there? I do come from a good family line...

I also saw some really funny tourists that amused me no end. Check them out in their traditional British attire...


A kilt, a union jack tshirt AND burberry. Respecta!

I also have sad news. Fergus died in a tragic puppet massacre. It was all over the news.

Don't be sad though, because I have a brand spankin new lover! I don't know his name yet - he's the strong but silent type, you know? - but we're practically engaged.

Sunday, September 10, 2006

Come to this table, not because you must, but because you may.

When I'm invited to take communion, I have a choice to make.

The thing is, I often think little of it. I used to say no without bothering to think about it - I didn't see it as important. I didn't want to stand up infront of my friends, or heaven forbid, push past them on the way to the aisle! I presumed I'd take it someday, but I had little idea why. It wasn't relevant to me. I wasn't bothered or concerned.

Nowadays, I'm more guilty of saying yes without realizing quite what I'm saying yes to. I go through the motions, but the weight and importance of what I'm receiving doesn't occur to me. I swallow the bread and drink the wine, and have no idea of the significance of what I've done. I walk back to my seat and I'm the same person who stood up a few minutes before.

Communion is a bigger choice than that. Choosing to say yes to the invitation is saying yes to going deeper with God. It's saying yes, I need you Jesus. It's saying thanks for the wonder of being able to be close to the Father. It's going back into the world, knowing that you're called.

Communion is a huge deal.

Come, not to testify that you are righteous, but that your sincerely love our Lord Jesus Christ and long to be his true disciples.
Come, not because you are strong but because you are weak; not because you have any claim on heaven's rewards, but because in your weakness and sin you stand in constant need of heaven's mercy and help.

I need God desperately. I especially need forgiveness.

I can't get rid of the guilt of sin myself; I need Jesus to wash me clean. I can't be free of my shackles unless my Master cuts me free. I can't resist temptation unless the Spirit strengthens me. I certainly can't love my neighbour without Christ's example. There's very little, if anything, that I can do in my own strength. I desperately need God.

There's a beatiful hymn written by Annie Hawks that goes:

"I need Thee, O I need Thee;
Every hour I need Thee;
O bless me now, my Savior,
I come to Thee."

And its true. I need God every day, every hour, every minute. I can't live the life I was created to live on my own, not even close. Without God, I crumble and fall. I am weak, I am a sinner. I need grace, I need mercy, I need forgiveness. I need my Savior. I need him now; not sometime in the distant future, but now. There's an urgency in the need.

I need God whether life is bearable or whether I'm walking through the valley of the shadow of death. Even if life is easy on the outside, I still need Christ. I'm far from perfect - the more I know, the more I realize that I know very little indeed. God hasn't finished work in me yet. I'm still very much under construction.

I was on the edge of my seat today from the moment I saw the communion table. I knew I needed forgiveness, I knew I needed God's healing power in my life. I itched with impatience to chew the bread and accept the sacrifice Jesus made so that I could be forgiven. I needed communion. When I was given my bread, I chewed it knowing that I needed it. I needed Christ. I needed forgiveness and I needed God to come through for me.

I need thee every hour, my Lord.

Here you will find others just like you and together we shall meet our God in Jesus Christ as he gives himself to us in mercy, forgiveness, call, challenge and the promise of his presence with us always. Come.

As we drink wine, we are reminded that we can now be close to God - the sin that separated us from God has been ripped away. The veil that stopped us being close to the Creator of the heavens and the earth has been lifted. We can approach the eternal throne, feeling no shame!

That image astounds me. When I imagine God's throne room, it's always very grand. The throne is always huge, and I can't quite look at it straight, for God is so mighty, pure and beautiful. I try and imagine approaching it, and I can't - I don't deserve to look, to go near it.

But God has removed all the barriers that stop that - my guilt, my fear and my pride. He adopts me as a daughter into his royal family and clothes me in robes of righteousness divine. I can approach the throne, knowing that God wants me there! I am not intruding on holy ground. He has been seeking me, fighting for me since before the earth began. God even reduced himself to human flesh - the immortal mystery, in a baby! - just to find me. I am wanted, desperately. I can approach the eternal throne not fearing condemnation because God wants me. God wants me! God thinks that without me, his world wouldn't be the same. I am essential in his plan for creation.

It astounds me that God chooses to want, to seek, to need people like me. God didn't create me because he needed company, like you might purchase a puppy as a companion. God had all of his relational needs met in the trinity; he wasn't lonely! God created me because he imagined me, and he fell in love with me. He designed every part of my body in detail and didn't make mistakes. He planned out my days before I was born, weaving me into the tapestry of his story. No one else could fill my role in God's story. I was designed for the role I needed to play; I wasn't a mistake.

I need God to come through for me though, if I want to live this life. I need him desperately, every moment, every hour. God is good, and I need him.

And that's what I think about when I take communion.

Saturday, September 09, 2006

I painted some £3 shoes from Shoezone!

Its just acrylic paint I got on sale in WH Smiths. I wish I was actually arty, then I could have really had some fun. I'm not varnishing them, I think they'll be fairly waterproof - I'll just stay out of puddles.

They're fairly uneven. I guess its my own fault for doing one shoe, and then the other a few days later - if anyone else has a go, don't do that!

Comments? =]

Friday, September 08, 2006

This post is dedicated to my sin of choice: sloth!

Sloths are just generally cool. Check out this cool customer. Innit.


Sloths are cute and cuddly and lovable. I want one as a pet, or at least stuffed, so I can hug it and love it as my own. Just look at this baby one. Awww...

Its so squishy, and heart warming. I want it.

You can also get EMO SLOTHS! Seriously, just look. You can tell this little guy has a deviantart.


I love sloths. I do, I do.

Wednesday, September 06, 2006

I was ashamed of my last post - I kept on thinking, "What if that's the first post anyone ever reads of this blog? My precious reputation will be ruined!" so I'm writing more. Lucky you!

There's some times and places where you really don't want strangers to talk to you. Now don't get me wrong, I talk to alot of strangers, and get into alot of trouble because of it. My friends will testify to this. But even I have some limits to my personal space, and one of these places is the gym.

Now unless I've come with someone else especially, I don't talk to people at the gym. I put on my iPod and jog away into the non existant sunset. I enjoy watching people, I just don't like interacting with them. Gym time is me time.

Obviously not everyone shares my views on this subject, because I'm constantly being pestered by strangers. There's one man inparticular, a middle aged lothario who is always smiling at girls in the mirror. This does my head in. He's creepy. When you're sweating away on the cross trainer, the last thing you need is a topless man flexing his buttocks behind you. Its foul. And when I gave up and moved to another machine, he'd follow me. I haven't seen him for a while - I presume he's in jail.

There's another gym rat who insists on correcting me all the time. By gym rat I mean one of the men who seem to go to the gym 8 hours a day. They have muscles bigger than anything you've seen on Baywatch and battle away with the weights constantly, reaching some sort of sick endorphin fuelled deliruium when they reach the heaviest. They get this huge toothy, manic smile on their face by the end of the workout, and its pretty creepy. Most of them seem dead inside.

This particular gym rat obviously is not entirely dead though, because he's taken it upon himself to help me whenever possible. I realize its good of him to share his wisdom with us lesser folk, but its quite intimidating sometimes to open your eyes and find him grinning infront of you saying, "Adjust your seat height! Here, let me help you!" and reaching towards your seat, which is inevitably too close to my crotch for comfort.

I am a competitive cow in the gym. I always have to run for longer than whoever is next to me, and if I can't, I spent hours guilt tripping and justifying myself. "She may have jogged more than me, but I bet she wasn't here yesterday. And probably not tomorrow either. Aha! Pwnd." Really, I'm a very bad person.

I can cope with all of this, but the changing rooms are another matter. The other day I was innocently unpacking my bag into a locker when a half clothed lady walked up to me and said, "Wow! You smell good! What perfume do you wear?"

Now, let me assure you I didn't smell that good. I hadn't even put perfume on that day - I still had some on me from the day before, but that was mixed in with sweat. I needed a shower, and my hair had alot of build up of general hair gunk in it. I wasn't my normal ravishing self, by any way, shape, smell or means. I didn't want this woman to smell me.

"Erm... vanilla. I think. Yes."
"Where from? How much does it cost? What brand?" said the phychotic woman.

Now there'll be a scary phychotic half naked woman walking around my home town smelling of me. I shouldn't have told her. I also forgot the punchline of this story. Darn it.

I'm going to watch more Futurama now. The Professor just taught the toaster to feel love, and it licked Bender. It was awesome.

Wednesday, September 06, 2006

I am being forced at virtual gunpoint by Matthew to blog. You may notice this in the general quality of writing and tone of the post. He wants to steal all my readership by mooching off the fact that I pity his puny blog and will link him. Some day he will learn.

I have just woke up. I drove Emily to the airport this morning at 3.30am, so drove for 7 hours on three hours sleep. I felt ok at the time until I was practically home - when I burst into tears when a "sad Avril Lavigne song" came on shuffle, I knew I needed to get into bed with a bucket of ice cream. Now. I also cried on webcam randomly - I am sorry about that incident to the people involved.

Right now, I've just woken up from an afternoon of unintentional napping. I fell asleep with my laptop buzzing merrily beside me, so am boiling. My virtual lover took over half the bed too, so I'm quite stiff.

Speaking of my love (my laptop, before any of you jump to conclusions...) it displayed a peach screen of death the other day. I think it was a shade off the graphic on my desktop - which is actually, handily for you, the same graphic used in this blog layout. It also displayed the regular blue screen of death the night before. If any of you want to have a go at diagnosing my laptop - she's called Jasmine Keziah, by the way - please do. Unless its "HAHAHHA YOU SHOULD HAVE PURCHASED AN APPLE! FOO!" If so, go away.

COME BACK HOME EMILY!

I'm going to sleep more now, and think about going downstairs for that bucket of ice cream. Peace out.

Oh! And I have like 5 blog posts on the go. Decent ones, I hope. I haven't deserted you, my pretties. Do not fear.