God’s Desire

God’s glory is seen in the clouds,

His love is seen in the sky.

With love he created fruit, sweet to eat and good for nourishment.

You cannot deny the love and care he has for his creation.

The Lord Almighty is thinking of me.

He expresses his love every day.

With grace he generously gives all that he has to offer.

How much can I receive?

The Heavens never run out of blessings.

They are available for all to partake.

If we know that they are ours, are we bold enough to ask for them?

Please come, he wants to give it to you.

You are his desire.

Clouds

Who is mankind?

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Do people really believe that mankind evolved from apes?

Do you believe that your ancestors are animals that have never built cities, worn clothes, or debated mathematical theories? Is it easier to believe that we came about through happenstance than to believe God when He tells us that he deliberately designed us on purpose?

No, scientists say that the universe *exploded* into existence.

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They say that it wasn’t meticulously designed, engineered, and built by an intelligent creator.

How does a people forget who they are? From whom they descended?
God said that He created us in his image. Why do we not take God’s word? Why do we deny it? What is it about our self-inflicted insecurities that causes us to back away from the open arms of our Father? As if we were unworthy.

I have a question. What defined the distinction between apes that “evolved into humans” and apes that did not? Do modern apes now discriminate and turn up their noses away from the genetic mutation that caused mankind to excel above them in every way?

primate family tree
“Primate Family Tree” courtesy of The Smithsonian Museum of Natural History.

Note that scientists haven’t found a “transition” species between primates and humans because it doesn’t exist.

I doubt that apes, or monkeys, or gerbils believe that we are related to them. Mankind has dominion over the animals and the animals know this. They wonder why their master is destroying itself from within rather than taking control and maintaining their God-instilled rule.

God created every living thing. Mankind (human beings, male and female) is the only living thing that God made like Himself.
First God made animals.
Then God made man.
They were two separate, deliberate, creations.

And God said, “Let the land produce living creatures according to their kinds: the livestock, the creatures that move along the ground, and the wild animals, each according to its kind.” And it was so. God made the wild animals according to their kinds, the livestock according to their kinds, and all the creatures that move along the ground according to their kinds. And God saw that it was good.
Then God said, “Let us make mankind in our image, in our likeness, so that they may rule over the fish in the sea and the birds in the sky, over the livestock and all the wild animals, and over all the creatures that move along the ground.”
So God created mankind in his own image, in the image of God he created them; male and female he created them.
God blessed them and said to them, “Be fruitful and increase in number; fill the earth and subdue it. Rule over the fish in the sea and the birds in the sky and over every living creature that moves on the ground.”

Genesis 1:24-28

Oops

Leave it to a writing contest to completely turn me off from writing for a solid 4 months.

To those of you who missed me, I apologize.  To those who were happy I was gone, I apologize.

This may have been one of the greatest failures of my writing career. However, from every failure comes a learning opportunity.  Now I know to never attempt to write a novel when I have no story line, plot, or remote intention to publish a book.  I did come up with some good story ideas, however.  I suspect that the beloved Raezana, Se’Quasha and Ricardo will one day have their full stories told.  If I decide to continue writing during next year’s NaNoWriMo, apparently not a lot of progress should be expected.

Yet, there will be some entertainment to be had.

Should I Give Up?

Five days in to NaNoWriMo, I was burned out.  I was tired, stressed out, anxious, and felt chained to my computer.  Every moment that I didn’t spend writing was full of guilt and self-doubt.  Why did I think it would be fun to impulse-write a novel?  2,000 words per day?  What was I thinking?  I normally write a 300-word blog post once or twice a week, if that.  So where were these 50,000 extra words going to come from?

For the first couple of days of NaNoWriMo, I did okay.  I had some momentum from writing a tight prologue to my novel the day before the contest officially began.  The next day, I hyped myself up by perusing the message boards on nanowrimo.org and conversing with other participants.

Then, I hit a wall.  As I started to run out of ideas, I realized that my characters were haphazardly developed.  Where did they come from?  What were their motivations?  Why did they exist?  On day 3, I decided to spend a few hours turning my characters into people.  Afterwards, I forced myself to spit out 2,000 words of story.

As I read over what I wrote, I started to become disappointed in myself.  Normally I consider myself a talented writer, but the sentences and paragraphs I had thrown on to paper were just as haphazardly formed as my characters were.  I had rejected my “short and sweet” writing style in favor of run-on sentences and unrestricted rambling.  I started searching for ways to throw in more words.  I stopped using contractions.  I became wordy.

My main character started to develop ADD.  It took her hours to wash her face in the morning because she just could not stop “daydreaming.”  Microsoft Word’s Readability Statistics dropped me from grade 12 to grade 5 over a matter of hours.  I was officially becoming illiterate.

I hated what I wrote.  It wasn’t my style.  And I wasn’t enjoying writing.  I didn’t feel proud of what I was producing.  So I quit.  I stopped writing.  I took a few days to sit around and play computer games.  I watched television.  I voted in the election.

But now, I feel like I abandoned my characters.  They are begging me not to forget them.  They need love and a place to stay, just like any other human being.  So, I will continue writing my story.

I have, however, determined that the goal of writing 50,000 words in 30 days should be reserved only for the insane.  Or at least those who have a lot to say.  If you are the annoying person at work who just won’t stop running their mouth, then you might have a chance at winning NaNoWriMo.  However, if you are naturally quiet and reserved like me, then it might not work out so well.

Is it too late to catch up?

 

 

I’m Running Away!

This is the longest workday eveeeer!  I’m ready to run away.  I packed up all my stuff.

Every time I get ready to make a break for it, my boss walks by.  She doesn’t say anything – but there she is again.  She must have a sixth sense for potential escapees or something.

Men’s Health

8 hours is so long!  It’s not fair.  Being a grown-up sucks.  Who invented the 40-hour work week?

Work would not be as painful if we had recess.  Why don’t we have recess?  Now our only options for freedom during the day are to either take extended bathroom breaks or develop a smoking habit.  Neither of which are much fun.  Has anyone ever really enjoyed bowel issues or lung cancer?

Plus, your coworkers will inevitably notice your extended absences from your desk.

If you try to cheat by taking extended lunches, you will have to stay in the office longer to make up for it.  Took an hour and a half for lunch?  Tack that extra 30 minutes onto the end of your workday.  Otherwise, expect to see that money gone from your paycheck.

This is so bogus!  Back in the day, if you “got lost” on the way back to the classroom from the school cafeteria, you didn’t have to stay a proportionate amount of extra time after class.  Teachers did not care if you missed class.

Why is the office norm sitting at your desk pretending to work?  Normal behavior should be skipping down the hallway singing.  Recess for grown-ups.

WHY NOT?

Sometimes, I ponder whether I’m allergic to work.  I tend to develop headaches and become irritable in the afternoon, probably because I don’t get paid naptime.  Wtf??

If corporations modeled office rules after kindergarten classrooms, employees would be a lot happier.  We’d get recess, naptime, playtime, milk & cookies, songs, occasional learning and friendships!  Yay!  What could be better?

To my fellow office sufferers:

Is it suspect if I post a standard “Out of Office” message on my email just in case I make it out of here?  I wouldn’t say anything too obvious, just something like:

Is this okay?

I’m Not Dead

Wow, those two weeks went by quickly!  I haven’t had time to do much of anything lately.  Between working full-time and yelling at my husband, who has time to write?

I’m kidding.  The real reason that I haven’t posted anything is because it’s hard to write a coherent blog post when you’re drunk.  I decided to stay sober today in an effort to reassure the Internet that Raezyn has not disappeared.  Is anyone actually tracking these things? You can call off the search party.

I haven’t even had time to read other people’s blogs.  There are a few funny writers that I have completely fallen out of touch with.  It is a shame.  Not only am I isolated in real life, I am isolated on the World Wide Web.  But today, I have returned to entertain you, Internet.  Hopefully my friends will call me back so I can go out and do something fun afterwards.  I’m kidding again.  I don’t have friends.

This morning I woke up to a half-full glass of Merlot and an open box of Milk Duds.  Leftovers from my wild and crazy Friday night.  So I had Milk Duds and wine for breakfast.  Given that I was still kind of drunk from staying up drinking until 3 AM, those last sips of wine were all the alcohol I needed to pass out and sleep some more.  I’m not an alcoholic.

I woke up at 2:30 PM with a sugar high.  Go figure.  After scolding my husband for exhibiting man-like behavior, I remembered that I had abandoned my glorious blog.  So, I made myself some coffee and powered up the ol’ laptop.  After surfing the Internet for a couple of hours, I started writing.  I hope this post is satisfactory, because it’s all you’re going to get today, Internet.

I’ve got to start getting ready to hit the bumpin’ comedy scene in D.C.  I don’t have time to edit this post and add pictures and what not.  Do I seem moody?  I feel moody.  I’m a little moody today.  I’m not sure why.

Hmm.

Notes After Dark

In my desperate efforts to put together a stand-up comedy routine, I have been carrying around a notebook to record every funny idea that I have. I write down everything that even remotely strikes me as amusing. At bedtime, my notebook and pen lie within arm’s reach. This is a brilliant strategy because I am most creative late at night, in between dreams.

One evening, I wrote:

Unexpected diarrhea is the best diarrhea.

Followed by:

But that’s the worst, when you look like your act.

I remember writing those comments down. I remember laughing about them. I don’t recall why. If only I’d had the presence of mind to clarify the joke. It’s been a week since I wrote them and I’m still perplexed. Trying to piece together the context of these statements is fun. Over time, I’ll hone my skills to figure out what they mean. If I ever have to solve a crime committed by my evil alter ego, I’ll be ready.

My last note of the night was:

I’m still more sober than some of you have been in years.

This tells me one thing. I am an unnecessarily mean person late at night. First of all, who am I berating here? I must have dreamt that I was an AA group leader and I showed up drunk to the meeting. This is the only scenario that makes sense to me.

If this is the case, then why did I only write that one line? I’m still more sober than some of you have been in years. Brutal. Once I start performing at open mics, I’ll have to convince the bookers to put me on stage early. After a certain time of night, I become inexplicably hateful.