I had an interesting dream last night. I can't stop thinking about it, so I decided to write it out.
Part 1: I was going to/at my grandma's funeral...but it was like the second or third one we had had for her for some reason. Anyway, afterwards, I was walking through this reception area and some teenagers were watching The Passion on a television. One was knelt down and just praying instead of watching, which I found interesting. I stood there and watched for a minute for some reason...and then left.
Part 2. I'm in a group with my family and some other people. We're in a hotel, and I'm jumping from room to room trying to get ready for the day/pack up my stuff/etc. My mom was a central figure here...
Part 3. I'm in this barricade/house place and there's some kind of war/ruckus outside. It's me and a few other people my age and then some kids and we're seemingly hiding out. Then, a guy brings in Jesus....basically we're in the middle of The Passion movie only with a few twists. He had somehow gotten Jesus' body off of the cross because other people were trying to take him to destroy his body or something. I'm not really sure what all was going on. So the guy took Jesus to a central room in the building and I had to keep watch while the guy washed his wounds. There was this weird reporter girl who was trying to get in, but I wouldn't let her. I had to like hit her with this weird instrument/stick thing. I barely hit her, but for some reason it really hurt, and I was able to keep her out. Then, I looked back, and Jesus was alive. The two were still hiding out while the people around the building slowly backed down because they thought we might not be in there.
Part 3. continued... So, finally, things quiet down a bit and we gather in a main hall. Jesus was in there and I was so in awe. I was very calmly excited and I was incredibly drawn to him. So I walked up to him even though he was in the middle of talking to some people and I said, "It's nice to see you." I've said that a lot but for some reason I knew that he would know how I meant it. I knew as I was saying it that sure, I haven't lived so much like it would be good to see him, but I knew that he didn't see me that way. At that point in my life, I hadn't heard anything about the "Gospel" of course...we were in the middle of it. So I didn't see him like I'd picute it based on my experiences in "real" life...but I experienced it as if I imagine the disciples did. We all talked a little bit about the next steps of the plan...whatever that was....and then he grabbed a guitar and asked us if we wanted to sing a little bit. I thought..."holy smokes...Jesus is asking if we want to sing with him?????" So we started worshipping and I was looking around. I was almost surprised by the people who were there...it wasn't the adults that I see as walking closely with God...it was kids--people my age and on down to maybe 7 or 8ish. It was so cool.
That was good to type it out so I could think about it. I just love good dreams!
Sunday, March 05, 2006
Thursday, March 02, 2006
Characters...
I was watching a man give a presentation today at work, and it was very interesting. He was a great speaker, and I thoroughly enjoyed listening to what he had to say, but I couldn't help but picture him in a caricature image. Just watching him and a couple of other people today I felt inspired to write a story and use their interesting characteristics for the players. Please excuse the verb tense changes...
It was a typical October morning, and old Tuck was up early as usual. His real name was Thomas, but most people who met him understood that such a formal name didn't belong to this bloke. No, even such an ordinary moniker like Tom wouldn't be fitting either. Somehow, along the way, someone referred to him as Tuck, and no one seemed to know him as anything else thereafter.
Tuck was known as a thinker. He didn't say much, mostly because he just had nothing to say. When he did speak, it always came out slowly and with much thought. It seemed that Tuck put thought into pretty much everything he did. Now and then, though, something would really puzzle him. He doesn't give up when it comes to puzzles, so he spends some good time thinking. Lots of people around town like to find things that will make Tuck think. In fact, some of the neighborhood's ne'erdowells sometimes make a game out of it, as if to see who can make Tuck think the longest about a particular subject or question. But most people are just curious as to what's going on inside the old man's head. They're especially curious as to what he thinks about on his pensive, serious morning walks.
This particular day, Tuck had gone for one of his morning walk and found himself at the gas station-turned-coffeeshop. It had become a routine for Tuck, especially on such cheerfully brisk mornings as these. The group of regulars was already there discussing what topic might Tuck enjoy pondering today. The whole crowd was there. Miss Polly, the ever-aging and shrinking librarian who can't help but walk in a waddle now and then, Dr. Blaystone, a large man who's only apparent problem is holding his monacle in place, Jimmy Benz, a bit young for this group of regulars but the group accepts him nevertheless, and Rodge Philtzer, a retired farmer who stutters now and then but some think that Miss Polly fancies him just the same. I guess most wouldn't call this bunch a crowd, but in small towns such as these the terms are a bit more vague.
Anyway, they had just settled on a question for Tuck as he stepped inside. Miss Polly was so anxious to hear his response that she had to focus her attention on Jimmy's new shoes in order to keep from blurting the question out of turn. The five began their usual chit-chat, starting with the pleasant weather we've been having and the particulars of the new family on the west end of town. Eventually, the chatter natually died down, and the four looked at each other somewhat expectantly as if to choose the day's proposer with their eyes. After a moment of this, Miss Polly couldn't handle it.
"Mr. Tuck," she said as if sighing, "we were just wondering...What is it that you think about when you go out walking in the mornings?"
Tuck slowly allowed his eyes to widen slightly. He had never had such a direct question from the group before. Sure, he knew that he spent a lot of time just thinking. And he knew that the others wondered about him sometimes. And he even knew that they occasionally tried to give him a difficult thought to process. But never before had they asked such a personal question.
He gradually lowered his eyes to the ground as he began to think about his response. At first, Miss Polly wondered if she had made a mistake in asking her question. But, she really did want to know. The others did too.
To their surprise, Tuck lifted his head a moment later. Immediatly the others locked their gaze to his face. Normally, the group would sit in silence and enjoy their coffee for a good while as they waited for his answer. He even had a particular stance for his thinking time. He'd lean to one side, often close his eyes, and rest his hand in his face.
This time, Tuck had the stance. He had his first two fingers pressed in the curves that his aging cheek created and wrapped the rest of the fingers of his left hand around his mouth. He had that, but this time he was already ready to answer!
"Well..." he said more carefully than before. " When I'm out walking in the morning, I do think of a lot of things."
The group got increasingly excited. To them, his thoughts were worth more than their own. He spent so much time thinking so those thoughts must be worth gold! What are the deep, meaningful things that he must pursue in his old, wise mind?
"Yes, I do think of a lot of things....but most of the time, I'm just trying not to step on the cracks."
For some reason, Miss Polly wasn't quite satisfied with this answer. But, she smiled and thanked Tuck for his prompt reply. The group got back to their discussions about last night's baseball game and the status of the Mayor's wife's pregnancy. But Miss Polly and Rodge stepped out of the gas station-turned-coffeeshop a bit early that morning. Tuck overheard Miss Polly mumble something about not being late to her water aerobics class...at least he thought so anyway.
It was a typical October morning, and old Tuck was up early as usual. His real name was Thomas, but most people who met him understood that such a formal name didn't belong to this bloke. No, even such an ordinary moniker like Tom wouldn't be fitting either. Somehow, along the way, someone referred to him as Tuck, and no one seemed to know him as anything else thereafter.
Tuck was known as a thinker. He didn't say much, mostly because he just had nothing to say. When he did speak, it always came out slowly and with much thought. It seemed that Tuck put thought into pretty much everything he did. Now and then, though, something would really puzzle him. He doesn't give up when it comes to puzzles, so he spends some good time thinking. Lots of people around town like to find things that will make Tuck think. In fact, some of the neighborhood's ne'erdowells sometimes make a game out of it, as if to see who can make Tuck think the longest about a particular subject or question. But most people are just curious as to what's going on inside the old man's head. They're especially curious as to what he thinks about on his pensive, serious morning walks.
This particular day, Tuck had gone for one of his morning walk and found himself at the gas station-turned-coffeeshop. It had become a routine for Tuck, especially on such cheerfully brisk mornings as these. The group of regulars was already there discussing what topic might Tuck enjoy pondering today. The whole crowd was there. Miss Polly, the ever-aging and shrinking librarian who can't help but walk in a waddle now and then, Dr. Blaystone, a large man who's only apparent problem is holding his monacle in place, Jimmy Benz, a bit young for this group of regulars but the group accepts him nevertheless, and Rodge Philtzer, a retired farmer who stutters now and then but some think that Miss Polly fancies him just the same. I guess most wouldn't call this bunch a crowd, but in small towns such as these the terms are a bit more vague.
Anyway, they had just settled on a question for Tuck as he stepped inside. Miss Polly was so anxious to hear his response that she had to focus her attention on Jimmy's new shoes in order to keep from blurting the question out of turn. The five began their usual chit-chat, starting with the pleasant weather we've been having and the particulars of the new family on the west end of town. Eventually, the chatter natually died down, and the four looked at each other somewhat expectantly as if to choose the day's proposer with their eyes. After a moment of this, Miss Polly couldn't handle it.
"Mr. Tuck," she said as if sighing, "we were just wondering...What is it that you think about when you go out walking in the mornings?"
Tuck slowly allowed his eyes to widen slightly. He had never had such a direct question from the group before. Sure, he knew that he spent a lot of time just thinking. And he knew that the others wondered about him sometimes. And he even knew that they occasionally tried to give him a difficult thought to process. But never before had they asked such a personal question.
He gradually lowered his eyes to the ground as he began to think about his response. At first, Miss Polly wondered if she had made a mistake in asking her question. But, she really did want to know. The others did too.
To their surprise, Tuck lifted his head a moment later. Immediatly the others locked their gaze to his face. Normally, the group would sit in silence and enjoy their coffee for a good while as they waited for his answer. He even had a particular stance for his thinking time. He'd lean to one side, often close his eyes, and rest his hand in his face.
This time, Tuck had the stance. He had his first two fingers pressed in the curves that his aging cheek created and wrapped the rest of the fingers of his left hand around his mouth. He had that, but this time he was already ready to answer!
"Well..." he said more carefully than before. " When I'm out walking in the morning, I do think of a lot of things."
The group got increasingly excited. To them, his thoughts were worth more than their own. He spent so much time thinking so those thoughts must be worth gold! What are the deep, meaningful things that he must pursue in his old, wise mind?
"Yes, I do think of a lot of things....but most of the time, I'm just trying not to step on the cracks."
For some reason, Miss Polly wasn't quite satisfied with this answer. But, she smiled and thanked Tuck for his prompt reply. The group got back to their discussions about last night's baseball game and the status of the Mayor's wife's pregnancy. But Miss Polly and Rodge stepped out of the gas station-turned-coffeeshop a bit early that morning. Tuck overheard Miss Polly mumble something about not being late to her water aerobics class...at least he thought so anyway.
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