In India,
of every 1,000 babies born alive, 52 die before age 1,
nearly half the children younger than 5 are malnourished,
every year, 1.5 million children die before their 5th birthday because of unsafe water, inadequate sanitation, or poor hygiene,
30% of adult women are underweight,
70% of women can't read or write,
nearly 30% of all newborns have a low weight,
and about 46% of all children younger than 3 are small for their age.

Around the world,
every sixth child (ages 15-17) is engaged in child labour (218 million),
22,000 children die yearly in work-related accidents,
and 8.4 million children are trapped in slavery, trafficking, debt, bondage, prostitution, and pornography.

Every country and developing country harbours abusive child labour in some form.

Some of that is from Unicef, some of it is from Compassion International. Doubt the statistics if you want, but who would make all this up?

Keep your eyes open. Look for ways to make the world a better place. Love more. Share more. Change the world more.




Lydia

I had about a 30 minute period today filled with me freaking out. I went to the library desprately in need of a few books (I read a lot...). I didn't anticipate what I found. There was a shelf with a large banner that read "BANNED BOOKS."........................................................I want that to sink in for a moment. Alright, your reaction should be something along the lines of "OH MY WORD!" That was exactly what I was thinking.

My mind was spinning thinking about books being banned. I was so incredible distraught. Think about it for a moment, books being banned at a public library. That to me just screams Communisim. All I could think about was that our country was going to Hell in a handbasket, that the U.S. was becoming a Communist society and, that I was going to be moving to Canada as soon as I could.

Needless to say I grabbed a book from this section (I am a rebel at heart, what can I say), and plodded over to the normal book section I look at, all the while muttering to myself--both out loud and in my head--about the world and what it was coming too.

I can not picture a world in which I could not read certain things just because it is deemed "wrong" or "innappropriate" by society. I want, no I need that freedom to read whatever I want. I need that freedom to learn about culture, the world, and what other people think.

Now that I probably have most people in a panic let me finish my story. I proceeded with all my books (I got 5 or 6) to check out. The nice lady who helped me informed me of a $0.30 fine...I paid it, and then she scanned all my books. As soon as she was done, I casually glanced at her and asked her about the "Banned Books." She told me that the "Banned Books" were merely put on display for the month to inform people about the history of banned books. The books on display were books previously banned by different groups, both religious and cultural.

I breathed a huge sigh of relief and told her how glad I was for this, and how worried I was that I was going to have to move to Canada...and I left the library, books in hand an a heart calmed.


Brianna

Sorry, you kind of need a magnifying glass to see this picture, but it's the only one I could find.
It's Teen Angst?Naaah..., author Ned Vizzini's autobiography. I finished reading it yesterday, and ohmyword it's so great. It takes you event-by-event through his Junior High and High School years, and man! the dude is hysterical.
Let's face it-we all had those awful years of development when we obsessed over something, anything. For Ned it was video games, for me it was certain fantasy-fiction works. Those years were there, we can't deny them, though we can try (really hard) to forget. Mr. Vizzini writes us through those awful years, poking fun at himself, and the laughable way he coped with everything. It's so great to hear someone else look at life and know that it's not some tight rope that you have to walk perfectly. He makes fun of himself, and his high school, and his decisions, and really comes out ahead for his honesty. I recommend (obviously).





Lydia

Since Saturday, well really since last Tuesday life has been at an all time high. I love it. I've been busy, and it's been wonderful. It's been a mix of the following:

Friends--lots of them...and it's beautiful.
Decisions--I've made some that I'm excited about.
ACT I'm not going to talk about that.
Indecision--I know, I know
Life Management--class I'm taking for school...sooooo good.
"You and I" by Ingrid Michaelson
Praise songs
Taco Bell
Rain--I love it when it rains.

I love life, and I'm enjoying and learning to enjoy even more the little things in life. I'm so glad it's been raining. I just love the smell of the rain, and the way it smells after it rains.


Brianna

Gulliver's Travels is an awful book in my humble opinion.
Controlled Media is starting to freak me out.
Sociology is a crazy subject.
I really want to pierce my eyebrow.
It's so beautiful outside.
Ted Lennon and Ingrid Michaelson both make wonderful music.
A year and a half of High School left.
I want to go on a really long camping trip in Arizona.

That's my week for you.



Lydia

The Jesus Vernacular

Sorry, Brianna, I know we agreed on no titles, but I couldn't resist. Just this once. I promise.
I love those three words together though...The Jesus Vernacular. They came to me last night around midnight and I've been tossing them around in my head since then.
I figure the phrase means something like the way Jesus spoke, or the words that should be first on the lips of all Christians: our "native language", in a way. If that is so, then we need to carefully evaluate everything that He has said. Maybe, in order to acquire a legitimate Jesus vernacular we should study the red letters: meditate on them, even. Replenish the gardens of our dry souls with their life-giving Message.
I think that it takes one special person to have his/her own vernacular. Their own language! Well, studying the words of Jesus show us just that: a unique language. I want to call it a language of love, but that's not inclusive enough. He didn't just love, He lived love. He showed mercy: He embodied strength of mind and spirit.
If you know any of Jesus' stories, you know that He didn't slander different racial groups, He didn't belittle the minorities, He respected everyone, even those who lacked respect at the time. He showed the world that an unfaithful woman is just as precious as the most faithful man. He opened the kingdom of God to the outsiders, the outcasts, the destitute. Even so, I shall open my heart to the lowly, to the miserable. Our souls were made to be lifted up to God as fragrant offerings. He has given us the perfect example of how to be just that. He has told us what to say! He has documented a special jargon, dialect, lingo, manner of speaking.
It's splendid, really!
May all of God's children will find the soul power to take advantage of this set-apart language, and the Helper who is always with us. Let's speak the words of love every day no matter where we are, no matter who we're with, no matter Who is watching.

Let us use the Jesus Vernacular.




Lydia

This post is for the people who don't have water, who don't have work, who don't have hope. This one goes to the children whose parents love them, and to those whose parents abandoned them. In this post, I ache for everyone who has died, and for everyone who longs to die. I cry for the pain of the lonely child, and I sob for the hungry. Here I wish luck to the Hispanics applying for permission to enter the land of oppurtunity so that they can obtain a job that will enable them to feed their family. What a stark contrast there is between those who celebrate life, and those who celebrate death.
I question Bali and the Caribbean islands as they contradict their own beauty with poverty suffered by multitudes. How can Mexico City be so beautiful, and so dirty?
Oh! the beauty of the Indian celebration, oh! the cruelty of the Calcutta red light district. Look at the colourful African plain, look at the war-torn farm land. I love the Rocky Mountains of Colorado, but it hurts to hear that children live on streets in the neighbouring metropolis. How horrible to know that someone has choked to death in a country full of air filters and fast-acting asthma medication. I utter a sad cry for the people who feel left behind, and lost in a crowd.
Here I raise my banner high, as a rebel refusing to submit to the cruelty of this planet. I refuse to let it be. I don't like seeing others suffer, I don't like knowing that they do. I hate to hear of those who refuse to take the hand offered them.There is so much beauty, but there is so much hurt. I long to see it all changed; I long to belong. What a glory to know that soon there will be a new time when nothing is wrong, and nothing is perverted. The truth which is the answer to the pain has been revealed-it has all been said. The real problem is that so many of us refuse to listen.
This one is for those who have yet to hear, but are ready to believe.



Lydia

I always forget that you have to upload pictures in the opposite order I want them posted in, so here's the back cover of the notebook I made today.

The pages...made all of re-used paper.

And here's the front! I got that from a magazine.

Lydia

"We are His portion and He is our prize, Drawn to redemption by the grace in His eyes, If His grace is an ocean, we're all sinking." from "How He Loves" by the David Crowder Band

This song is beautiful. It has become one of my absolute favorite songs. I won't ever forget the first time I heard it. I was brought to tears by the words of the song, and by the situation that had come about days before. This song has given me hope and peace. It has reminded me of the love of my Father.

I could write about each line in the song. It's so beautifully written. This line stands out boldly to me: "If His grace is an ocean, we're all sinking." The Lord bestows upon us a never-ending grace. A grace so deep, so wide, so full that it sweeps us away. He drowns us in His grace and His love.

I can't think of all the times I've screwed up. All the times I've failed to do what is right. All the times I've messed up and not been proud of myself. I am unable to imagine all the heartache my parents have felt when I continually mess up in life, even when it's just the "little things." If I'm unable to understand that, then the heaviness of the heart of God when I mess up is unfathomable. But yet, He pours out His grace that is like the ocean and forgives me, wipes me clean. He drowns me in His grace, and loves me like no other.


Brianna

"I want to run on greener pastures

I want to dance on higher hills

I want to drink from sweeter waters

In the misty morning chill

And my soul is getting restless

For the place where I belong

I can't wait to join the angels and sing my heaven song"

"Heaven Song" by Phil Wickham

These lyrics have been on my mind and heavy on my heart the last couple of days.

Today I burned a few CDs for friends (legally-I burned them off of itunes). They are awesome. Stinking awesome if I do say so myself. A few of my favorite songs that I put on them are:

Heaven Song by Phil Wickham
You and I by Ingrid Michaelson
How He Loves by David Crowder Band
So in Love feat. Jack Johnson and Colbie Callait by Ted Lennon
The One Who Loves You the Most by Brett Dennen





Lydia

I've figured out that inspiration is everywhere. I've heard that quite a few times, but now I've learned it.

I was watching Miami Ink (this suhweet show on Green channel and TLC about a tattoo studio in Miami)the other day, and I could not stop watching it, because the art and the artists were so phenomenal. For some reason I haven't actually thought about tattooing as it's own art form before. I've always just lumped it with drawing and painting. Big mistake. Tattooes have a distinct style about them. Kind of dark, and flowy. They're beautiful. And the artists themselves seem like cool people (given this is a TV show, not everyday life). Anyway, the tats on the show inspired me to try all different kinds of lettering and sort of in-your-face graphics. That led me to teach myself graffiti. It's very fun. Above is an example of what I've been doing.

Life is a learning experience, isn't it?

Lydia

Tuesday, I said good-bye to someone who entered my life a few years ago, but has grown to be a very dear close friend. She's leaving to go to Colorado for a couple months for training before going to Africa. I'm so excited for her.

I'm going to miss her so very much. I'm going to miss her sweet smile, her kind words...and the fact that she puts up with the insanity of us teenage girls. She never has uttered an harsh word to me. She is so kind, encouraging and sweet. I'm thankful for her love for life.

I'm going to miss her so very much. I can't wait for her to get home and share her stories of living life.


Brianna

I have a desire. I have a desire to worship with my hands. To worship with my hands uplifted to God, glorifiying Him...for being...God. I want to worship not just mentally, but emotionally, and physically. I want to be able to show my joy to the Lord in songs of praise to HIM!

I have been struggling with this for a while. Currently, I cannot worship like this...exactly. Sure I can raise a hand when singing, but not in a truly expressive way. I'm not saying I want to jump around and act crazy, I don't. But just expressing my love and joy in the Lord, giving Him the glory, that is my desire.

I go to a great church. I don't think it is at all a bad church. At all. The doctrine is fantastic. But, I can say with all honesty that emotional worship is not a big deal. Worship is stationary, not very emotional. This is a struggle for me. I want to worship the Lord in an enviornment where the doctrine is great, but also where I am free to raise my hands in glory to my Creator. Even more so, I want to do so in a place where people won't look down on me. Where it isn't "weird" or "odd for me to do so. Church is meant to be a family. But when a family isn't supportive or on the same page as you...is that not a problem?

Don't get me wrong, I'm not saying emotions in worship is more important than doctrine. You can't have one without the other. It isn't one without the other. It should be a balance.

I want to feel at home. I want to feel at home in church.


Brianna

P.S. I apologize for maybe not being clear. This was a spilling out of emotion and pain.

The book on the left is phenomenal. The book on the right is up next.

I am also reading Working in the Shadows by Gabriel Thompson. I highly recommend (so far).

Lydia

Happy October 1st!


Lydia: After a month as crazy as September has been, I would love to have a month untouched by death and pain. Seeing how that would require my dying and going to heaven, I'll simply hope to keep up with my studies and say "no" to procrastination this October.

Brianna: I am thankful for fall. As October is beginning, I am hoping to make it to the Bush home at least one Sunday this month. I am also praying I survive the ACT. I would like to echo Lydia's sentiments above about wanting to have a month untouched by death and pain.