Lingerdog's World

I have felt for some time now, not really since the beginning, but close, I’ve felt that something big was going to happen, that I was supposed to do something for God, and I’ve been wondering what it is.
I’m going to Atlantafest this summer, and I have a feeling that everything will become clear that week. That all my growth, the learning I’ve been doing, will all come to a head at that moment in time, and whether all is revealed to me or not, I will walk away with a complete understanding of what I am supposed to be doing.
I feel like I get glimpses of it now, little nudges in one direction or another, and I think I can start to see shapes through the haze of uncertainty, and I wonder, is that it, is that what I’m supposed to be doing, and the curtain will be closed back upon the scene and a voice will tell me, not yet, but soon you will be ready.
Part of why I want to go to Atlantafest is the music. I’ve always loved music, all kinds. But these are Christian artist, but that doesn’t pigeon hole them into one specific genre.
There are some rock bands, one that has a sound reminiscent of AFI, a pop sounding female vocalist, hip hop performer. Like I said different genres. I’m making a short list of the ones I want to see, and once I know the performance schedules, well if I have to cut some out, I’ll decide then which ones it’ll be.
Then there are the speakers, Nick Vujicic, you may have seen him on youtube or facebook before, he’s a motivational speaker with no arms or legs. And Matt Pitt, a preacher like you’ve probably never seen before. Google Matt Pitt and the basement and check out his story.
But as excited as I am for those things, I am equally, if not more excited about the Christian living seminars and the prayer path. Check it all out at their website: http://www.atlantafest.com/
I feel like, for me at least, the prayer path will truly be a spiritual awakening moment.
But to get back to my main point of interest, music, well not exactly music, but it leads to my point of interest.
I love music, and here lately I’ve had some songs screaming a message at me.
Some of which are “Keep Quiet” by Barlow Girl, “Million Voices” again by Barlow Girl, and “Lost Get Found” by Nicole Britt
And what I hear from these songs is this, tell someone about Jesus Christ and salvation, and how important it is to not be silent when given this opportunity. And this has really been building as a burden in me, because more and more it seems I see those lost out there moving about, not caring that they are lost.
And at the same time I see other Christians react in this way to those people when they see them, “Look at that guy, he’s going to hell the way he’s living, shacked up with his girlfriend, ain’t never gonna get right,” and in the next breath start talking about what went on at work that week.
You just looked at a person, and judged that they are going to hell, and even though you have salvation in you, the greatest gift ever, a gift that it’s okay to re-gift, you’re going to ignore a person going to hell in your judgment, who just walked by you.
Why would you not share the love of Jesus Christ with that person, and I’m sorry, why would you open with telling them they’re going to hell, because really, you don’t know that, you are assuming it. Maybe I’m wrong but I thought the Bible said to spread the gospel, not to run around telling every lost person they are going to hell.
When you open with that, people shut their mind and ears to anything you have to say afterward because they know you’ve already made up your mind about them. But when you start by asking them simple things like “who is Jesus to you” or even just asking if they’ve ever heard of Jesus Christ, and inviting them to church.
And don’t get hung up on the fact that they might wear baggy pants, or a sideways ball cap, or whatever, that’s your own vanity about what the proper way to dress is distracting you from what your purpose in speaking to this lost soul should be, helping move them down the path that leads to salvation.
We sometimes seem to forget that some of the disciples were just stinky old fishermen when Jesus first encountered them, but when he left boy, whoo! They were fishers of men!

That's not all I want to say about this, but just feels like the right point for me to stop this part of the story.

ETA: This was actually written around 7:40 Friday night, I'm only just now posting it cause I've been a bit lazy.

It's snowing here, all of about two inches so far, that also equals the number of times I have fallen.

Now don't use my medic alert bracelet, I did get back up, that's how I'm typing this now.

Anyway, the first fall, I saw a kids sled and picked it up, figured I'd give it a go, you know, run dive, slide. It's one of those plastic ones, I don't know if they have different names in other parts of the country, but round here, a sled is a sled is a sled.

Now how many people misread that as salad salad salad?

So I took two half lumbering, slightly jaunty steps towards a slight slope of a hill, but before I could take flight, well I took flight as I watched my feet come up above my face.

I turned in mid air so that instead of landing on my amply padded backside, I could land safe and secure with my keys between my leg and the ground, digging oh so carefully into the fleshy parts of me.

I laughed it off, cause I love snow, it's the greatest thing on the planet, yes even better than those two nice things all the pretty ladies have, you know arms, cause sorry if I offend, I'm just not into amputees, but I really dig a girl with two really nice arms.

But I digress as I all too often do.

Does anyone else use words that they aren't really sure of the meaning of, but they sound like they would fit where you put them, I do that sometimes, so if digress means an egress with a copy of readers digest or something like that, then I've totally screwed up already.

Again back to the story, I've always been bad about chasing rabbits in the middle of stories, no that isn't how I fell the second time, I was just walking along, and boom, up come my feet again, I do the midair triple axel again, really, if this were an Olympic <---(spell check just told me that Olympic was capitalized, I didn't know that, hmmm) sport, I would excel in it.

So down I came once again, not on my overly ample gluteus maximus but onto my keys between my leg and the ground.

I now have two key shaped marks, one in each leg as I switched sides after the first fall because that side was getting irritated by the swishing of the keys in my pocket.

So, is there a moral to this story, why yes it is, it is to say that I love snow, it is my favorite thing in the whole wide world, it's more awesome than Dwayne "The Rock" Johnson. I love how it's so white that it absorbs so much light that it makes the sky look darker when it's falling because your eyes just focus on it.

I love how you can go out at night without a light and be able to see everything because of how it draws in every bit of available light and shines in the night like a giant spotlight on everything.

I also like, that unlike ice, you know, when you fall on ice, it's hard, it doesn't give, it hurts. Snow on the other hand, well, when you fall on snow, it's like falling on marshmallows. It's truly the greatest thing ever, and that's why I love snow.

Not that you were asking or anything, but there you go.

Toodles, Happy Weekend.