For the boys.

Now a very common argument between men is manliness and what is considered "Manly" and it's understandable, honestly the only reason men argue about this is self confidence as to whether or not they have a chance at getting a girl or not.  Personally I find insecurity about being a man, very un-manly. I'm sure that looks so mature that we get into Facebook debates about who is the manliest. But lets just step back, forget everything we know about manliness and just look at what it means to be a man.

You may say that being able to tame a grizzly bear family, on your own, is manly. If not you may also say that being able to wrestle a giant squid in the ocean, is manly. I must say, being able to do either of those would be very impressive. Though impressive is not what manliness is, and if it was, there are a lot of very manly woman in this world, I must say.

But you take those ideas away, stop showing off you mad guitar skills...basically stop being an idiot. And look at the origin of men. Men were the first people to wear tights in the middle ages, and that was considered very "Manly" and lets be serious, that doesn't make them gay in any way. That just make them perverts, there is a reason they wanted wore tights, and wore make-up, to impress the ladies. And lets be serious, the root of it is impressing the ladies. And that is what was considered manly at that point.

Your probably like "So whats this have to do with being manly?" and patience, I'm getting there.

Have you ever been swing dancing? Or maybe even ballroom? If not then I'll give you a secret. If you are the man of the couple, you are leading. You are the one who is leading the woman into all kinds of tricks and stuff. And if you are good at leading, great, woman find that impressive. You know why?

There is nothing more manly than being a good leader. 

Now before you get a team together for capture the flag, and become today's playground tyrant. I'm going to let you in on a few...A lot of secrets to being a good leader. Cause there is nothing more harmful than power. You can interpret power however you want, whether it being money, strength, knowledge or if you have all of those. You may win immediately, but the long term win turns out to be a loss. I've seen this for like...a every guy I know, including myself. "Fools find no pleasure in understanding, but delight in airing their own opinion."


Now here are a few things you will need to have down in order to claim ultimate manliness. My Pastor spoke on this a couple weeks ago, and gave me these ideas.

1: You should always be above reproach.

2: You need to be a faithful husband/fiance/boyfriend. Cause loyalty and honesty are the most important things in a relationship.

3: Balanced, make sure you are balanced in every number on this list. It's hard, but worth it in return.

4: Self Control, this is where the power is to be challenged. You might say "I don't have issues with power" but that's exactly what you would say. Right?

5: Respectable, this is also to be applied to every number on this list.

6: Hospitable, no, this doesn't mean you should be able to clean your house, though that would be nice. But this means you are to be able to interact "Politely" with people. the actual definition for this is "friendly and welcoming to strangers or guests" 

7: Able to to teach, this is my hardest. You are able to teach, I know this for sure. But you might not be a big group teacher. One on one teaching might be more your thing, Or the other way around. 

8: Not a drunkard. Yes, I said it. And you know who you are. 

9: Not violent. Yes, I said that too. You know who you are as well. I hope that if you struggled with abusive situations in your life, that you can slowely get over it. Not by gaining power on your own, but just becoming okay with it. and perhaps helping people in similar situations. Imagine being able to be hospitable, loyal, and able to teach, at the same time. 

10: Not quarrelsome, "given to or characterized by quarreling" Basically don't be a jerk. This goes with 8 and 9. 

11: Not a lover of money. This is a place where people struggle with balance. Its okay to have lots of money, just don't obsess about it. 

12: Good father. Leader, teacher. Teach family to respect, and be hospitable. 

13: Be a mature follower of Christ. You are just now realizing that this is all bionically based. And some of you may be rolling your eyes. But if I had you up to this point, then why stop now? Maturity is an amazing thing, as long as you have come to realize age has never made anyone wise. 

14: You must represent Christ well. In favor with God, and Men. 


That's all I know about manliness. Now I quoted something above the list. "A fool finds no pleasure in understanding, but delights in airing his own opinions." I would like to take this time to say, that was from the holy Bible. That was Proverbs 18:2. In fact if you read the whole book of proverbs over and over again, you will start to uncover some serious truth. 

Thank you for reading, and I hope you can take as much out of this, as I have. 

When Death is Crowned: Dream.

The deep depths of snow filled the dome with snow. It was filling up fast. What is going on? Black slowly approached the snow and caught it on fire. Soon everything was on fire. The depths of Heather’s subconscious looked just like this. She was happy here. This was her home. And it was.

Everything had taken form, it molded into her house, she knew not of what was going on. But her first thought was to run to her bed, and that is what she did. This was strange. She is controlling her dream. Could she control other things in her dream? She picked up a vase full of dead flowers and dropped it “Don’t break!” It fell to the floor, clattering around spilling the flowers on the floor. The noise echoed down the rustic looking hallway, with pictures hanging on its sides. She noticed something bazaar about the images that the frames closed in…

…Taking a step toward them, in one she could see a man pulling her up a cliff, into a white room. She looked to the image opposite. It was crooked, shaking actually. It held and image of her running away from the missile strike. Pieces of rubble flying everywhere, missiles raining from the sky, as far as she could see. Everything was being destroyed. A security van outside exploded right next to her, she didn't seem to feel the pressure of the explosion, in fact she seemed protected from it. The house was leveled behind her; there is no way that anyone came out of this alive. When the tremor hit, she watched herself fall to her knees. She couldn't help. The yellow school bus was flying toward Heather at an alarming speed. She knew what was about to happen. Heather reached her hands out and the bus lifted up.

A Helicopter she hadn't noticed flew over her head, It opened up, a man showed his face, He had a dark complexion, he was strong. He pulled out a rifle of some sort, got heather in his cross hairs, and fired. She watched as they flew away. She watched Heather’s eyes roll to the back of her head. Heather was fighting this, and making it worse. Her eyes closed at that moment. She lay there. The bus fell sideways to a horrifying stop.

She was startled back into reality with the sound of the door behind her opening. The light was shining. She only saw the shape of a female walking into the house. Wind blew from behind, as the door was forced shut. Leaves were rustling around the foyer. She was looking at the shoes of the woman in front of her. She wore Black converse with white laces, green corduroy skinny pants, and a white t-shirt. This woman had a nice sense of style.

It took her a moment. The face of the woman was familiar. She had darker toned skin, with longer face, a nose piercing, and a smaller sized pointy nose. What made her realize what she was looking at was the brown, wavy hair. She was looking at herself.

She asked the obvious question, “Where did you come from?” She didn't want to sound stupid.

Heather replied with exactly what she thought she would say “Hanging out, you know.”

“I really have no clue actually. I was just watching me, or you, or whoever it was, in a memory of mine. As though it was a movie! That’s not normal” She wondered if wherever she was sleeping, if she was sleep talking.

The other heather walked over to the kitchen, and opened the cupboard, “Why is the tea always gone?” She was disappointed with this, well, they both were.

“I need some coffee, or something to get me thinking.” She walked over to the coffee maker, conveniently already brewed fresh coffee. “Would you like some?”

The other Heather nodded, “Yes please, with cream, no sugar.”

“I know how you like it.” She said, smiling. She kind of liked this whole idea. She looked out the window, there was a field covered in tall grass, all leading up to a dead, tree.  There was someone next to it, a man, in a black tux, bow-tie, and a mask?

“Heather, hand me the camera, please.” She said this with urgency. She wasn't sure about this.

The camera was in her hands, in no time. She zoomed in on the character, who seemed to be getting closer to the window, seemed to know she was there. She focused on the mask, the white mask. And diagonally painted in red was the word “Fear.” It was working. The masked, man seemed to be moving toward the window at a slow pace, but he wasn't moving his legs. He was gently moving over the ground, as though hovering. This scared Heather, and Heather. They both panicked.

She felt a pull, a tug, as though she was on the end of a rope, a dog collar. She started to get dizzy beyond belief. Actually, everything that’s happened has made this dizziness feel refreshing, a normal feeling. Everything started to fade out. The other Heather was in a corner of the kitchen, sitting on the floor hugging her knees. She was crying. Banging on the window is the last thing she could take. Heather started screaming “GO AWAY! PLEASE!” She was sobbing. The sound of shattered glass behind her was the sound that queued her.

She was lying on the floor of a dark void of emptiness. There was nothing she could do to assist Heather with the horrors from above, or down below. Where was she? Where is she? Who is she, Heather? Who is Heather? She had so many questions, and as far as she knows she is lying 50,000 feet above sea level, on a cliff in Sweden. She knew so much about Heather, but she knew nothing about herself. She needed questions answered now. And she didn't’t know who to trust. Not even herself. 

When death is crowned: Heather's beckoning

Rushing through the dry grass of the valleys, she realized then she should’ve taken her car. She had been running for at least an hour now. She stopped to check her cell phone, battery almost dead, she had only been running for ten minutes, of course. She couldn’t keep running. Her heart was beating like a tribal drum, and the cramps were getting to her head. She knew they’d be on her tail in a couple minutes. Maybe if she stayed low, they wouldn’t see her.

She her heard loud thumps coming her way. She kneeled down into the towering grass, hearing the thumps getting closer and closer. She could hardly see through the grass. But she could see one of the men coming straight for her, oblivious. She had a moment to plan for retaliation, she already decided she would. She had no idea what she was doing, but whatever it was, it needed to be quick, swift, quiet, and she knew none of those.

THUMP, THUMP, THUMP…

They stopped. She couldn’t see them, she had no idea where they were. But the silence is worse than the loud thumps pounding down her spine. She was breathing loud; she held her breath, hoping to be able to hear them. Her heart was beating louder than ever, that was a bad idea. She let go and started breath, apparently too loud. Cause one of them had his arms around her neck, and had her hands tied up before she could resist. They put a ragged white cloth over her mouth, chloroform. She was out in a split second. She was in trouble.

                                                                _____________

Heather was hot, sweating, and suffocating. They took the brown paper bag off her head, she was on a metal folding chair in, small, dark, kitchen.  There were two men sitting in the living room on the other side of the house. She spoke.

“What’s going on? Why did you take me?”

One of them stood, and breathed. He wore a Flanner checkered shirt, tucked in, boot-cut jeans, He was your stereotypical cowboy impersonator.  After he slowly made his way around the kitchen table, he stood in front of her. He spoke.

“Heather is your name. I know who you are and I know you’re past, far better than you do. My name is Trevor Volting. And I will be your best friend, and protector.”

She had no idea what he was talking about. He is Honest at least. She figured she’d say something or ask a question,“Protector, from what? And why are we here? Where are we?”

He halted her just in time for the door to creek open. A man walked in, he seemed about as lost as her. She read his name tag, it said “Timothy Shelfer”  He’s short.

Trevor spoke “Timothy, I am not your enemy, I’ll assure you that. This is your cousin.” He motioned at her. She was more lost then ever.

She panicked, starting to fidget with her necklace “Cousin? Answer my question. What are you protecting me from?”

“He’s your cousin. Trust us. But first we need to focus on getting out of here. Heather. Stand up. Long story short, our country is about to get into a war that is bigger than we bargained for. They don’t know it yet. But you will be the key to victory for the United States.”

“A key,  Great. I've lived my whole life I had a future. And here I learn from complete strangers, that I’m a freaking key.”

Tim spoke up for the first time, “Heather, calm yourself. The country is going to be forced into a situation where they will need you. It’s a supernatural thing. I know you don’t believe in super powers. But you have them. I have them. It’s in our genes”

Yeah right. These guys were loaded with a bunch of crap. This so called ‘cousin’ of hers is sitting here trying to convince her that she has superpowers? This whole thing is extremely crazy. Then again, it sounds pretty fun. If they think of her as some kind of God, She might be able to make a fortune. What the heck. She might as well…

She put on her best negotiation face “How much are you willing to pay?”

Trevor spoke without hesitation “You’re life, how does that sound?”

With that, it’d be stupid to say no. So she said with hesitation “…Sure, what the heck. I have nothing better to do.” 

He sighed deeply while turning around and looking at one of his guards. He had a gun in his back pocket. Who does that? She stood up and went to the sink, to wash her hands. No water, great. She turned around and looked at Trevor, who was now in the living room, talking to both of his little henchmen.

She spoke loudly, annoyingly, and with power, “So when do you start?”

He turned and stared at her with eyes of hope, “We start as soon as we get a hold of the government, I’m hoping we can get these things figured out before the Germans come to capture-“ But she couldn't listen to his words anymore, she couldn't keep her eyes off the glowing orange light that was just outside. Before she knew it, the house was caving in on them, and the ground was falling beneath them. She couldn't see Trevor, but she didn't care. All she cared for was her own safety.  She could only come to one conclusion while she was running outside of the house. The world had declared war on her, and she can only choose one side. And that side right now, was herself.

A tremor shook the earth underneath her while she was running across the street. She fell to her knees. A school bus was driving right for her. Getting closer, and closer, everything around her was going wrong all at once. And she couldn't do anything. She only wished that she could survive this, or did she? The school bus had no intention of slowing its terrifying pace. She reached out her hands in a last ditch effort the save herself. The bus was nothing short of ten feet from her, when it lifted off the ground.  It was floating along with her hands, as though she was controlling it. Everything around her seemed to have paused. No noise was being made, as though time had been completely stopped. She looked around to see Trevor under a pile of rubble. She hadn't seen Timothy since a few seconds ago in the house, when everything was normal, or more normal. Something struck her neck. She felt no pain, but she blacked out. There was an empty hole in her head, a gap that was incompletely filled, a massive void of subconscious. She was watching herself run out of the house; a straight path of blue light was circling in front of her, shielding her from harm.  She was supernatural.  And then, black. 

When death is crowned: Intro to Timothy Shelfer

Timothy Shelfer, was one of the of the United States best undercover agents. At a towering five feet, five inches, he was pale as a vampire.  Weighing in at 260 pounds, makes up for it in muscle. He put down his pen, signing his name for the hundredth time this morning, he’s only been clocked in for half an hour. Leaning back, thinking about his tiny office, he just moved into it from a cubical a week ago. His phone startled him. Strange, He wasn't easily scared. He reached forward and picked the phone up out of its cradle, took a breath, and spoke.

“Timothy’s office, this is…Timothy”. He said this awkwardly. Somehow he made it to be a field agent. 

A lower voice spoke “Tim, we have your cousin captive. We know what you do, and we know what you’re capable of. Find us and we can negotiate” this voice was muffled. He had no idea who this was. So he asked the obvious question.

“Who is this?”

“Timothy. We know your intelligent, so just find us.”

Tim had no idea what was going on. He had control of his life. Everything was going right, he had a girlfriend, Susan. Who was an amazing girl, always lifted him up, and moved him forward. She was beautiful in his eyes. He had a well-paid Job. A Running car, it was paid for. Everything was going for him. This phone call pulled him out of his comfort zone, threw him in some mud, and kicked him in the face a few times. He forgot he was still on the phone.

“Look I don’t know what you’re talking about, I don’t have a cousin. And-“

The voice interrupted “Her name is Heather Shelfer. Ring a bell?”

Timothy was speechless, this made his skin crawl. “I don’t have any cousins…that I know of”

“Look Tim…” This bothered him. No one calls him Tim. “… We've done the research. What did you Mom tell you about your Dad’s murder?”

Timothy thought this was getting strange, but he answered. “My mother told me that My Dad was murdered alongside my uncle…why?”

“Your uncle’s name was Teddy Shelfer. He was a private investigator. He worked for only those who offered the right price. He was a bounty hunter. But Tim, your uncle was married, he was murdered during his wife’s pregnancy, who died during the birth. But the baby survived.”

This was news to Timothy. He has a cousin. He was starting to question the evil in this phone call. “So how old is this cousin? Is it a ‘He’ or a ‘she’? are you going to hurt-“

The voice interrupted again, how rude, “You have exactly forty-eight hours to be walking in this room, or we will pump her full of cyanide. It will be easy. The clock starts now” Timothy sat there in his suit, lounging in an office chair, realizing he has a cousin in captivity. He needed to save her. He spoke back into the phone 

“I’ll be there, you can count on it” But he realized that he was talking to nobody.  “How rude!”.

Just then his secretary walked in, she looked nice today. Sandra was a short, darker toned, brunette. She walked smoothly up to his desk, with an envelope in her hands. She set it down gently.

“Someone just delivered this, for you. They said you’d better open it, its ‘urgent” She said it in quotation marks, in a lower voice.

Reading it out loud he was taking it all in “You will find us in your home, we made sure your girlfriend won’t be coming for the dinner date. So you can come in with no one else. Sit down at a table with us and we can discuss the matters.”

Sandra had a puzzled look on her face, he tried covering it. “It’s just a joke from a friend. Don’t worry about it. But I need to go.” He stood grabbing his suit coat and putting it on, trying to stay cool. He started making his way past her. Once he got past the wooden door he started running, down the hallway, to the elevator. He smashed the ‘down’ button enough times to please his conscious. The doors opened finally, and he got in and pressed the ‘Ground Floor’ Button. He was whispering under his breath.

“I am Timothy Shelfer. I am five foot, five. I am a 38 years old. I don’t have any parents, I don’t really care one way or another. But one thing I do care about, is this cousin of mine, that I have never met. And I hope that I will be able too. Cause I am a good person.”

                                                 

                                                                       1.2

Timothy was wrong. He was not a good person. He spent his childhood in foster homes bullying the kids in school, two of the kids committed suicide. Once he got to high school, he got involved with Drugs, drinking, and sex. When he was 19, he robbed a convenience store with his friend. When the cops showed up, he grabbed the money, shot his friend in the knee, and took off running. He spent that night in an alley along one of the side roads in New York City. He made a hobby out of making friends and then betraying them. He made money while doing that. And that’s all that matters.  At the age of 23, his reputation came back to bite him. A group of friends who he betrayed found him, raided his apartment, and beat him. A few of them stayed up later to turn him into the cops, where he stayed for 8 years. He was released early for good behavior.  When he got out he was 31 years old. He then joined the military. He quickly worked his way up the ranks. They saw potential in him; at the age of 34 they asked him to be a field agent. He agreed. He had organized a few, clean, successful, assassinations on terrorists. He had become something great. He is a hero. But one thing he had learned, is that you’re enemy’s define who you are. But he, Timothy George Shelfer, had crowned death herself. 

To: You. From: Suffering

So I'm working the Mc Donalds drive-through today. This lady gave me a flyer. It wa about suffering. And how we neeed go take hold of it and fix it. I open it up. And it has this crap about seeing doctors about suffering. And what you can do to get away from suffering.

Well here's a reality check. Suffering has beem since Eve took a bite of that apple. It will probably remain till the end of humanity as we know it.

And another check. Suffering is something that can be cured, yes. But not by a doctor, theripest, of psychologest. But by our only true God...God! Seriously. He is the only way. Always. Especially when he knows whats going on in your life.

So yes, Mam. I would love to end suffering. But its not something im willing to fly over millions of suffering americans. To get to a foreign country, to help them. I know they appriciate it. But I find it hipocritical.

Not to be selfish. But rape victems, murderers, thieves, and other people who need help, are all in our very own backyard. Its just harder to find them, cause we're america...and we're to afraid to admit that we need help