Wow, it’s been over a year since my last post? Yeah, that’s sounds about right. I wish I could say that I’ve been hiking the Appalachian Trail or went on a ‘Round-The-World cruise on the QE3. No. I’ve just been living a quiet, dull life and writing a blog just didn’t fit. But now I feel the spirit leading me to write again.
Let’s get started….I just finished L.M. Mongomery’s, Emily of New Moon, and here’s an excerpt that struck me. Discuss amongst yourselves:
“And you won’t be ashamed of me because my clothes are always queer and because I don’t believe in God?”
“No. But if you knew Father’s God you’d believe in Him.”
“I wouldn’t. Besides, there’s only one God if there is any at all.”
“I don’t know,” said Emily perplexedly. “No, it can’t be like that. Ellen Greene’s God isn’t a bit like Father’s, and neither is Aunt Elizabeth’s. I don’t think I’d like Aunt Elizabeth’s, but He is a dignified God at least, and Ellen’s isn’t. And I’m sure Aunt Laura’s is another one still – nice and kind but not wonderful like Father’s.”
“Well never mind – I don’t like talking about God,” said Ilse uncomfortably.
“I do,” said Emily. “I think God is a very interesting subject, and I’m going to pray for you, Ilse, that you can believe in Father’s God.”
“Don’t you dast!” shouted Ilse, who for some mysterious reason did not like the idea. “I won’t be prayed for!”
“Don’t you ever pray yourself, Ilse?”
“Oh, now and then – when I feel lonesome at night – or when I’m in a scrape. But I don’t want any one else to pray for me. If I catch you doing it, Emily Starr, I’ll tear your eyes out. And don’t you go sneaking and praying for me behind my back either.”
“All right, I won’t,” said Emily sharply, mortified at the failure of her well-meant offer. “I’ll pray for every single soul I know, but I’ll leave you out.”
For a moment Ilse looked as if she didn’t like this either. Then she laughed and gave Emily a volcanic hug.
“Well, anyway,, please like me. Nobody likes me, you know.”