Giving Away

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Did you ever read The Giving Tree? It’s a children’s classic and written by a fantastic writer.

I truly hated this story.

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Feeding Frenzy

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pigeon

(Fair warning: If birds freak you out, then click here to watch some carrots dance.)

A few years ago, I worked the 3am-1pm shift of my job. Waking up while most of the city was still sleeping meant I was a poster child for sleep deprivation, but I dealt with it by drinking plenty of caffeine. However, being hungry felt absolutely worse than being half asleep on my commute home (don’t worry; I take public transportation). I rarely had time to get anything to eat for lunch, so I was always famished by the time I got home.

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Lock and Key

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(Fair warning: I talk about vulnerability and God in this post.  If the topic is not to your liking, here’s a link to a video of a bunny eating raspberries.)


 

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“To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything, and your heart will certainly be wrung and possibly be broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact, you must give your heart to no one, not even to an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements; lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket — safe, dark, motionless, airless — it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable. The alternative to tragedy, or at least to the risk of tragedy, is damnation. The only place outside of Heaven where you can be perfectly safe from all the dangers and perturbations of love is Hell.” – C.S. Lewis, The Four Loves

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Good to Great

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(First, a major congratulations to Brant Hansen on his new job as “Storyteller” with CURE Hospitals! I know he’ll be brilliant at it and CURE is such a fantastic organization; they heal kids, the ABSOLUTE least of these, in the name of Jesus. If you want to learn more about CURE, click here. If you want to read Brant’s blog or listen to his podcasts, click here. Second, I had a hard time coming up with this week’s blog post but, then, I had a conversation with a friend this weekend that helped inspire what you’re about to read.)


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“Nice essay, Cindy!”

These were the words that greeted me when I opened up an e-mail alerting me that my instructor had reviewed my most recent essay.  Those words were truly unexpected.

For as long as I can remember, my writing has always been praised.  I rarely received anything lower than a B on my research papers, essays, and articles.  The exceptions to this were the two creative writing classes I took in college.  Though I love telling stories and thought I was a good writer, the red ink of my teachers’ pens told me otherwise.  I did well in both classes, after MUCH hard work, but I had my reservations of whether I had what it took to become a novelist.

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