Day 6: EMP--Reading Ecclesiastes. I totally dislike males today. I have been reading Psalms like crazy and so has everyone else in this LTS with me, and it's awesome what we've been learning. Marcus redeems his gender--bless him. It stormed so beautifully last nite. Loud. Theatrical. God loves a good show too...Later...Made team leader of the writing team. Excited, but lots of responsiblity...don't know if I can handle it on top of zip sleep and that speech...
So many things wrong in this world. Can't accept the cop out of 'change one person and it will be worth it', cuz to me, it's not. If I do not change this world, I will NOT be able to live with myself. I will NOT be able to stand before my Maker, look my Saviour--the one who went thru the ultimate injustice for me--look HIM in the eye and know that I did NOTHING to stop the injustices of my generation. Let me not be so impassioned a writer that I forget what actions should be taken. Let me not be so selfish that I deceive myself to think that I am right in doing nothing. Let me not be so ignorant that I know nothing of the pain of reality. Let me never be so weak that I cannot face what I have done wrong and change it...
Today we watched a debate. It makes me angry. VERY ANGRY. I wanted to watch it with all my Camp ppl...and yell and scream at the liberal with you all. Later I'm scared. Being a leader sucks. I think Lydia hates me. Orbitz gum is nearly a sacrament at GNFC. I am so exhausted. I must look a sight.
Day 7:EMP--Reading Red Moon Rising. Still. And it makes me want to shout. We're visiting CNN HQ today. I am excited but so tired...today I slept until 5:30 (4:30 WI time) cuz I was so tired. Being this exhausted all the time is really getting old. CNN HQ was great. After that, we visited the capitol. Speech deadlines extended. Hooray. Tomorrow I go campaigning for the future first black Republican elected into GA state congress. Now here's an excerpt from the book I'm reading.
"Suddenly I find myself in a giant hall. Surrounding me are thousands of young pppl, battered, bruised, and broken. Then suddenly, I hear a voice: "What am I bid?"
A young girl stands out before the crowd of leering, sneering men. "What am I bid for this piece of flesh?" The men start to cheer. "50" "100"
What can I do God? I start to bid. I have to save her. The cost becomes huge, and I begin to waiver. Can I afford this? What price will I pay?
The dream stops.
I'm alone again. But the faces are real enough; Sarah being sold into prostitution; Mike with a revolver in his mouth; Kat covered in cuts and bruises; John falling into crime, Laura alone and desperate; Steve heroin bulging into his vein.
"What am I bid?"
The voice shatters the silence. The auction is on again. The bidding has begun. It continues day and night until the end. Most of the bidders desire only use and abuse. Satan drives them on.
And so I find myself in the auction. Will I watch or will I bid? The price of a single life is huge. The currency is prayer...and action. The cost is massive, but the prize is glorious. A life for a life.
What am I bid?"
Scream. Cry. Sigh. Punch. Tantrum. Despair. Then hope. Maybe I can break the cycle. Maybe I can do something to make it stop. But not if I am too wrapped up in my own problems, my self, and my stupidity.
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