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Originally posted by Leaf:

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Originally posted by Laura:
Footprints is a truly awful piece of writing.

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Footprints is improved by this emendation:

The Lord said, "You seemed a bit down,
so I thought we'd hop on one foot for a while."

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Originally posted by Schroedinger's cat:
No longer Kim Jong Il, now he's Kim Jong Dead.

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From this year's Death Pool.

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Jasmine, little cat with a big heart.

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Originally posted by Gee D:

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Originally posted by Enigma:

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Originally posted by comet:

sucks to be human.

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Yes it does for all sorts of reasons - praying for all in every situation. May Our Lord who knowss what it's like and knows that it sucks be with all giving comfort, hope, strength and encouragement through whatever life throws at us. But with thanks to Him for the good times too.

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Our Lord was incarnate and knows the frailty of human flesh. May he give you the strength to bear this attack and to emerge the stronger for your struggle.

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Originally posted by Adeodatus:
Right here, right now, you know what I would do if I had a time machine? I would go to Calvary. And I would wait for that moment, that instant, when he realised that Sky Daddy wasn't going to come and save him. When he didn't scream "Have you forsaken me?" but "Why have you forsaken me?" When he felt, like a knife in his guts, the knowledge of what God does to his creation every second of every day: he leaves it to sink in the shit.

And that would be good. It would be good to hear God's own Son scream those words. Because for some of us those are the words we scream at God every single day of our miserable fucking lives.

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Originally posted by Moth:
I think that we are most ourselves at our best, because that is what God intended us to be. The us we really like, the us that others love to be with. In this fallen world, some of us struggle to be that person for more than a few fleeting minutes, and some of us manage things better - or perhaps are just more fortunate.

Really, there are no monsters, only humans in despair and confusion and rage. Who would not choose to be happy and brave and good, if we only could? That we so often appear to choose otherwise shows how broken we are.

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My precious child. During those periods of trials and tribulations, when you see only one set or footprints, it was then I was off hiding the fucking butter knives.

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Originally posted by fletcher christian:
... or being sat on by a carefree cow in a stable while Mary was getting cleaned up and while Joseph was in a corner contemplating making a run for it. But no, thank God it didn't happen that way, but it could have.

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If what happens to us in this life doesn't matter, then IMHO we don't matter. We're just God's battered action figures--bent, chipped, left to melt in the back window of the car. Not loved into being Real, as the Velveteen Rabbit was. Not collectable. Not even good enough to repair.

[....]
Give me a God who loves, and cares, and feels, and dives down into the muck and beauty of our world to help us transform it and ourselves. Even if the involvement is of the parent-of-a-toddler type: "C'mon, sweetie, you can do it, oops, YES! Oops. Oh, frack, you broke the lamp. Ok, c'mon, get back up...you can do it".

Give me a God who loves us enough to make sure we all get Home.

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Originally posted by Sparrow:

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Originally posted by comet:
Christopher Hitchens.

gone to the Great Big... oh, wait.

I think we can pray for his soul anyway. a very good writer.

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"Good evening, Christopher. I think you and I need to have a little talk."

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Originally posted by QLib:
Shit happens. It happens irrespective of the existence (or otherwise) of whatever god you do or don't believe in.

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I like to refer to the Circumcision/Holy Name informally as "Brissmas".

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Originally posted by Paddy O'Furniture:
Here's a doozy from my pastor (might soon be my ex-pastor...), talking about masturbation: "My father told me that it was a sin to spill my seed upon the ground so I masturbated and shot my wad onto the ceiling!" This was entirely waaaaaay too much information and he told it to me when he first met me... I guess he figured that since he's Gay and I'm a lesbian, I wouldn't have any problems with him disclosing such... uh... details... but I was appalled and grossed out. I don't think I ever said anything to him at the time because I was so shocked that someone would say something like that... and a pastor, no less.

He always says sh*t like that which is one reason I think he and I will be parting company soon.

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Originally posted by Silver Faux:
Surely he will soon run out of things like that to say, Paddy; I mean, there are only so many places that it could land.
I hope.

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Originally posted by Sioni Sais:

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Originally posted by Sir Kevin:
I really fecking hate it when they ask your opinion about bad quizzes! This is an opinion, not a fact, and calls for a value judgement. I should have been seventh. The dumb shit who wrote the question, that piece of excrement, should be banned from writing any more. I could go on...

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Well, you've seen the answer, now you know what to do!

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Maybe I’ll die and that’s it. I’ll admit that as a purely scientific possibility. But I really doubt it. Heaven beats in my chest and runs through my veins, I can already hear the music, I can almost feel the warm embrace of my Lord, the peeling laughter of His final triumph, when He has made me to be in His image. From this peak I can see the far more glorious peak in the distance. I don’t like the valley I must cross to get there, and I may loose sight of that peak as I descend into the valley’s darkened depths, but I have the Psalmist’s comfort and my Lord’s reassurance.

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On a bad day if feels like I am worshipping the worship leader while Jesus skulks behind a pillar

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Originally posted by Martin PC not & Ship's Biohazard:
You can rely on me Qlib, to boldy go, splitting infinitives, hijacking language. In God - Love - goodness and greatness are ONE.

I certainly haven't a whit of wisdom to discern where the world, the flesh and the Devil begin and end and I KNOW God is completely pragmatic so I couldn't care less whether Satan's real or not, the myth is meant. As Karl Barth knew, reprobation is a dread possibility. We can fight to sit alienated, autonomous in Hell with the door kicked in from the outside if we want. In theory. To deny that mythic, abstract possibility is to be heterodox. Is to deny freedom. God can't do that.

A bold assertion! I like it. The boldness that is. The assertion is ... vacuous indeed! (Rhetoric, old thing, rhetoric. What we're doing.). We're in Him. And yes He's in us. But a tad more constrained than when He was just in His own meat.

We NEED to know Him. Invoke Him. ALL the time.

In a paraphrase if not parody of Russell, I agree, it's inappropriate to question God's existence. To ask the OP.

He IS.

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Originally posted by Pyx_e:

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Originally posted by RooK:
If I had once been nailed to an upright by a bunch of sheeple, I'd be hiding behind a structural feature myself if I accidentally found myself in their midst.

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Tsk, his daddy did a switcheroo and fixed it even better. Which is why I’m trying to get to know the guy but all these faux x-factor wannabes are making me long for a machete. And running amok with machetes makes the baby Jesus cry. So step back jack and let the Evo’s defend the indefensible, they don’t need your tangential nihilistic BS to confuse and/or help them.

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My problem is that I tend to mix and match memories. Something like:

In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth and here comes Edward Bear down the stairs, bump, bump, bump, on the back of his head behind Christopher Robin. This must be distinctly understood, or nothing wonderful can come of the story I am going to relate...

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Prophets tell the truth. They tell the truth compulsively. They might sometimes try not to, but they just can't help it.

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Originally posted by Chorister:
I knew they'd got it all wrong when they told me it was all about whether you were a big-ender or a little-ender. NigelR puts us right:

He's basically a good chap, but for the the fact that he belongs to that heretical brand of the denomination that believes when the seven angels sound their trumpets on the last day, they will sound them in ascending order of the musical scale, instead of the true version we hold that it will be a descending scale.

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'Shit on you,' Richard said. 'You don't have to talk to me like that. I'm sick of you being so high and mighty. I know I'm going up the ladder, wherever it is. I probably have a fever of a hundred and five, but I know I'm going up that ladder. I just don't know if I can take it. So to hell with you.' Richard had uttered this entire speech with his eyes shut. He effortfully forced both eyes open again. 'Nuts.'

'I need you,' Jack said.

'Nuts. I'll get up the ladder, you asshole.'

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Originally posted by Barnabas62:
Enforced metanoia is a contradiction in terms. "He that complies against his will is of his own opinion still." The folly of manipulation in a nutshell.

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Originally posted by Dafyd:

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Originally posted by Freddy:
I am still trying to grasp the enormity of the numbers involved here.

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You mean enormousness. Unless you're trying to say that posting 50 000 times to the Ship is a moral abomination.
Possibly it is. There may be a frequently missed bit in Leviticus about it, hidden between the shellfish and the buggery.

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Speaking as an old-hand aunt and godmother, I would say that the first thing the parents will want is for you to recognise the uniqueness, beauty and intelligence of their offspring, and to always be struck by and admiring of the aforesaid amazing attributes. Ditto about their stamina and parenting skills. Baby sitting would probably go down well too.

Don't forget, though, that as the offspring gets older, your allegiance shifts more directly to the child. Then your job is to give them the things that their parents don't - whoopee cushions, silly putty and the like. You should also have them to stay and allow them to stay up all night playing computer games and watching mildly unsuitable stuff on iplayer, and to live on chocolate, because it won't hurt them for a short time, and it will make you the coolest uncle ever (or aunt - shouldn't make assumptions based on your avatar!)

You will then have earned the right to give them advice when they really need it and their parents, however wonderful, are the last people they will turn to.

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If someone finds that the help fitting (meet) for them happens to be of the same sex, how is this comparable with alchoholism, to be controlled?

Are they supposed to go to HA, and stand up, and say "My name is Adam, and I am a homosexual, and this is my 4532nd day without a loving glance over the breakfast table, a hug when I feel down, someone to share my thoughts with, and laugh with, any touch at all"?

Expletive that.

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"This is a response to the argument that God is so holy that he cannot bear the presence of sin, and so must send those who will not be cleaned by accepting Christ to eternal torment in hell.

I am the sort of Holy who is born as you are born, borne from the lesser kind, from the place some think the gate of hell.
I am the sort of Holy who becomes a baby, demanding and dirty, dependent on your care.
I am the sort of Holy who grows as you grow, eating and drinking, coughing and sneezing, totally human.
I am the sort of Holy who shows that the only Holy place is not in the Temple, where only one priest may go, as heathens think.
I am the sort of Holy who shows you I am with you always, in all that you do, who becomes your Temple.
I am the sort of Holy who tears down the curtain between the Holiest place and you.
I am the sort of Holy who asks you not to think the only Holy place is Heaven, for Heaven is with you now.
I am the sort of Holy who comes out of Heaven’s Holiness, to bring Holiness to you.
I am the sort of Holy who will not be set apart, who call myself “Emmanuel”.
I am the sort of Holy who seeks out the outcasts, the sinners, the despised.
I am the sort of Holy who hunts down the lost, the set apart, to bring them in to Me.
I am the sort of Holy you will meet in the hungry, the sick, the prisoner, the refugee.
I am the sort of Holy you will meet in the givers, the healers, those who care for others, no matter where they come from, what they believe.
I am the sort of Holy who submits to torture, takes your pains upon Himself.
I am the sort of Holy who dies as fallen men die, a death some think damns all who suffer it.
I am the sort of Holy before whom Hell is meaningless and empty.
I am the sort of Holy who shows you at the end that life was worth it, that I cannot be gainsaid.
I am the sort of Holy who knows no boundaries, not death, not Holiness, but Love.

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Originally posted by Martin L:
...and special credit goes to the hosts and admins for being able to spot an 'odd' post at all in Eccles!

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Originally posted by Timothy the Obscure:
Yeah, I thought "Damn--73 points, and I dropped her from my list because I thought she got her shit together..."

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This was such a blatant quotes file bid that I almost decided not to dingnify it with a response. Almost. :

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Originally posted by QLib:

Men, eh - can't live with them, can't bury them under the patio.

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Originally posted by Eliab:

*** Harry Potter references work fine. We had the Good Samaritan reading - "Who were the Samaritans?" "Basically, the Samaritans were Mudbloods."

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Originally posted by Josephine:
It's not your job to separate the wheat from the tares, the sheep from the goats. Someone else has that job already. I think you can trust him to do it well when it's time.

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Originally posted by Hedgehog:

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Originally posted by rugasaw:
Meow meow meow meeooow. Mew, meow purr purr meow. Meeeeow meooow meow meow mew. Purr purr purr meow purr. meow mreorw. Meow meow meow mew mew meow.

Pepper (rugasaw's owner) Emphasis added.

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Surely you meant "meow mew mreorw." Otherwise, this makes no sense at all.

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