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This was not originally written for the 100 Theme challenge, however it fitted point four, and I realized it would work well with it.


She watched him from a distance; her thoughts knotting into a tangled mass as she tried to interpret what she saw in the man. Pondering... her mind attempted to envelope his character; to comprehend what it was about him that made him the way he was. How she wished she could unravel the confusion that clouded his soul, so that she could gaze into it and understand.

Such darkness... at first glance, one would not know it existed in him. On the outside he smiled, he laughed; he seemed happy. His life was a righteous one: he loved God, family, and revelled in hard work. He was highly creative, bringing his own uniqueness and style to everything he touched. He genuinely cared for people; had many friends who looked up to him. He was one of those people you meet and take an instant liking to. How did the darkness find room to exist? She thought to herself. Where had it come from?

She didn’t know him. Not really. The man was merely an acquaintance; someone she talked to now and then. But she had caught a glimpse of his life. He had a wisdom that inspired not only her, but the people around him: one would always go to him with deep questions or to ask his advice on various things. And so talented! He threw himself into everything he was passionate about and always pulled them off in a spectacular fashion. He was a man to be admired for his achievements and good character.

And yet... she wasn’t sure why, but she sensed a darkness in him. It was like a black ink that threatened to permeate his life. It was mostly hidden from view, but upon observance, you would begin to see telltale trickles that crept silently into his life; staining things that he touched with its abysmal blackness. It often revealed itself through his creativity; artistic expressions that delved into dark and unbidden places... places of violent horrors and deep emotional pain. Gore and blood; heart-wrenching pain and soul-tearing anguish... all described in such vivid colour that it made one wince in empathy.

This story exceeded my 1,000 word count goal by about 200 words, but I couldn't make it any shorter. This isn't a favourite story of mine, but it's the best I could come up with for point 3 in the 100 theme challenge.

Location: Somewhere east of Tel Aviv, Israel
Time: 0530 hours
Mission: Destroy an enemy ammunition dump... at all costs.


The desecrated setting looked to have come from the pages of ancient history. Proud stone and adobe buildings, neat gardens, and narrow streets had been reduced to little more than ruins and rubble. Shepherds had probably driven their sheep to market down this lane. Now a tangle of broken thatch and rubble choked the street, making the lane impassable. Where a woman might have hung her brightly coloured rugs out of that window to beat the dust from them, now the roofless building’s single window looked like the haunted eye of something dead. Everything was silent but for the occasional rattle of a falling stone.

Could this be the kind of scene the Israelites had wrought on enemy cities during the Bible days? Abe wondered briefly.

The US military sergeant wiped the dripping sweat from his upper lip before returning his hand to the trigger of his machine gun. His left hand rubbed the safety switch of his weapon self-consciously. He knew that this unnatural silence was not right. He felt it in his bones. The many years of war he had lived through and his intense military training told him that there was someone out there... Or more than one someone...

This is a photomanipulation I did based on Psalm 45: 10&11.


Can also be viewed here.

I randomly sat down the other day to draw a picture. I decided to draw a chess piece. I've no idea why. I have always been intrigued by the quote from The Count of Monte Cristo where Edmond says, "King's to you, Fernand" so I guess this is another reason why I ended up drawing it.

The perspective didn't turn out quite right, but I left it. Also, the cross's shadow isn't correct either, but I wasn't game enough to change it.

I ended up finding a Bible verse that suited, so I was very pleased about that! Credit to the shadow and the drawing medium goes to Jacob for his help and the loan of his graphite pencils. :D


Can also be viewed here.

If you follow the highway up the coast of NSW Australia towards Queensland, following the chain of beach cities, and you happen to take a certain exit left at some point...

If you then travel rather aimlessly along this road you've turned onto, you will eventually come to a small inconspicuous turn-off that, if you blinked at that instant or looked out the opposite window, you would have missed it altogether.

However: if you were an observant driver, and were paying close attention to the tiny roads that suddenly veer off the main-way and disappear into thick scrub, and you happened to slow the car and move onto this unassuming road, you would find, over a rickety white bridge spanning a salt water river, and to the left hidden behind trees and bushes, a little yellow house.

And this little yellow house... is paradise.

When we go on holidays, we always go up to this little yellow house in this tiny unknown town on the coast. It's a very special house. It first belonged to my grandparents, and my Mum and Dad have been going on holidays there since they were Jacob's and my age. This little town has a very special place in our hearts, and my siblings and I consider it a second home, since we have been visiting it for our whole lives.

Upon our arriving, we usually contrive some form of bucket brigade, emptying the trailer of bags and boxes and dragging them inside the house. All the food from the esky is packed into the fridge, and all the clothing bags and luggage - quite literally - is chucked into the waiting arms of whichever sibling happens to be standing in the doorway. In this unorthodox manner of unpacking, it doesn't take long until the job is entirely finished and everything is in its rightful place.

Ever since I have been introduced to the blogging world, I have come across the most amazing people who run the most amazing blogs. They are Godly, uplifting, inspiring, encouraging, challenging, laugh-inducing, intriguingly written, and the many articles, thoughts, and opinions they share have encouraged me greatly. So today I felt that I should do a blog post for a few of the ones that have made a great impression on me.

Here they are:

...my best friend, sidekick, musical partner, comrade in arms: my brother Jacob! I have finally persuaded one of our computers and Jacob to sit down with me and get a recording of him playing the guitar like a pro. I have been itching for the chance to show off his incredible guitar skills (albeit, enviously!) so I am pleased to announce this is he: playing Old Town by the one and only Tommy Emmanuel.

Note: this is not a double recording - both bass and melody are played at the same time.

Amazing the friends I've made through the wonders of the internet! Christian sisters and brothers I never knew I had. Such a blessing.

Memorizing Scripture is important, and I must say I have not paid as much heed to it as I should have. However lying in bed one night not long ago, and dreaming up story plots in my mind reminded me of just how important it is. What if your memory was all that you had?

I had woken up in a cold empty house. The colour was greyscale; like the disturbing parts of a movie where the town/house is abandoned, pieces of newspaper blown across the empty landscape, posters faded and torn, shutters flapping eerily in the ghostly breeze. I remember waking up out of my bed, panicked. For some reason, I ran across the room to where a computer sat, veiled with dust. With shaking hands, and heart beating hard against my ribs, I turned on the computer and waited for it to load. As I sat there, the computer screen suddenly flashed to life, and automatically began compiling a list. I began reading down the column, and I realized it was listing all the people I knew online. A sense of horror made me jerk back in my chair, as next to each name, a red word flashed: deceased.

I leaped from the computer chair, knocking it over. Fear clutching at my throat, it's chill in my heart. I rushed for the door and out into the street. I couldn't find a living soul, no matter how many houses and shops I ran into. It was as though every single person I knew had vanished into thin air. I ran and ran, but I could find no one. I was completely and utterly alone.

Somehow I ended up standing on a street corning, hugging my Bible. It was digging into my ribs painfully, I was holding it so tight. My mind was numbed, and the pain of the edge of the Bible kept throbbing as I clutched it. Suddenly the pain slackened, and I looked down. The breeze that had been tossing the newspaper about had caught my Bible, and as I watched with ever increasing horror, my Bible began to dissolve. No matter how hard I hung onto it, my Bible began to crumble in my hands, turning to ash that the wind bore away mercilessly. The heartless whipping wind eventually whisked the last of the ash from my hands, and my arms were empty. I did not even have the comfort of Scripture to help me through this horrific disaster.

As I watched the last of the ash take to the overcast sky, my fear increased. I could not remember a single verse. All I had left was God to cling to, yet I could not recall a single promise in His Word. I had neglected to memorize it whilst I had it, and now it was gone. All that I would have had could have been inside my mind, but I did not take heed. I did not keep His Words constantly before my eyes. And now I no longer had a link to my Father in heaven. I was lost. Completely lost and alone.

The fear was something so tangible I felt it was suffocating. No, it was consuming me: I was turning to ash; I could feel the fear tearing at my very soul as I gasped...

...and woke up. I rolled over in bed; my Bible was on my bedside table. Never had it's black leather cover looked so inviting. As I turned on my lamp, the golden words "Holy Bible" leaped out at me, beckoning. I took it in my hands, opening it. And with thankfulness in my heart...

...I began to read.

We went to our town's show this weekend. (Australian equivalent to American fairs) My siblings and I have been going to the yearly show for as long as we can all remember, and our parents went as children before us! I love traditions. There is so much to see and do there, and it's very exciting!

The scent of showground food lingers in the air the second you step out of the car mixed with the smell of horses and cattle. Dust kicks up around your feet as you walk across the well trodden grass. People wander past carrying huge stuffed animals from the side ally games. Hot dog stands are dime a dozen, and music peals out of every booth. The loudspeaker blares with the sound of the announcer's voice, heralding the next event. Rides spin in crazy circles, and the screams of their riders' fill the air with excitement. It's enough to bring a grin to your face as you gaze delightedly at the multitude of sights.

We went to the pavilion first where all the art, cooking and craft exhibits were. A few of our friends won prizes for their cooking. Some of the cakes were spectacular! Even had a cake that looked like my favourite hat. I of course made a beeline for the art corner. The arts have dwindled over the years, but there were still some very beautiful pieces. Art judges make rather peculiar choices in winners, so I didn't really agree with their choices, but I loved looking at the various works and their mediums. As a pencil drawer myself, I can very much appreciate a painting since I find it so difficult. There were some gorgeous photography too. I must remind myself to enter some pieces next year... like I tell myself every year!

Here's a photomanipulation I did during some spare time on a verse I found intriguing.


You can also see it in the HolyWorlds Art Gallery. =)

Some thoughts on paper. A late night and a heavy heart coupled with a blank notebook page creates things.

Ok, so I guess I should probably explain that incomprehensible title. I am excited! Why? Because a very good friend of mine from HolyWorlds is about to publish her first book! I had the great honour and pleasure of being a test reader for Aubrey Hansen's book, "Red Rain" which is due to release tomorrow.

Second story in the 100 Theme Challenge. 98 to go...

Here is the second runner up story from the story competition. Congratulations, Ashley! Well done!

Here is the first runner up entry of the story competition. Congratulations, Jonathan!

Announcing the winning entry for the writing competition! Well done, Katie! =D

I've taken up the 100 theme challenge that was posted by Luke the Mindwielder on HolyWorlds. I'm going to attempt writing a 1,000 word short story for each subject in the list of 100 subjects. Here is my first story for the first word in the 100. This is going to be quite a ride, because I'll be trying to write a 1,000 word story a day. So I will appreciate all the critiquing you're willing to give!

A poem inspired by my dear friend, Bek.

Art (c) BushMaid

Six word story time, and a wordle.