Monday, August 25, 2008

My Hero

Feedback, please! This is an essay that is going in for a scholarship application. I want to know if you like it or not or if you have any pointers. :)


“Greater love has no man than this, that a man lays his life down for his friends.” John 15:13-- A hero in it’s truest form.

Unless someone in their act of heroism is willing and ready to die, that person, to me, could never be a true hero. The soldiers that are overseas in the armed forces are true heroes; these men and women are willing to fight to the death for the sake of their countrymen. Even the classic action figures of Spiderman, Superman, Batman, and others could all be true heroes if they were real. In each case of rescuing the damsel in distress, they put their lives on the line.

The story that I am about to tell you is the story of my hero. This hero sacrificed his life not for one person or even a whole country, but for the sake of the entire world. Maybe you have heard of him; I’m almost positive that you have. But, if you haven’t, then I’m glad that I am telling this
story because he can change your life…


A crowd had gathered on the Via Delarosa that was much larger than normal. This was a strange crowd. Some people were laughing and jeering at what was at the center of attention; others were weeping. This strangeness drew my attention and I advanced, soon engulfed in the mass.

With the hustle and bustle of the people, I suddenly found myself near the front and I could see what the commotion was about. There, surrounded by Roman soldiers, was the man. His skin was bloodstained from head to foot and there was a makeshift crown of thorns that looked as though it had been pounded into his scalp. The soldiers around him were forcing him to carry a huge, heavy cross made of filthy planks. After the man struggled and could no longer stand, the soldiers yanked an innocent bystander from the mass and shoved him under the heavy monstrosity. The horror of this sight was almost too much to bear; I could feel the hot tears streaming down my face.

The soldiers led the man, the cross, and the bystander along the road to a hill which was called Golgotha, the place of the skull. They nailed the man to the cross. How could they? I had to ask myself; I could not understand.

Then I read the sign that was nailed to the top of the cross, “This is Jesus the King of the Jews.” Jesus, the carpenter’s son. I could not believe it. He was perfect; completely blameless. He had committed no crime. All that he did was good. Why was he up there? He was doing that for me.

As he hung on that cross and drew out his final breath, Satan, the enemy, thought that he had won. God’s only hope for the salvation of the world was dead. Little did Satan know that God had more up His sleeve; He sent Jesus to set the captives free from the chains of death. And to prove that Jesus was the Son of God, He rose again in three days. Satan was defeated.

When Jesus died he took every sin ever committed by the world upon himself and he took the punishment for them all. He suffered unto death for those sins in place of you and me. All we have to do is admit that we have sinned and ask for his forgiveness and we can be guaranteed that we will live for eternity in heaven with him.

Now, that’s love. That’s a hero if I ever saw one.

Tuesday, August 5, 2008

My Life Was Busy...

...But now it isn't for a few days. I wish I wasn't sick. That would make my few days of non-busy-ness much more enjoyable. A snuffly nose and sore throat do not contribute to my happiness.

I was gone for too long! (Any amount of time over a weekend is too long to be away from home.) I went to this Colonial Encampment (CE) thing with my dad for four days. Unfortunately we had to leave on the most fun day of the encampment and miss the potluck and awards and all that good stuff. Who knows? Maybe they would have even figured out another excuse to have me arrested. The point is that I missed it all because I had to go to music camp. I got home and left the next morning for Oregon.

Mom visited my Auntie Kat while I got to learn some pretty cool stuff from master musicians. (Boohers, Voetbergs, Daniel Carwile, Hanneke Cassel, just to name a few...) We had so much fun. I swear that I played my fiddle every day in that whole week more that I ever have in one week before. My brain was on overload; I don't think that I could have fit in one more song. I am so glad that they recorded a DVD of all that was taught or I would forget it all. It was a wonder that I could even play three of the songs for the concert night. Even still, the camp was definitely worth every penny.

So, now we're finally home. And we're leaving again on Friday for a fiddle contest. Then my schedule is clear. Woot!

P.S.
I really hope that Mallory will be able to grace us with her presence sometime in the near future. I haven't seen her for so long. I miss you, Mallory!