(Ammended version)Stalking? Witnessing? Either way, a myriad of dysfunction.

*You are now reading the amended version. I hope I took out the parts that alluded to my horrible pride - the worst of all sins, lest you think I am trying to make light of it. Making light of my atrociousness was never my intention. Making fun of my inability to turn away from, yet thinking/acting like I have, that which I do not want to do and be, was my intention, however I guess that's just as offensive. I should probably start a new post about it instead of going on and on about it here on this post. Sorry. Again.

We had our weekly homeschool co-op today and someone brought to mind a story I realized I never shared with you all. So if you are in my co-op, you can skip this one. It is, of course as all my stories are, of utmost importance. Well that part may not be entirely true.





I told you about the trip to North Carolina. You remember - the one where I got a ticket for speeding and Brandon got free lunch for speeding. Oh no, I'm not bitter, just recalling the facts for you.





So anyhoo, my very kind aunt and uncle were nice enough to let us come stay at their beach house with them. Now, supposedly, none other than Richard Gere has a beach house on this very island. I know! Woooooo.





Well, of course, I being all holy and good and stuff am thinking about how I am going to witness to Rich, he is going to love Jesus.





Naturally I use all my free time circling his house on the bike waiting to see if he comes out. Now I know what you unholy people are saying - that is called stalking. That is exactly what the policeman told me. But that is because you just don't care at all about this man's soul.




I mean I am sorry, but any man that God created with hair that good is meant to be on television telling the world how much Jesus loves them. That is just a fact.





Well thanks to satan worshiping neighbors who kept running me off, I never got a chance to bless ol' Rich.



Come to think of it, I didn't have the pants. Maybe I needed the pants. The pants make me more successful.



dysfunction

I guess I won't get to go this year. Aunt Mama Hen and her brood is going, but I've got dibs on Richard!




Oh, I mean, um, you know, the Holy Spirit probably won't be prompting her the way I was being prompted, so she really shouldn't worry about it.