“I Want to Leave!”: My “A Wrinkle in Time” Experience

“I want to leave! I want to leave!” cried the young child sitting in the chair to my right. I couldn’t see his or her face. The theater was too dark. But I knew why the young child was crying. It’s because we had just reached the scariest part of the movie A Wrinkle in Time, based on the novel by Madeleine L’Engel which I read as a preteen. A creature known as the “IT” was attacking the heroine, Meg Murray. The scene was loud and frightening.

“I want to leave! I want to leave!”

This movie should sport a warning label: NOT FOR LITTLE KIDS.

Though I had some reservations about watching this movie due to the lack of Christian elements I knew had been removed, I went to see it anyway. No disrespect to those with other religious beliefs, but when Mrs. Which told Meg she needed to “become one with the universe” (definitely not a Christian philosophy) it made me want to gag. The notion that darkness is faster than light was also offered as food for thought. This idea totally clashes with the Biblical concept that God’s light triumphs over the world’s darkness.

“I want to leave,” I thought. “I want to leave.” Yet, I stayed in my seat, unwilling to move. After all, I had paid seven dollars for my ticket (thanks to the special Tuesday discount), and I was going to get my money’s worth to make up for the time I had to spend seventeen dollars to see the Thor movie because the cheaper versions were sold out.

I don’t get why they made the theater seats so fancy, by the way. Is it just in Annapolis or is that how it is all over the country? I liked the way they were before, and I wish that the Wrinkle in Time movie bore a closer resemblance to the actual book. I feel the same way about the Narnia series, but of course the production companies had to rewrite stuff to please the audience. Argh!

Anyhow, back to the movie. So, if a Christian looks at the idea of fighting darkness as “resisting the devil,” I suppose he or she can draw some merit from the Wrinkle in Time film, because in order to fight the darkness, Meg must resist it with all her might. Love is the answer to conquering darkness, and love is a powerful Christian theme. However, the Bible tells us it is God’s love, not our own, that saves us. The evil “IT” referred to in the film is supposedly THE source of evil in the universe. There is no God, no devil, no angels or demons involved, just three astral travelers, Mrs. Who, Mrs. What’s It, and Mrs. Which, who give Meg gifts to help her in her fight against the IT.

Even Meg’s flaws, which have nothing to do with sin, come in handy. They are like a blessing in disguise. The main thing she has to learn to do, however, is to “tesser,” which looks like a mix of yoga and some sort of transcendental meditation. To do it properly, Meg must close her eyes and find her “center” – not so she can hear from God (a Christian concept) but so that she can tune into the right frequency. It’s all about finding the right frequency. That’s what enables her to move billions of miles at one time throughout the universe.

The idea of astral travel is, of course, an eastern religious concept that I believe originated with God, the source of all such power. However, I don’t recall any mention of God in the movie.

I want to leave. I want to leave. Both the message and the way it is presented are too strange. I can’t stand to watch it anymore. As the final credits roll, I grab my purse, get up, and step over a batch of spilled popcorn kernels – undoubtedly a product of unhappy, whiny child wanting to go home. I feel bad for the mother, who apologizes to me as I leave the theater. I laugh it off and tell her it’s okay. I imagine she probably can’t wait to leave, and neither can I.

 

https://miracle-times.com/poetry/attempted-pay-off/

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Beating the Burden of Book Marketing

The burden of book marketing can bog down the flow of fresh ideas bursting from my fingers, because it’s like a heavy yoke (and that’s no joke). It floods the atmosphere with doubt. And so, I wrote this poem about it:

 

Goliath’s Marketing Monopoly

 

“Behold the giant standing in your way.

How will you ever get him to obey?

“Behold his stack of books is so well read

That yours cannot compete with it,” they said.

 

“You must jump through the same hoops he once did,

If you ever want to pop that stupid lid

That’s sits atop the path to your success,

The glass ceiling that’s been causing you such stress.”

 

“To fashion a best seller takes much sweat,

So with your muscles  you must lift the debt

You owe yourself regarding your great book

At which, it seems, nobody cares to look.”

 

“As an author you must form a strategy

Geared at launching your monstrosity.

Because you cannot make it fly for free,

Much grunt work you will need, most certainly.”

 

But must we heed the ogre and cave in,

Putting on his armor with a grin,

And taking all his insults on the chin?

To say he’s always right – is that no sin?

 

Had David donned Saul’s armor to slay Goliath, he wouldn’t have gotten very far. Had he tried to kill the giant with a javelin, he most likely would have missed. That’s because such weapons were too unwieldy for him. He hadn’t tested them. Instead of approaching Goliath the same way Goliath approached him, with a weight of fleshly pride and a mouthful of insults, he armed himself with godly fear and a true humility. He leaned on God for wisdom and let the Holy Spirit guide his stone.

And why can’t we as authors do the same?

For example, what if we redefined success to fit the gifts and callings God gave us? What if we came up with new, out-of-the-box methods of book marketing instead of copying someone else’s version of a platform?

I am beginning to think that for me, personally, word of mouth is a better key to gaining readers than a website. That’s because people tend to take more notice of my artwork than my “smart work.”

So, why can’t I use cartoons to promote my work? I’m a whole lot better at that than trying to explain verbally to somebody why he or she should read my book.

And when it comes to writing, I value quality over quantity. And that’s what I value when it comes to marketing too. Mass mailings? I have no idea how to do them. But God has given me a passion for my message and He does answer my prayers. I believe He led me to the right publisher – speaking of which, my editor sure put up with a lot from me. After numerous edits, they sent me the proof and I found all sorts of things that needed changing.

I was like, “This part sounds strange. Why did I word it this way?”

That’s my talent, you see. I’m picky. Good clean copy tops the list of my priorities when it comes to book marketing, because if I don’t like my product, how can I convince someone else it’s a great read? Unlike my favorite extrovert who could sell the broad side off a barn (for lack of a better analogy), I simply can’t sell anything I don’t believe in. That’s why, instead of paying for a package that provided press releases, radio interviews, and so forth, I spent money on professional editing. I needed to know I had a great product before I put it out there.

Now I need to market it, and to market it I need a platform – a platform that conforms to who I am and what I’m called to do. I’ve tried socially media, but very frankly, I need more friends to make it work. So, that’s what I’m working on now. It may not be your approach, but that’s fine, because book marketing shouldn’t be a burden. It should be a joy.

“Take my yoke upon you and learn of me: for I am meek and lowly in heart: and ye shall find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.” Matthew 11:29-30, KJV

So, let’s have fun with it, shall we?

 

 

 

https://miracle-times.com/healing/believe-instant-miracles/

 

 

Forgive Uncaring Critics and Blog Hogs

Forgive the blog hog who devoured your slice of cyberspace

And stole the wondrous spot you picked as your new domain place.

Forgive the person who debunked your subtle rise to power

By gobbling up the parking place you chose for this fine hour.

 

Because they know not what they do –

       At least, not as well as you,

       Or maybe they’re just feeling rather blue.

Therefore they have no space to share with you.

So, forgive them, for they know not what they do.

And while you’re at it…

 

Forgive the critic who just gave your book a bad review,

Requiring you to work much harder five stars to accrue.

To you, his words cut deeply, though for him they might ring true.

Perhaps he had a bad day where his website went askew

And could find nothing better than to take it out on you.

 

       Perhaps he knows not what is true,

       Or what the right thing is to do.

And has no idea how his words hurt you.

Or maybe he cannot see what is true,

And therefore he has no grace to share with you.

No matter why he wasn’t kind,

Try to forgive him, for he’s blind.

      And while you’re at it…

 

Forgive the ones who said they’d read your manuscript,

But it seems somehow as if they flipped the script,

Because you never got a firm rejection slip.

And now, as a result, you feel quite gypped,

As if you once stood on firm ground but then you slipped.

 

(As the scripture says, “Confidence in an unfaithful man in time of trouble is like a broken tooth, and a foot out of joint.” – Proverbs 25:19. “However, “When I said, ‘My foot is slipping,’ your mercy, O LORD, held me up.” – Psalm 95:18).

 

So forgive them, for they know not what they do,

And perhaps, concerning friends, they have too few.

Regardless of the reason they neglected you,

You really needn’t worry, fret or stew,

But should allow God’s grace to make things new for you.

 

(“Cease from anger, and forsake wrath:  fret not yourself in any wise to do evil. For evildoers shall be cut off: but those who wait upon the LORD, they shall inherit the earth.” – Psalm 37:8-9.  “Say not, ‘I will recompense evil; but wait on the LORD, and he shall save you.” – Proverbs 20:22)

 

https://miracle-times.com/poetry/dont-bully-remember-grace/

https://miracle-times.com/poetry/sound-advice-times-crisis/

https://miracle-times.com/poetry/gods-miracle-power/

 

 

 

Christian Fantasy Breaks the Ice

For those to whom the scriptures make no sense,

Christian fantasy might help them feel less tense,

Through stories full of hope and vision bright

That shine into their darkness a fresh light.

 

Now, some people have heard throughout the years

Hard messages that left them bored to tears.

Their hearing has grown dull. Their minds are dense.

But Christian fantasy can help them off that “fence”

 

By breaking through the ice that numbs the head,

Thus, bypassing the barrier of dread

That binds a person to his own strict view

Though deep inside he knows that view’s not true.

 

Sometimes it takes bold pictures to explain

The simplest faith to an exhausted brain.

Fresh creativity, though, can ease one’s pain,

revive the heart, and make it whole again.

 

Hebrews 5:11 speaks of believers who have become poor listeners. The writer is talking to them about Jesus, “Of whom we have many things to say, and hard to be uttered, seeing ye are dull of hearing.”

 

If listeners have dull hearing, then what can interest them in the Bible?

 

There was a time in my life when I couldn’t even read the Bible. Every time I opened it, I felt condemned. I even started to wonder if I was a real Christian because other Christians seemed to be doing so much better than me. All I could see was my mistakes. I felt like I couldn’t do anything right, no matter what rhymes I tried to write.

 

No well-defined theology could help me. I was too bound up in legalism: trying to follow rules I had no ability to obey. To get free, I needed revelation from above. So, I cried out to God. Not soon after that, the Holy Spirit moved in power through my church. Surprisingly, He gave me laughter, which lifted all the condemnation off me. I felt “joy unspeakable.” It wouldn’t let me speak because I couldn’t keep from laughing. Through the joy God gave me, I finally began to understand His grace.

 

His joy inspires my writings, with Christian fantasy that’s rooted in reality.

 

Of course, I have had my share of opposition from those who don’t believe in miracles – at least, not instantaneous ones. The truth is, I’ve seen my share of instant healings done in Jesus’s name, and no one can persuade me they’re not true. However, trying to get others to believe is another matter, especially since I do not have the gift of debate.

 

I do enjoy writing Christian fantasy, however, in hopes it will inspire both children and adults to read the Bible. After all, that’s what C.S. Lewis did for me when I was young. In his Christian fantasy series, The Chronicles of Narnia, Christ is pictured as a lion. He is a good lion but not a tame lion, an allegory derived from the Bible.

 

“And one of the elders said to me, Weep not: behold, the Lion of the tribe of Judah, the root of David, has prevailed to open the book, and to loose the seven seals thereof.” Revelation 5:5

 

The Bible uses such imagery to help us understand God’s nature and His character. It is the best book we can read. But for those who have no Bible or who don’t understand it, well-written Christian fantasy may be the next best thing. For the spiritually hard-of-hearing, it may break the ice that shields their ears and give them a new glimpse into God’s character.

 

https://miracle-times.com/

https://miracle-times.com/fun/curing-freezer-burn/

 

 

 

 

 

You Can’t Get Healed Through Greed

 The healed man had some clothes that he

  Had parted with reluctantly,

Although his wife had said with dread,

“I will not have them near my bed.”

 

But he had scoffed. “What could it hurt?

Behold this fabulous T-shirt!”

“I won it on the battlefield,

And think it makes a glorious shield!”

“In such bright goods I must invest.

Believe me, dear. It’s for the best.”

 

She pointed to his furry hat.

“Such headgear makes your face too fat.

If being healed is your desire,

Then throw those garments in the fire!”

 

“They are not harming anything.

Their praises I will gladly sing,”

Said Naaman, though he had no peace.

While he pursued a sure release

From his unsightly leprosy,

His wife refused to let him be.

 

“Those smelly things reek of disease.

Please toss them NOW. Set me at ease.”

“Ah, but I snagged them at a sale.

Over the crowds I did prevail.”

 

“It isn’t Christmastime,” said she.

“Stop stalling so pathetically.”

So, Naaman set out for the dump,

but he was feeling like a grump.

The prophet lived too far away.

To get there took him half a day.

 

He started knocking on the door.

“Important man here. Don’t ignore!”

“Just wave your hand and do the deed!

Heal me, prophet, with great speed!”

 

After a while, a messenger came.

Gehazi was the servant’s name.

“If you’d be healed,” he told the man,

“then you must heed my master’s plan.”

 

Now Naaman’s insides filled with wrath

when told that he must take a bath,

Not once, not twice, but seven times.

Was it to pay for all his crimes?

 

“That insult,” he said, “I can’t bear.”

“The idiot cap, then, you will wear,”

His servants said. “Would you be healed?”

So, from his back, his robe he peeled.

He took his shirt and vest off too,

And ere he plunged into the brew,

 

Removed his shoes and socks and pants

(His underwear was full of ants).

Then in the Jordan he did dip

His naked body. What a trip!

For, even though the cure was free,

It didn’t happen instantly.

 

But as the man bathed, he got healed.

That’s how he saw God’s will revealed.

His skin, now healed, was soft and clean.

In old clothes he would not be seen.

 

His servants brought him something new.

Meanwhile, what could rich Naaman do

About the clothes he said he’d ditch,

The ones his wife told him to pitch?

 

To bury them would not be fun,

Although the sad deed must be done.

Back to the prophet he must go,

Thank him with grace, and not be slow.

He told the prophet, “Your God’s real!

I’ll worship him now. He’s the deal!”

 

Somehow, he felt that he should pay

For his healing, without delay.

But God’s man said, “You’re healed for free!”

So, he departed joyfully

 

Yet with a giant load of dirt

For burying the hat and shirt

And all his other germy clothes.

He wouldn’t be caught dead in those!

 

The outfits, used, to him weren’t cool,

And yet they made Gehazi drool.

Elisha’s servant found a way

To “steal” the guy’s old clothes that day.

 

But Naaman’s clothes spread leprosy.

Gehazi caught it easily

And from it he could not get healed.

Through greed his fate had just been sealed.

 

Now, there’s a moral to this story:

One, you must respect God’s glory.

Also, if you have a need,

Do not resort to selfish greed.

(based on the story in II Kings chapter 5)

https://miracle-times.com/resurrection/god-save-king/

God’s Miracles are Never Boring

GOD’S MIRACLES: EXCITING AND SOMETIMES FUN

God’s miracles, as depicted in the Bible, are never boring. They carry a level of excitement that far surpasses any sort of “man-made” invention. Such miracles make fun of unbelief, which is basically man’s way of saying “I’m smarter than God.”  Take, for example,  the Tower of Babel story in Genesis chapter 11.

Babel

This tale is about a group of people who decided to build a tower that would reach all the way to heaven. They did it in order to make a name for themselves, even though it made no sense. After all, they were the only ones on earth. Who were they doing it for? The Bible doesn’t tell us. But oh, what blood and sweat and tears must have gone into those bricks!

“We’re the men who won’t be moved! Ist das nicht wunderbar?”  Suddenly one man’s English became another man’s German.

“Nin hao. What did you say? Nin jiao shenme mingze?”

“No comprendo. No te olvides lo que hacemos aqui.”

One person spoke Chinese. Another chattered in Spanish. Can you picture the confused men running around like chipmunks, trying to communicate in sign language?

How ridiculous it is to go against God and think that you can win! The truth is, no one stands a chance against God’s miracles, which are like wrecking balls, thwarting evil plans. That’s what happened at Babel. Mankind’s “unification” scheme was demolished. As funny as it may have appeared, however, it can’t compare to the miracles Jesus did. For the group at Babel scattered, Jesus’ miracles brought wholeness. The healing of a crippled man is one example.

Through the Roof

People heard sawing.  Pieces of wood fell from above as the ceiling began to cave in. Then someone cried, “Look out below!”

“How a I going to pay for this?” the house owner wondered as the crippled man came into view. The poor guy lay immobile on the mat, inside that crowded house. He said nothing, but his friends expected Jesus to do a miracle.

How they must have smiled to hear Jesus tell the paralyzed man, “Be of good cheer. Your sins are forgiven”!

The religious guys wondered how he could say such a thing. To their surprise, Jesus healed the man and sent him on his way.

What if, as he picked up his mat to leave, one end accidentally smacked a  grumbler in the face?

When God does miracles, people’s rotten attitudes turn to toast. That’s what makes them fun.

God’s Sense of Humor

The idea that God’s miracles can evoke humor in the mind of those who read them is supported by scripture. Besides verses such as Nehemiah 8:10, which says that “The joy of the LORD is your strength,” and Proverbs 17:22, which states that “A merry heart does good like a medicine,” consider this passage in Psalms chapter 2, beginning with verse 1:

Why do the heathen rage, and the people imagine a vain thing?

The kings of the earth set themselves, and the rulers take counsel together, against the LORD, and against his anointed, saying,

“Let us break their bands asunder, and cast away their cords from us.”

He that sits in the heavens shall laugh: the Lord shall have them in derision.”

God’s miracles are what humble and shock His enemies. Like the nannies lined up with their black umbrellas in the movie “Mary Poppins,” they find themselves blown away – not by some strange magic but by the wind of the Holy Spirit, through whom all things are possible, if you believe.

 

https://miracle-times.com/miracles/miracles-good-fruit-persecution/

https://miracle-times.com/faith/seeing-believing/

Sly Guy

John woke up at 3 AM with a start. As he tossed the covers from his pounding chest, a wave of dizziness swept over him.

Scritch, scratch, scuffle, scuffle.

What was that?

John stuck a leg over the side of his bed. Instead of stepping into a bedroom slipper as he expected, he fell over a body.

“Ow!” What was that?

“Don’t hurt me!” yelled the man who had made him fall. It was too dark to see who it was. John felt his way to the door and flipped on the light switch. The unwelcome visitor was huddled in a ball by a corner of the bed, his brown eyes lit up with fear. His blond hair was a mess. The ragged shirt and pants he wore looked like they’d come from a dump.

“What are you doing here?” John asked.

“Just having a little snack,” the man replied, eyeing a plate full of crumbs that sat on a nearby nightstand. John could have sworn he’d seen the guy somewhere before. “Who are you?” he asked.

“Just your friendly neighborhood Sadducee,” replied the frightened man. “You can call me Sad Sam, because I’m always sad, you see. Nothing ever goes right for me and…”

“Hey, wait a minute! Haven’t I seen you in church?” John exclaimed.

Sad Sam sat up Indian-style. “Uh, probably not.”

“Yes! That’s exactly where I’ve seen you. You’re the guy who doesn’t believe in miracles. I’ve heard you say things like ‘Money doesn’t just drop out of the sky’ and ‘God doesn’t do signs and wonders anymore. He uses modern medicine and up-to-date technology to get things done.’”

Sam’s eyes darted every which way. “Well, you know, I am a down-to-earth sort of guy. Can I go now?”

“Not until you tell me what you’re doing here,” John said.

Sam shot him a plastic smile. “Having fun?”

John took a menacing step toward him. “Not likely, sad guy. Now tell the truth and maybe I won’t have you arrested for breaking into my house.”

Sam Sadducee cleared his throat. “Well, if you must know, I’ve been living in your closet for quite some time now, ever since my wife kicked me out for causing too many catastrophes. She claims the negative things I said are what caused our roof to spring a leak, the floor to collapse, both our cars to get smashed, and some stray dog to bite her in the leg. She says she’s had it with me. I didn’t know where else to go, so I climbed in the open window of your bedroom one day and decided to camp out here. It’s a lot safer than being at home.”

John shook his head. “So, you’re the one who jinxed me with all those nightmares!” He eyed the nightstand and the plate full of crumbs. “Now I know where all those crackers came from too. And here I thought my Aunt Martha left them there. She’s really sneaky and she wants me to gain weight, so it seemed like something she would do. But now I find out that all this time it was really you! I thought those crackers tasted strange. They made me sick to my stomach but I ate them anyway, just to make her happy. Oh, what a fool I was! Why didn’t I investigate the source of those rotten munchies? Why?”

“Well, maybe you would have found out if you’d bothered to actually hang your clothes up in the closet instead of leaving them lying around everywhere,” Sam Sadducee suggested. “And by the way, they’re not crackers. They’re stale pieces of bread I brought with me when I came here. They just look like crackers because the bread never rises the way I expect it to. I don’t know why. Maybe it’s the yeast. Instead of making the dough expand, like most yeasts do, it seems to suck the life out of it.”

“Just clean up your crumbs and get out of here. I’ve had it with your poisoned bread,” John said.

The end – or was it?

Jesus warned his disciples to beware the leaven of both the Pharisees and Sadducees, but He wasn’t talking about real leaven that is kneaded into real bread. He was speaking of their teaching.

For “Man does not live by bread alone but by every word that proceeds from the mouth of God.” (Matthew 4:4)

God’s words only do us good if we understand them. False teaching distorts God’s words and makes them spiritually inedible. You can get a stomach ache from bad teaching. That’s why it’s important to examine every teaching very carefully to discover whether or not it is from God.

 

 

What Made Him Change His Mind?

There once was a pharaoh who hired a cook, even though his most reliable spy had told him she couldn’t be trusted. He suspected she had swiped his favorite pomegranate pudding recipe and prepared the dish for her cat, but Pharaoh hired her anyway.

One day she was busy kneading dough in the royal kitchen. Her daughter Suzie sat close by, building a model pyramid. Suddenly she saw a flash of green.

“Sproing-a, sproing-a, sproing-a!”

“What’s that hoppity thing jumping around the kitchen, Suzie?” said the cook that Pharaoh never should have hired.

“Oh, nothing. It’s just my pet frog,” Suzie said.

“Since when did you have a pet frog?” asked her mother.

“It just hopped in through the window.”

“We are not allowed to keep frogs in the palace, so you just –”

“Rrrr-rrrr-ribit!”

“Ack! Somebody save me!” the cook screamed. The frog had just landed on her head.

“Don’t worry, Mom. I’ll catch it!” Suzie yelled.

Her mom continued to scream. “It’s tangled in my hair. Get it out, get it out!”

“Hold still, Mom. I’ll get a broom.”

“No, don’t –”

“Whack!”

“Ow!”

“Splat!” The frog jumped off the cook’s head and landed in the kneading bowl. The cook continued to scream as two more amphibians joined the party. They hopped from the kneading bowl to the cupboard, back into the kneading bowl, off the table, and then to the box from which the cook had stolen Pharaoh’s favorite recipe. Suzie was having fun chasing frogs with her broom.

“Smash!” There went Pharaoh’s famous hand-painted pitcher.

“Crack!” His delicate mosaic lamp crashed to the floor.

“Shatter!” His favorite dessert recipe, inscribed on hand-crafted stained glass, broke into a thousand pieces.

At that moment, Pharaoh poked his head through the door. “Just checking on lunch,” he started to say, just as a frog jumped in his face.

“Whack!” Suzie swung her broom right at it. “Oops, sorry. It was an accident.”

Two days later Pharaoh, his nose swollen like a balloon, was tired of having frogs hop all over him. As soon as he rid himself of one, two more would hop in his face. He hadn’t had a decent meal to eat in three days, due to all the frogs hopping into his food, jumping onto his ear, and messing up his newly shampooed hair. So he called up Moses, yelled at him about the frogs, and asked him to pray for him. Moses said he’d pray, and the frogs died immediately.

The fact that they croaked so swiftly convinced Pharaoh that his cook had poisoned them with the intent of putting them into his food and making him sick. She was trying to kill him, he told himself. So much for Moses telling him God had sent the plague of frogs! In Pharaoh’s mind, it wasn’t God. It was this cook.

Pharaoh fired her, then told Moses he refused to let his people go. After all, he was no fool. If he couldn’t find good help from this sneaky Egyptian lady, then he must stock up on foreign slaves. It was the only way he knew to save his skin.

 

 

 

Curing General Nice Ice’s Freezer Burn

Old General Nice Ice had an awful case of freezer burn.

The happy look he once bore on his face had grown quite stern.

His hair wore icicles. His cheeks, white as a polar bear,

Had lost their rosy hue and had no cheerfulness to share.

 

Stiff arms and legs bore witness to a once-soft-heart turned hard.

His lips were purple when they found him standing in his yard.

Of course they took him to Thaw Hospital to be defrosted.

But could it be too late for him? Had he already “lost it”?

 

Good doctor Cool Breeze wouldn’t touch him with a ten-foot pole.

It had to be eleven feet. The tip was very cold.

Breeze took the stiff man’s temperature and wouldn’t give it back,

For it read minus zero, colder than a frozen snack.

 

When asked to stick his tongue out, he could not even say “Blah,”

Because the freezer burn held him so tightly in its claw.

“At least it’s better than lukewarm,” the doctor stated with voice grim.

“Crank up the thaw machine and shine a beam of heat on him.”

 

The nurses rushed to do that, with a little slow success.

Soon Nice Ice could move his jaws. However, he showed signs of stress.

But now that he could talk, the doctor asked about the root,

What made him sick so that his system now required a reboot.

 

“Your freezer burn contains an ice, which shows up all your flaws.

It seems you have Pride flu. Could you illuminate the cause?

What is the last heroic deed you did before this hit?

Did someone spray hot sauce on you or throw a nasty fit?”

 

Snowflakes popped up in different places on the golden floor.

The patient’s eyes shot icicles too glaring to ignore.

“How do you dare imply such petty things could get my goat?”

The anger on his face was like the berg that sunk the boat.

 

The doctor tried again. “Please sir, I beg. Don’t be offended.

Those are the questions that my fellow doctors recommended.

It’s nothing personal, but you are in stage three denial.

Your friends don’t want to see you die.  They miss your happy smile.”

 

The general relaxed a bit. “Volcano Man. It’s he.

He spewed a stream of lava, but I froze it expertly.

It wasn’t easy. No one helped me. No one even cared.

The villain was so evil and the victims were so scared.”

 

“The helicopter I was flying, no one else could man.

No co-pilot is qualified to lend this guy a hand.

I shall not relegate such work to some unworthy slob.

I am the multi-tasker, and I did a bang-up job.

 

Through blasts of hot disgust and wild opinion smoke I steered,

While blowing freeze breath out the window, from his rants I veered.

I used my supersonic voice to tell the crowd to freeze

While I made ice of lava, but their fear it did not ease.

 

“The people were too stubborn and they would not heed my voice.

And that is why, you see, I have no reason to rejoice.

I stuck my neck out for them, but received no gratitude.

All I got from them was one big stinking attitude.”

 

“They said they didn’t like the way that I looked down on them.

‘We are not little kids,’ they said. ‘We want to be your friend.’

But who would not act better than those folks if they were me?

The fire I put out was growing exponentially.”

 

“I saved those lazy victims, but my role is now reversed.

Now I’m the one in need of rescuing and I feel cursed.

I’m sick because I just asked them to listen and obey.

But they refused. It makes me mad. This cold won’t go away.”

 

“If you’ll take my prescription, then it will,” the doctor said.

“First off, to cure this flu requires a chill pill for your head.

So ditch your disappointment. Everybody makes mistakes.

To know you’re not their Savior is the way to cure your aches. ”

 

“Rest in His finished work. That’s the best way to heal your heart.

You do not need a podium to demonstrate your art.

The warmth that you require does not depend on recognition.

What you need is a merry heart to make a smooth transition.”

 

“To think on good things, not on bad, will bring more joy to you.

To welcome co-pilots can melt the ice in which you stew.

A slice of humble pie will help dissolve your isolation

And turn your freezer burn into a wondrous ‘ice elation.'”

https://miracle-times.com/mental-health/overcome-emotional-pain-physical-pain/

 

 

 

Curing General Nice Ice

Old General Nice Ice had an awful case of freezer burn.

The happy look he once bore on his face had grown quite stern.

His spiked gray hair was frosted over like a polar bear.

His cheeks, once rosy, now had no more cheerfulness to share.

 

His arms and legs had stiffened and his once soft heart was hard.

His lips were purple when they found him standing in his yard.

His friends took him to Hero Hospital to be defrosted.

But could it be too late for him? Had he already “lost it”?

 

Good doctor Cool Breeze wouldn’t touch him with a ten-foot pole.

It had to be eleven feet. The tip was very cold.

He took the stiff man’s temperature and wouldn’t give it back,

For it was minus zero, colder than a frozen snack.

 

When asked to stick his tongue out, the poor guy could not say “Blah,”

All he could spit through gritted teeth was “I am NOT in awe.”

“At least it’s better than lukewarm.” The doctor’s voice was grim.

“Your illness didn’t come from exercising at the gym.”

 

“I see vice in your ice, which cannot cover up your flaws.

It seems you have Pride flu. Could you illuminate the cause?

What is the last heroic deed you did before this hit?

Did someone spray hot sauce on you or throw a nasty fit?”

 

Snowflakes popped up in different places on the golden floor.

The patient’s eyes shot icicles too glaring to ignore.

“How do you dare imply such petty things could get my goat?”

The anger on his face was like the berg that sunk the boat.

 

The doctor tried again. “Please sir, I beg. Don’t be offended.

Those are the questions that my fellow doctors recommended.

It’s nothing personal, but you are in stage three denial.

Your friends don’t want to see you die.  They miss your happy smile.”

 

The general relaxed a bit. “Volcano Man. It’s he.

He spewed a stream of lava, but I froze it expertly.

It wasn’t easy. No one helped me. No one even cared.

The villain was so evil and the victims were so scared.”

 

“The helicopter I was flying, no one else could man.

No co-pilot is qualified to lend this guy a hand.

I shall not relegate such work to some unworthy slob.

I am the multi-tasker, and I did a bang-up job.

 

Through blasts of hot disgust and wild opinion smoke I steered,

While blowing freeze breath out the window, from his rants I veered.

I used my supersonic voice to tell the crowd to freeze

While I made ice of lava, but their fear it did not ease.

 

“The people were too stubborn and they would not heed my voice.

And that is why, you see, I have no reason to rejoice.

I stuck my neck out for them, but received no gratitude.

All I got from them was one big stinking attitude.”

 

“They said they didn’t like the way that I looked down on them.

‘We are not little kids,’ they said. ‘We want to be your friend.’

But who would not act better than those folks if they were me?

The fire I put out was growing exponentially.”

 

“I saved those lazy victims, but my role is now reversed.

Now I’m the one in need of rescuing and I feel cursed.

I’m sick because I just asked them to listen and obey.

But they refused. It makes me mad. This cold won’t go away.”

 

“If you’ll take my prescription, then it will,” the doctor said.

“First off, to cure this flu requires a chill pill for your head.

Let go your disappointment. Everybody makes mistakes.

To know you’re not their Savior is the way to cure your aches. ”

 

“Rest in His finished work. That’s the best way to heal your heart.

You do not need a podium to demonstrate your art.

The warmth that you require does not depend on recognition.

What you need is a merry heart to make a smooth transition.”

 

“To think on good things, not on bad, will bring more joy to you.

To welcome co-pilots can melt the ice in which you stew.

A slice of humble pie will help dissolve your isolation

And turn your freezer burn into a wondrous ‘ice elation.'”