1939 D.K.

while sitting in church yesterday I glanced down at the ledge attached to the pew in front of me and found etched into the wood the words '1939 D.K' after getting over my initial shock of this writing now being over 70 years old, I began to wonder about D.K's life. Did he make it to 2011? was he sitting with me in this church today? What about the war, if he was around 16 when scrawling this on the pew then he probably would have been called up. Did he survive? where did he fight? the questions go on. A little to the left of this graffiti is another date '64'. I like to think D.K. survived the war and returned again to leave his mark. However, the hand writing is different and it is nameless. maybe D.K never even made it passed the year 1939.
I'm writing about this because it struck me that day how fleeting life was. Here was a boy (or girl) on the verge of war not knowing what was coming, how many would die or that it would last the next 5 years of his life. Now he was gone, quite probably dead before his name even had time to be worn away from a church pew.
Hank Green commented yesterday how 'we are remembered as a collective', not for our individual achievements but what we achieved or failed to achieve as a body of people' this is true on human levels. no one will remember D.K. no one knows his full name, his job, rank or hair colour but we will remember the collective who fought and lived through world war two for ever.
I said above that it is true on human levels. This is because I know that my God remembers every single detail about every person that ever lived. In the bible there are hundreds of names and genealogies just screaming to us 'God knows you. He does not forget'. there is no fading into he background with him.
 If D.K followed Jesus Christ and trusted that he died and rose again then he is not dead but alive right now with Christ. Maybe one day I will get to meet him.

Obliteration of history since the beginning of time.

My internet has been running extremely slowly lately, so I decided to delete my internet history. However, while doing this I suddenly felt as though I was making a huge life decision by wiping out my past. One which could effect the state of the world, and this is why:

What the heck?! I sat there for a good 2 minutes hovering over the button. What happens if all this information is truly obliterated? The uncontrollable crazy me inside suddenly had the fear that as soon as I pressed 'clear', the knowledge would suddenly disappear from my brain. *pop*  there goes 10 friends, the reason why my eyelid was twitching and discovering the existence of narwhals. It was a tough decision to make, fast internet or narwhals. I hope none of you ever have to face this choice. Weighing up the beauty and mysticalness (ooo new word!) of narwhals against the possibilities of yet unattained knowledge is an extremely tricky choice. Cowering slightly behind my desk I hit the clear button. I do not yet think anything has happened to my brain but I wouldn't know....oooo...OK freaking myself out slightly.
If you do face the decision to 'obliterate everything from your computer since the dawn of time' or to remain fully knowledgeable but slow forever, don't take the same risk I did. Use the all powerful print screen button. This shall then show the villainous clear button for the scheming mind wiper he truly is...
Over and Out.

Pulpit Trip

What my imagination saw:

I was sitting in Church on Sunday, when a girl who had been talking at the pulpit, tripped on her way down the stairs in front of the whole congregation. She went flying, narrowly missing the band equipment but landing head first on the organ!  A huge BWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRPPPPP! filled the church as the pipes burst into life. The noise was so horrific that it frightened the life out of Frank, an elderly gentleman who had dozed off at the back, making him jump up in fright waving his arms around. He quickly tried to cover up his napping by shouting ‘hallelujah!’ over the top (A classic move in such circumstances). Unfortunately his flailing arm shot a pen directly across the room, narrowly avoiding Celia’s perm and landing into the hands of a surprised toddler, who immediately started drawing joyfully on the legs of Becca, the student in front. The girl screamed, wondering what on earth was attacking her from behind and turned round. Not seeing the child sat on the floor, she looked to Roger who was sat behind her. He grinned at her broadly, mistaking her look of shock for one of a new comer who needs to be welcomed. Naturally misinterpreting this, she slapped him and stormed out. Roger was speechless. Finally, attention was drawn back to the poor girl still sprawled on the organ and order was slowly resumed.  A Sunday to remember!

What actually happened?

 Girl tripped slightly coming out of the pulpit but recovered quickly and descended the stairs gracefully.

what's it all about?

hey!
so, you got past the mighty title picture. congratulations. your prize is the answer to the question 'what is this blog about?' You're excited I can tell. OK, I'll tell you. Most days in my life are average. Nothing particularly extraordinary happens, I'm talking no charging rhinos, deadly snake bites or even a walking fish. Fortunately, my brain compensates for this. It sees simple things and turns them into huge events where one thing leads to another until all around is chaos and hilarity. Unfortunately, I have very little control over this ability and so have often found myself in an awkward 'laughing out loud when nobody else is' moment. My aim in writing this blog is that my imagination will have an outlet; somewhere it can roam free among the daises and buttercups with giraffes, walking fish and many an event that will never come to pass.

if you are still clueless about what this blog is about just wait until my second post. Hopefully it will make more sense then.

Until then,
Jo