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What Is Your Deepest Fear?	That You're Inadequate?

new_found_one12

Name: Cory
Country: United States
State: Tennessee
Metro: Jackson
Birthday: 10/24/1990
Gender: Male

Interests: I love bowling, baseball, football.... workin on screwed up math that scares away most people with one of my best friends.... plannin on hittin the military up at Westpoint... Infantry and Artillery work in the Army.
Expertise: Math.......
Occupation: Student
Industry: Other

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Member Since: 6/19/2005

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Monday, September 11, 2006

Currently Listening
Rise
By Building 429
I Believe (with Jesus is the Answer)
see related

Raw, Uncut, Unedited, Uncensored ~ September 11, 2006

Five years ago, many men and women, husbands and wives, sons and daughters, fathers and mothers lost their lives.  Five years ago, 2,973 people died due to the attacks carried out by nineteen terrorists.  Five years ago, many hundreds of emergency personnel were revealed as heroes, and hundreds of civilians came to the forefront of the newly bred war to help out their fellow brothers and sisters.  Five years ago, the Fire Department of New York City (FDNY), lost 343 “soldiers of the line.”  As a ten year old sixth-grader, I could have never understood just what the pictures of two flaming towers standing side by side, those same towers falling to the ground shortly thereafter, three firefighters raising the American flag proudly over the new pile of smoking rubble, and of thousands of recently united family members working through this smoldering pile.  But now, as a fifteen year old son of a firefighter, having been born and raised within the ranks and halls of the Jackson Fire Department, I know with amazing realism just what importance and magnitude the number three-hundred forty-three has.  Over these past five years, though physically further apart, I’ve become melded with the countless numbers of firefighters throughout this wonderful country.  Through the sacrifice of three-hundred forty-three incredible heroes on that fateful day five years ago, I have been truly transformed and molded into a completely new person, nothing reminiscent of the child I was when I went to school on September 11, 2001.  Not only did I undergo a complete change from child to honor-conscious young man, but the whole world finally realized just how incredibly strong the bonds are when men are united around one lifeline, around one, lifestyle, around one life-changing decision to run up those stairs and into the heart of the worst disaster the United States has ever seen.
My father is not just a firefighter by career, he is a firefighter by life.  Attracted to fire as a child and directed by his father’s stern discipline, my dad learned of a different responsibility, and evil, that comes with fire.  After moving to Tennessee from Indiana, he joined the Madison County Volunteer Fire Department and quickly showed himself to be a born leader and disciplined firefighter.  After finally reaching the age required to join the City of Jackson Fire Department, he put in an application, was trained, and was welcomed into the brotherhood.  Now, after almost two-and-a-half decades of hard work, sacrifice, blood, sweat, tears, and sometimes crushing physical, mental, and emotional pain, my father is near the very top of the department’s ranks.
Apparently, I inherited my father’s disposition towards and unique love and understanding of fire.  Raised with many of the firefighters, around the pieces of fire equipment, and within the halls of the departments, I have grown incredibly close to the spirit of firefighting.  Many on the outside see firefighting as an “adventure,” a “rush,” or even as a “unique career.”  However, it is nothing of the sort.  In reality, upon becoming a firefighter, one becomes a “soldier of the line,” a “brother of the distinguished,” and a “hero of heroes.”  Though some “rookies” and “youngbloods” may join the force just to fight the fires or “experience the rush,” they are either quickly overcome and swept up by the tight companionship or they never truly become a part of the force and do not last long within the ranks.  Only the dedicated, only the true, only the few, and only the heroes stay for the long haul.  Only the brothers ever give their life for others.
One may ask, “How can someone feel so close to someone in New York, even though he lives hundreds and thousands of miles away?”  Honestly, the feeling is difficult to fathom without being a part of it.  But one may be able to think of it this way – even in extended families, if a cousin lives in another state and he or she dies, the whole family will know, and the whole family will care.  Just as God never fails to notice when even one sparrow falls to the ground, the fire departments always share the pain when a brother falls.  Another way to picture the brotherhood of the fire department may be to remember Hurricane Katrina when it made landfall in 2005.  The nation pulled together in incredible fashion to help out its afflicted family, just as the fire department rallies around its fallen.
On my computer, I have the recordings of the radio transmissions that occurred during the morning of 9/11.  After sitting down on my couch and listening to hours’ worth of heroes’ voices staying amazingly calm through the World Trade Center catastrophe, I realized that to be a “soldier of the line,” one must be a rare, unique, one-of-a-kind individual.  Training cannot make that sort of person.  Genetics cannot breed a unique style of hero.  A soldier can be borne of its upbringing and discipline.  A doctor can be taught to have uncanny skills and personality traits.  Not anyone can be either of those two, but no one except the true firefighters themselves can stay calm within the pressure cooker that was September 11.  Granted, anyone can be a hero – that was proven on United Airlines Fight 93.  But not just anyone can be a police officer, a schoolteacher, or even a “simple” chef.  All of these are “heroes” in their own respect.  A certain respect of their own sort, yes, but nothing compared to what it would take to be a part of the “343.”  Neither words created within my own mind, nor words created by the world’s most eloquent speaker, nor words spoken by the wisest of the wise who have ever lived could describe or begin to scratch the surface of the kind of mettle it took those three-hundred forty-three firefighters to complete the unmatchable, incomparable, and unprecedented tasks those men and women undertook on that day five years ago.  Never before has something of that sort been seen, and without a doubt I will confidently dare to say that never again will it be seen by humanity.
I speak highly of the men and women of FDNY who gave their lives five years ago, but with good reason do I commit what is normally seen by some as somewhat of a sin comparable to vanity or gluttony.  Though what I offer here may be considered by some, if not many, as a “biased view” of the brotherhood many know as the fire department, I offer a view rarely seen by anyone not within the ranks.  What I offer is a pouring-out from my heart that has been maturing and growing over the past five years.  When I began classes at 7:30 A.M. on September 11, 2001, this young man never expected his life, his world, his whole heart and everything that will ever be experienced by it to be changed completely, never to go back to the state that those things once resided in.  Never again will I be the naïve child I was when I entered my sixth grade year at Highland Park Intermediate School in my hometown of Jackson, Tennessee.  From now forevermore will I represent just one of the millions changed by the stories of heroism, the examples of thousands, and the pictures of emotions that could never be described.  There may be more “Iwo Jima” moments, but never again will the “brotherhood of the distinguished” ever have such a glorious moment as the countless it had on September 11, 2001, and the days following.  Though the picture of the three firefighters raising the flag overtop the terrorist-created pile of rubble will surely be passed down forever, in the minds of many, the pictures of our brothers searching through the rubble, laboring around Ground Zero, and raising their arms and voices during President Bush’s speech where the World Trade Center towers One and Two once stood will eternally remind us of our New York brothers’ untold sacrifices.
Five years ago, I was a child.  Five years ago, the world froze in horror.  Five years ago, the implications of the terrorist attacks on the World Trade Center and the Pentagon could not even begin to be fathomed.  Five years ago, everything changed.  Today, a new light shines in the world.  Today, a new light shines on the “brotherhood of the distinguished.”  Today, a new light shines within my heart.  Today, a new fire burns throughout the nation, atop Lady Liberty’s torch, and inside the depths of my very own soul.  From now ‘til forever meets today, I will not be just another face in the crowd.  Never again will I be just another head in the crowd of masses.  Until I come to see my Father’s face, I will strive to be just like the three-forty-three.  I will place my life in the Hands of the Healer. I will live my life to help the next, so that they may pass the favor on to the rest.  I will always pour my love out to those who seek it, and run up the stairs of my own life, whether it may be “just there,” smoking, burning, or on its way down to the ground.  The thought that they very well may never see the faces of their families again ever phased the three-forty-three, so why would I allow fear to ever cement my feet?  One day I will get my chance to step back and watch or lay my life down for those I love and those I do not know.  This chance I will always await.  What will you do when faced with the chance to die?  Will you fear that which is worth nothing and do just that, or will you rush up the stairs, stopping only to see that those you pass make it out alive, and risk that which we long so desperately to hold onto?  Whether that moment involves my physical death or only revolves around me killing my pride, my mind is made and no doubt remains.  But will you choose life or show the ultimate love?  For “greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends,”1 “I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances,”2 “forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead, I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward…”3
I once was a child, five years ago.  Now I am a man, ‘till forever meets today.

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Sunday, March 26, 2006

To Friends ~ Till Death Do Us Part

Ya know, I hate making personal posts, but I think tonight I'll make one ~ from me, by me, about me - to my friends.

Right now, I am 15 years old. Right now, I am 3/4 of the way through my sophomore year of high school. It's my SOPHOMORE year. That's 2 out of only 4. FOUR years I have to love life and live it to the best and happiest as possible. FOUR years I have to make the best memories I will ever have for the rest of my life. FOUR years to make friendships that will last, happiness that will resound forever, and memories I will never regret. But right now, I'm finishing up year number TWO out of just FOUR. FOUR! One, Two, Three, Four. All I have left is TWO. Where have the first TWO gone? NOWHERE.

I had TWO years before high school to make friendships that'll last through high school, and then run on throughout the rest of my life. TWO. Only TWO. And where did I take them? NOWHERE.

I have spent the past FOUR years doing nothing. All I have done through that time is sit around and pout about how bad my life is. All I have done those past FOUR years is waste my life away, watch the time fly by, and miss the opportunities of a lifetime. Why? Because I didn't know what I was doing, didn't realize what I was missing, and didn't care to find out. But now, as I sit reminiscing about my past FOUR years, I realize what everyone who's gone before me has said ~ don't wish these few short days left before I begin life, because I'll never have them again and I'll miss them forever. I'm only HALFWAY through these last days of my life before a true life, yet I'm already missing the time I've WASTED. I have literally WASTED these past FOUR years. And right now, I only have TWO SHORT years left to learn to LIVE life. LIVING life is something I've never known how to do, nor to do. I was brought up in a family that didn't teach me, didn't allow me, and largely didn't want me to learn how to LIVE life and truly enjoy the people I know. But now, I have friends that I KNOW I will have forever. For the past FOUR years, I've known how to be GRATEFUL for my friends and their love. BUT I've never known how to APPRECIATE my friends and the unfailing love they provide me from their hearts. They don't do it because they have to, but because they want to and they love me.

What pains me the most is when I look around and see people who have friends just to have friends. I see people hanging out with people, talking to people, messaging people, and associating with people, just to do so. Many people actually have, socially speaking, life pretty easy. And you may not and you're like, "Man, you're a punk, you know that? Things aren't easy for me." But a lot of people I KNOW have friends that they have and just say they know them. Some people I know aren't as fortunate. Personally, I spent my 7th and 8th grade years a loner. I wasn't a punk, like I was in 9th grade. I didn't act mean, suicidal, sad, ungrateful, or unappreciative during those two years. I wasn't a loner by choice. In 9th grade, I was. In 7th and 8th grade, I tried my hardest to be just another middle schooler and enjoy life. But I wasn't accepted, I wasn't loved, and I wasn't happy. THAT is why I ended up the way I was in 9th grade. I only got a TASTE of friendship during the hard times in 8th grade, but I lost it quickly. That TASTE, however, is what kept me driven through life.

When things got hard when I was young, all I knew was pain and evil ways to escape it. My family was one living in evil. I have an alcoholic father, two brothers who I used to be at war with, literally, a sister who refuses to embrace me as her brother, and a mother that just doesn't understand anything I explain to her, mainly because she didn't experience what I am going through, even according to her herself. I have no one else my age I am fortunate enough to be able to grow close to. I used to try to cling to my cousins, but I only have one who I can truly sit down with a talk to and embrace who will embrace me. The problem is that he lives in Indiana, and my dad is my only connection to Indiana, and I have no contact with my father as of currently plus the past four to five months. I have one sister, however, who I am just recently able to talk with about minor problems, such as how my girlfriend lives in Oklahoma and my family doesn't understand me. I do not have any family I am fortunate enough to be close enough to talk to about deep stuff, stuff that actually matters within my heart and soul.

I AM, however, blessed unbelievably much by my Father and Jesus Christ to have friends who I can lean on through anything. I remember sharing embraces to help hold up and support friends when SB, Johnna, Amira, John Parrish, and others passed. I remember sharing embraces to be held up and supported when Amira, my great-uncle in Indiana (who was like my second grandfather who took me everywhere he could and loved me as his own), my great-grandmother, and others passed. I remember crying in the hallways of Madison, at the altar of Northside Assembly of God, in the cars of friends, in the arms of those who love me, and on the shoulders of those who lift me up. I remember praying with friends for life, for healing, for Salvation, for strength, for encouragement, for love, and for all that we have. I don't have memories, I literally DO NOT possess memories of crying with family, being supported by family, and being lifted up by family. Except for two. Those two memories are the two most cherished memories of my life, and will never be lost, never be forgotten, and never let go of. When my mother's first cousin comitted suicide by shotgun when I was about 9, and first considering suicide myself, I remember standing at her funeral with my family and my grandfather being the front pallbearer for her casket. She was, as my mother put it, the "sparkle in his eye, the twinkle that gave everyone life," for my grandfather. I had never, and never since, have seen him cry. And I remember walking up to Kathy's casket, taking a rose, turning around to see Grandaddy standing tall behind me, and us sharing an embrace I'll never forget for the rest of my life. Then I remember just last year when my great-uncle, Russell, died in Indiana. After his daughter, Cheryl, whom one of my sisters is named after, was murdered by her husband soon after having my cousin, Corey, after whom I am named, Russell took Corey in to be his own child. The only love I can find within myself for most of my family is a blood love, not a true love. But Russell was one of the few family members I knew as being true family that I can love more than just through shared blood. After watching my dying great-grandmother cry for nearly twenty minutes in her wheelchair next to his casket, and watching my own father cry for the first time in my life, I took some time out apart from the rest of the group to spend some time beside my passed family member. I'll never forget the smile he had on his face lying in his casket, the smile that had never failed me, nor anyone else in my family. After what seemed to be a literal eternity, I turned around, tears in my eyes, to find several members of the rest of my attending family standing at the door of the room of the funeral home in awe of the stolid one I prove myself to be to my family breaking down right in front of their eyes. That was when my father stepped forward for the first time in my life. That was the first and last time I have ever experienced my father being a true father to his child. And that was the first and last time I have ever in my life shared a true embrace of love with my dad.

These kinds of memories within my family are, obviously, rare. With my true friends, however, they are not commonplace, but they are truly there, and they are truly magical. I say true friends because I cannot name one person who is friends with me just to know me. My enemies and friends alike will tell anyone who asks that I am too annoying, too immature, too complicated, too dark, too sinister, too much of an honest drag-down to be friends with casually. Either you love me with all your heart and am willing to give your all for me, or you just know me. I don't say that to send an ultimatum to those who know me, but instead to state the truth of my friends' hearts. And off that, I will say:

To those who have loved me, who have given their hearts, time, effort, emotions, and put themselves on the line just to try and be there for me, I love you with all that I have. I would honestly die for you, I would honestly give all that I have for you, and I would honestly have no regrets for doing anything for you. The memories you all have given me are unforgettable. And though I may not be able to pull any specific event or happening from within my memory back, I will always remember that you loved me enough to make your mark within my heart and my soul. If it weren't for you all, I honestly would have more than likely either dropped into smoking, drinking, drugs, and cutting or, more likely, committed suicide during my freshman year. And I say that truly, because I know where I was at last year, and will never forget that, and will never forget your time and love that you put in to pull me from that spot. I am eternally grateful for everything you all have given me, and I hope that all of our friendships will last forever, not just a select few, because, although a select few have driven me spiritually on a personally deep level, all of you have pushed me on through life physically, mentall, emotionally, and spiritually. It is you all who have given me a chance to live life, and it is you all who have opened my eyes to what true love and true life is. Thank you all for your love, and I believe now is the time to begin living my life once and for all.

TWO years down, TWO more to go, and TWO more to truly LIVE!

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Monday, March 20, 2006

Currently Listening
Arriving
By Chris Tomlin, Steven Curtis Chapman
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What is Time? What is Freedom? Where are these to be found?

I was watching the tv earlier today and The Fast & The Furious was on, and one quote from Vin Diesel that I've heard several times really jumped out at me and I enjoyed it... he said, "I live my life a quarter-mile at a time....during those ten seconds, I'm free."

And, even though I'm only fifteen, I still am forced to wonder, "Where has my precious time gone?" And I must wonder about what I find my freedom in. Do I even find freedom? Does my life ever even have a glimpse of peace? And where will my time go in the future? Will I even have time in my future?

I look back at the times before I walked into the light of reality. I still remember much of my activities as a young child. I remember my first bike ride, even my first ride on a tricycle I got for my... like 4th bday. I remember my first ride on a ferry boat and four-wheeler. I remember times when I was eight and nine and ten years old hanging out with my friends on my street. I remember the ignorant bliss I enjoyed way back then. And then I remember what happened those days past. When I realized that what I had between my friends was slipping away, and petty childish squibbles were becoming full-blown fights. I realized that my parents weren't actually as well and happy off as the wool over my eyes had taught me. I realized that I honestly had no freedom from the pain anymore, my life was in my hands now, and time had forgotten me.

My middle school years and my freshmen year were times I'll never forget. Screw happiness and ignorant releases and times of childish joy. I had nothing, I received nothing, I gave nothing. Time gave me nothing, and life gave me no breaks. I was watching my life, all that I had, slip through my fingers. My time was leaving me, and I had nowhere to go, nowhere to run. THOSE are the days, that is the time that I've lost, not my young days that many long to have once again. I have not lost my days of young, but my days of recent age.

Recently however, I've found what time and freedom honestly means. God has mended my broken wings, and now I'm living life again. Vin Diesel lives his life a quarter-mile at a time; I live mine one day, one chance, one breath, one blessing. Nas once said if he only had one mic. I have more than one mic - I have one life, I have one Salvation, I have one day that I'm living right now. Recently, at an FCA meeting at school, our group was challenged to count our blessings and ask ourselves what do we trust all that we have in. I've fought many battles over this question recently. What have I given my life, my time, my FREEDOM to? For awhile I'd given all that I had to my school and my sports and myself. I'd withdrawn myself from a commitment to God and given it to my worldly commitments. Oh, how the foolish give themselves to the world, yet the wise give to their Lord. I was foolish, and I dare not call myself wise. But I will say, I am not as much of a fool as I was. And I hate to say but, though I am a fool of a devil compared to many, I am a sage compared to many more. Look into the mirror. Who are you in this world? What do you see lying in your soul? Do you see something borne of a fool, or a child of the wise? Many people whose eyes I look into show me fools. But I have hope in these children of the world, for I know the Lord dwells within you all. And don't stop here deeming me some kind of radicalist evangelical over-the-top condemning Christian. I want you to look at yourself. I'm a Christian, and though lost for a time, have been all my life, and have been in the light for over a year now. But I found myself to be a fool for the tops for awhile. I was at the top of the list of the foolish. I had given my wings of freedom, my sense of peace, my life's time to stupid stuff, and junk that I shouldn'tve. Many people have called me "wise beyond my time" and "too mature to be this young," but I don't rest on that, for I am an imperfection. I don't have imperfections, I AM one. We all are. And we are all finite, we all have clocks that will one day run out. We all have wings that one day will forget to fly. We all will someday lose everything we have. I and every teenager in my city has learned that EXTREMELY well. So why waste that? C'mon people, I was stupid to waste my time, to throw that precious gift away. WHY WOULD YOU DO THE SAME?!?! Take a step outside yourself for a minute, and take a look at you. You'll see what I mean.

What is the present? What is the past? Is not the present the fruit of our past, yet all that we have rest in the present? Today is something we have, yesterday is something we had, and tomorrow is something we shall never obtain.

~Cory~

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Currently Listening
Arriving
By Chris Tomlin, Steven Curtis Chapman
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When Wings Forget to Fly

The clock ticks,

The alarm sounds,

A terrible mix,

Where time abounds,

On a day,

A man sits staring,

His life gone away,

His regrets overbearing,

As his time fails,

He feels his fingers slip,

On those last seconds sliding on their rails,

His lungs take one last dip,

Time is valuable,

A lesson he learned well,

Time is livable,

It's not something to kill,

His thoughts he looses,

And love he watches pass by,

As he prays for time his child never loses,

As he did when his wings forgot to fly.

~Cory~

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Sunday, February 19, 2006

Currently Listening
Deep Enough to Dream
By Chris Rice
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As I Look, What Shall I See? As I Seek, What Shall I Find?

Fires are burning, fires are dying; lives are changing, lives are ending.

I remember one day. This day makes me cry everytime I think of it, but I will share. I remember a day, several actually, but one in particular. When I looked into one of my best friend's eyes. Someone I loved, someone I cared about, someone I honestly would give everything for, just because she's such a wonderful person - her beautiful eyes I stared into. And as I looked, I remember what I found. As I delved into her soul, I found one looking for death, one living a Hell. No, couldn't be, not this one, not her, please God, NOT HER! But here I was, frozen, shocked, on the edge of everything myself, finding that this light was being smothered. Her eyes were not red, she wasn't saying anything to me, in fact, she had never said anything to me more than the casual. But I loved her, not on a physical scale, but in a spiritual realm, as a brother, and a brother in Christ, I loved this young lady.

Another day, I am talking to another one of my best friends. "Cory..," she mutters to me over the internet, her voice clear even through the text. "Cory, I want to die... I'm tired of this... Cory, I have something to tell you.... I cut.... and I've been thinking lately... and I don't want this to continue.." I was shocked, and could say nothing more than, "THAN DON'T LET IT!!! I'LL HELP YOU!! I SWEAR, I WILL HELP YOU THROUGH ANYTHING, JUST PLEASE DON'T KEEP CUTTING, AND DON'T GO ANY FURTHER!!!" "No, Cory, it's not that simple... you can't help this... my life is done, nothing is left, I'm tired of it......."

Later, it's April, I'm still partily depressed. The thoughts are weighing on my mind, my regrets are sticking poignantly out inside, the world is fighting, smothering my soul. Yet, through the darkness my soul still has something to be glad for. The end of the Sunday service, my friend has stopped cutting and has been sitting behind me for the past hour and a half. The pastor calls a group of young people to the backroom, and I'm a part of it. I get back there with several of my male friends, we change, and march calmly up the stairs. By now I'm third in line on my side of the stairs, and my youth pastor has just called my friend's name. She's slowly making her way down the four steps into the warm pool of water. He asks her the question, "Do you truly believe in your heart that Jesus was the Son of God and died to forgive you of your sins?" "Yes," she replies, and she is baptised. I will never forget the feeling I received at that moment. It was unbelieveably better than when I myself got baptised, and I would never trade it for anything.

And my friend with the desperate longing? She's just one of many. The church has picked her up, but there are still so many I could name off now that have the same cry in their heart. My friend with cutting got turned around through hard work, love, truth, honesty, care, compassion, and value for her heart, life, values, and future. I couldn't have done it without God, and He made my heart straight and strong enough to help her through her problems. And a crying heart can be solved the same way - all that's been mentioned and prayer and faithfulness. In fact, all of these is required to do anything in life and in God's Kingdom, other than just to completely fail, which is by your own choice.

What saddens me most in life is when I walk into my church, looking for a beautiful young face bright with joy, but only finding those faces, which should be lively, down-trodden and looking ready to burst out crying any second. But why is this such? Why are absolutely beautiful young ladies and handsome young men so dead inside? Many things in life can bring someone, especially a young person, down. But one thing can bring them back up - love. Within love is the care, compassion, patience. "1Co 13:4 Love is patient,i love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud.j 5 It is not rude, it is not self-seeking,k it is not easily angered,l it keeps no record of wrongs.m 6 Love does not delight in eviln but rejoices with the truth.o 7 It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.p
1Co 13:8 Love never fails. But where there are prophecies,q they will cease; where there are tongues,r they will be stilled; where there is knowledge, it will pass away. 9 For we know in parts and we prophesy in part, 10 but when perfection comes,t the imperfect disappears. 11 When I was a child, I talked like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I put childish waysu behind me. 12 Now we see but a poor reflection as in a mirror;v then we shall see face to face.w Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known.x
1Co 13:13 And now these three remain: faith, hope and love.y But the greatest of these is love.z" ~ 1 Corinthians 13:4-13. Love can and will help. Love can and will save. Love can and will accomplish and overcome ANYTHING. But first, love must become active once again. Society has sucked love of it's life and truth. But love must not sit idle. This generation is the generation of today and tomorrow, and we will create the world that we want to live in tomorrow, and our children to live in after that. And we will create it today. But how can a generation sucked of life and love become successful? IT CAN'T! That is why we must become active in our love. If you are a Christian, love should be abounding within your heart. If you're a Christian, you aught be pouring love out to everyone you know, even moreso to those who are down. My love can only go so far; your love must pick up where I can't. I'm tired of fighting so many battles for my own soul and others' souls and losing them because no one would help. I hate obligations. In life, you have very few true obligations. But here is one that is not just a responsibility but something that you are held to for eternity - LOVING OTHERS!!!! So c'mon now and learn to reach out to those who need help, who need love, who are down-trodden and losing it. PICK THEM UP!!! HELP YOUR BROTHERS AND SISTERS OUT!!!! STOP SITTING AROUND AND WATCH SOULS GET DESTROYED!!!! And to those of you few who are truly stepping out on that battlefield and doing your part as a Christ follower, I respect you and look up to you admirably because you are those who will become, and are, the greatest ones of this earth. And those who aren't, GET OUT THERE AND DO WHAT YOU SHOULD!!!!

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