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@ericawordsmith – I love the song I See Fire 🙂 And Into the West. And The Last Farewell.

Ah, dear Reep. He’s so cute… I mean, courageous. 😀

I’d have to agree with @wordsmith on writing to portray God’s original plan. God’s beginning of the world was perfection, and while we do aspire to be like Christ, we can’t obtain that perfection, nor are perfect characters in books well received.

So I picked up this book I found in Goodwill only yesterday, right after our conversation on chivalry, (great ‘coincidence’, huh?:D) which was called ‘The Guide to Being a Gentleman’. I was hoping I could compare the ideas in the book to a biblical standards, but I quickly saw that it was more of a goofy book, with things like, “A gentleman should know how to make waffles at two in the morning.” “A gentleman, even if he lives alone, should never drink milk out of the carton.” 😀 But there was one thing I liked in a slightly more serious section… “A gentleman is still a gentleman even to the lowest of women.”

The code of chivalry and honor and being a gentleman still applies no matter what the attitude of the woman. Jesus and his followers helped the adulterers, the harlots, and the demon-possessed women. Even if she’s sunk to a sinful and immoral life, even if she acts manly and brash, the duty of a gentleman is still to be a gentleman no matter to whom it is.

@wordsmith – If you were born in June of 2002, then you are roughly a month older than me.

Also, if my name wasn’t Anne, I’ll bet people could still tell I was a girl from my reaction to your comment about me not sounding stupid. I cried. I always do when people say things like that, no matter how small, because the fact that they cared enough about an offhand comment I made to say something like you did is really, really amazing. So thank you.

@morreafirebird  –  Yeah, it’s just a natural gift thing. Here’s the explanation from the book…

There are all sorts of feelings in this world; sadness, joy, guilt, contentment. They twist around people’s hearts, drape over their shoulders, or walk beside them holding their hand.

Wherever they are, I can see them.

When my mom and dad were alive, they called it a God-gift. My foster parents don’t understand.

Most people don’t, but I’m okay with that. It feels special to know I’m the only one who can see the whirlpool of feelings, even the hidden ones, dark and secret. When I walked around campus I would open my heart eyes and stare at the churning sea of college-student emotions flooding out of their hearts and hovering around them.

I knew that if I could see myself, I would only have one feeling hovering around me.

Loneliness.