'Beauty Poem' By: Gracious Pack

We always see clouds way up in the sky,

But do we really notice as they’re floating by?

We always see stars twinkling above,

But do we really see God’s beautiful love?

There are birds in trees with leaves all around

While flowers are blooming way down on the ground.

Think of all of God’s stunning wonder

As your mind feels like it’s all asunder,

So as you go about this day,

Let’s all get on our knees and pray!

'Choice' Video, Lyrics, and Music By: Isaiah Pack

And just in case the Video won't work for you, here is the Link. 

'Armor of God Poem' By: Gracious Pack

God in Heaven loves all His children,

Every one, the millions and billions!

He watches over us day by day

As Satan tries to make us stray.

It’s always our choice to choose which side,

It’s always our choice to choose where we’ll abide.

There is no sitting on the fence,

I mean… it really just doesn’t make sense…

Our Father loves us, and needs us all

He wants us all to listen, no matter how small.

Satan is strong, he’s trying, too,

to get to all of us, even you!

'The War for My Heart: An Eternal Love Story' By: Karen Bates

War was far from my mind as I walked through a trail near my home on a sunny, fall day. I breathed in the crisp, mountain air and smiled at flickering, yellow aspen leaves looking so busy behind the steady, orange and red maples. “Much like my thoughts today,” I mused. It had been a frantic morning as I tried to prepare for this hike, and even so, I had left many things at home undone.

“Don’t forget to look for a pebble that represents you in some way,” I called to the group of youth trailing along behind me. As we reached the still, silent pond that was our destination, we found a place to share and discuss the insights we had gained from our readings that week. At the end of our time, I invited them to find a quiet spot to think. I asked them to throw their pebble in the pond, watch the ripples, and quietly reflect on what sort of ripples they were sending to the world.

They went to their quiet spots. I found a relatively flat rock where I could try to ponder. I had my baby along. She squirmed and grabbed my pen as I tried to think of something to write. Then a powerful thought came into my mind:

"You may not see it, but there is war raging around you, even in this peaceful place. Your heart is the price. Unseen forces want to dwell there, but each moment you choose who wins the victory.”

As I watched these youth throw their pebbles in the pond, I realized why, for these veiled powers, a heart is the ultimate price of victory. If they can penetrate one heart their influencing ripples will extend far beyond what we can see. In the heart lies power. It is where ripples are made. 

I looked back to when I had rippled frustration, annoyance, and selfishness that day. I knew I had received the opposing force into my heart. I reflected that because Christ died for me, I have the choice to let Him clean my heart from any evil at any moment. And He would fill it with God’s love. Gratitude filled my soul as I understood that because of Him, I get to choose who wins each battle for my heart.

The youth and I shared our parting thoughts with one another and began walking back along the trail. As we hiked down, the aspen leaves looked full of joy and life. I looked at the changing leaves, the deep sky, the sunny flowers. I felt God’s love for me speaking through their bloom. 

I considered His love for each of us. How I wanted His love to win! I felt a great desire to let it reside so much in my heart that it can build fortresses, barricades, and watchtowers. I wished to ripple His love into as many hearts within my influence as I could touch. They may even let it in. And then it could ripple...

'Roanoke' By: Spencer Jensen

       "They've returned."

       Sergeant Jones stood in the doorway of The cabin, his warm breath turning to mist in the cold December air. General Bradbury stood up from his position at the desk, and strode over, pushed past Sergeant Jones, boots crunching in the few inches of snow that still continued to fall, a stark white against the starless sky.
The General turned. "Where are they?"
"North gate.", the sergeant replied.
With a grunt, General Bradbury whirled around and crunched out into the biting night air. By the time he reached the north gate, his dark beard, just beginning to turn grey, was now filled with the white falling snow.

       As the General walked, his mind turned to the past few weeks. The excitement of seeing land and getting off that miserable boat. The bright spring and warm summer as the colony set up its homes and buildings. The crisp autumn, in which the colony prepared for the winter. The bright lights and smoke to the east, and the men who could not help but explore. They came back with reports of strange men, mostly naked and painted crimson, dancing around a chest, chanting and swaying and singing and all sorts of vile things. The scouts left before the ritual was over, but what they saw was enough. This happened only a week before today. Their curiosity got the better of them, and they went back, against the General’s orders. He had found out a few hours ago, and had been furiously awaiting their arrival.

       The men were standing at the gate, their faces red from the cold, and their breath short. The leader of the band, Stephen Hawthorne, stepped forward, excitement and fear showing in his eyes. The General looked between the Stephen and the rest of the companies eyes, their faces all the same mask of fright mingled with exhilaration.

       "What have you done?" The General asked, trying to keep his fury from surfacing.
       "Sir, I­" Stephen stopped short, having no excuse. He himself had not thought this through at all. He had noticed the men's interest in the box the day before, during the colonies meeting. He had been lying awake the night before, when he suddenly felt the unexplainable urge to go find the box, and open it. He had thrown on his britches and his thin winter coat, and had quickly gathered a posse. The General, who's word was law in this town, had made it very clear that any unauthorized movements towards the capture, or any other action to do with the box, was an act of treason.

       Everyone in the colony knew the punishment for treason.
       A few weeks ago, 3 days before the first snow, Joseph Barkley, one of the only unmarried men in the colony, had been caught stealing from the colony’s food supply to trade with the natives that sometimes were caught near the settlement. A public meeting was called, followed immediate by a trial, and then an execution.

       The General stared back at Stephen, and wondered why such a good man, with no record of any crimes, in the colony or before, would suddenly commit such a terrible deed. Stephen had a beautiful wife and 3 young daughters, all of whom he loved dearly. Why would he leave them, knowing full well that what he was about to do would result in his death? Stephen was not a harsh man, in fact, he was rather logical in character, and had never let his emotions gain control of him. The General decided to stop trying to puzzle out the answer himself, and just ask the man.

       "Stephen, why did you do this? You know the punishment for treason."
       "Yes sir, I know. I don't know what came over me. I was lying in my bed, on the brink of sleep, when I saw the box in my mind. I saw it, and it was calling to me. I didn't, and still don’t know why, but I had to find that box. I had to know what was inside it. At any cost"

       General Bradbury suddenly noticed the dark blood on the men's weapons. There had never been any advances in allying the natives, the colony was to busy setting up the town and trying to survive. There had been plans to gain their friendship in the spring, but now General Bradbury knew there would be no peace with the natives. In retrieving the box, the men had not only disobeyed their commanding officer, but had started a war in the worst possible time. 

       "So right then, I pulled on my trousers, and ran out the door to gather a party. I didn’t even say anything to my wife. I don’t know why I did it, sir, but the deed is done. Permission to open the box?"

       "No. Definitely not." The General replied.
       General Bradbury had no idea what was in the box, but he had no plans to open it. The painted natives were a bad omen, and the General did not like the way Stephen had acted out of character. There was something dark about this box. The General walked through the throng of men, and they parted around him. The General reached the box, laying his eyes upon it for the first time.

       The box was bigger than a normal chest, coming up halfway to the Generals thighs. The chest was as black as midnight, the wood it had been carved from was jagged, and looked diseased and ancient. It had many stones set into it, some red, some black, and many silver pebbles. The stones were set in a complex order, and the Generals sharp mind strained against it. He could tell there was a pattern to them, something his brain recognized automatically, but he could not consciously see the pattern. It seemed to dance around his mind like a butterfly in the wind, resisting his every attempt to pin it down. The box had some form of writing set into it, but it looked nothing like the harsh scribbles of the natives, rather, it was curvy and fluid, but at the same time sharp and precise, and written in extreme detail.

       Something about the box took its toll on The General's mind, and he felt the sharp pain of a headache behind his eyes. He walked straight to the box, and reached down to lift it. The box was ridiculously heavy, even for its size, and The General could hardly lift it. The General was, by far, the strongest man in the colony, and he realized that the men had probably needed four or five of them to carry it. The box felt uncomfortably warm at some places, and chilling at others.

       General Bradbury did not like how the box made him feel.
       He turned slowly, and walked back to his office, the door hanging open, as he had neglected to close it. His head and muscles aching, He set the box down on the floor in front of the small, barred holding cell, and took the keys to the cell out of his pocket. Unlocking the door, he then pushed the chest into the cell, until it was in the center of the small space. He turned, and closed the door to the cell, slipping the only key back into his pocket. 

       He turned, and walked back out into the snow, this time remembering to close and lock the door behind him. He looked up into the snowy sky, and wondered what would happen next.

'God Before Everything' Video, Lyrics, and Music By: Isaiah Pack

And, just in case this video doesn't work, here is the Link.

'The Theory of Thymos: Plato’s Prediction' By: Jordan Housholder

       People are strange. Throughout all the ages of man, armies have wasted their lives going

to war over things as frivolous as an apple as well as many who kill themselves and others in the

name of a divine being that they have never even seen. At the same time, many heroes have

given their lives in protecting liberty and standing up for justice and freedom. What could cause

people to make decisions such as these? The ancient Greeks believed that there was a part

within each of us that caused us to make irrational decisions like these. This was called

Thymos. Plato wrote extensively on the topic. He said that all forms of society are born from this

philosophy of Thymos, and I agree. Upon examination we can find that political initiative, the life

blood of a free society, flows from the attributes of Thymos. Likewise, if we do not control this

place within, we will develop a weaker more tyrannical society.

       The Thymos that dwells within each of us is the seat of our passions. It has been defined

as that area of the soul where feelings of pride, indignation, greed, and shame as well as those

of kindness, charity, empathy, courage, and nobility are located and ruled. The Thymos is a force

of progression. It is not content with where it is now. It wants to grow, to become greater. If left

unchecked, it will even push a person to dominate or enslave another. It also drives many

people, especially men, to seek glory in what they do and a legacy for others to remember them

by. This is an essential part of a human being.

       Plato compared the human soul to a chariot with the charioteer and two horses. The first

horse is called Eros. This horse was not well bred, hard to control, and is represented as a black

horse. The second is Thymos, of royal breed, but rather prideful and difficult. He is a white horse.

The charioteer’s name is Logos. He is the master of these horses and has the potential to

control them, or to destroy the whole chariot by his lack of control. The meaning of these three

Greek words are Appetite (Eros), Passion (Thymos), and Logic or Reason (Logos). Combined,

these three function to make us each who we are. To find the key to understanding Plato’s idea

of the soul (and how Thymos works into it), we must look at the other two parts of the chariot.

Thymos is the part of our soul which allows us growth. However, depending on which of

the other two agents it listens to will determine whether it grows to a healthy and strong Thymos

or becomes a deformed and weak force for evil. When Thymos begins to act like Eros (or we

allow our passions to become dependent on our carnal appetites), it will grow weak and

unhealthy. In contrast, the Godly capacity each of us has to reason and think for ourselves

allows us to subjugate both our passions and our appetites to work as a team. When we master

all three of these fundamentals of the soul, we exhibit pure greatness. Men in this station will

often demand respect, and are they very dignified. When this state of being is achieved, we

receive a greater sense of what we feel is right and wrong, our understanding of justness (the

primitive form of justice) quickens, and we begin to get a sense of what we want the world

around us to become.

       This sense of justness brings with it a need for action. When people with strong Thymos

see unjustness being exhibited towards themselves and to those with whom they are

associated, they cannot help but stand up for that. When there are enough people who rise to

fight this unjustness, no matter what the price, there will be a change in the society to match the

new active majority’s view of justness. This massive­scale change is exactly what took place in

America with the Civil Rights movement. This now becomes the new law of justice, and it will

remain so until a new active majority overrules that in the name of their perception of “justness,”

ad infinitum. This is the key to political action. A persons natural sense of what is “just” and what

is not. But this is not always a positive, improving concept. When the active majority decides that

what is “just” is not in fact true or eternal “justice,” then the society is headed for a dark period.

        The first way that a Thymos can become twisted is if it is allowed to fall into step with

Eros; our appetites were not meant to control our passions. This occurs when reason steps

aside and is not firm in its control of Thymos. Thymos then begins to see the “freedom” of

following ones basest instincts. When one totally logical person loses his or her passions to

things like eating, sleeping, and amusement, they become totally immoral and selfish. This is

just the opposite of what is necessary for a freedom reform. The sense of “justness” caused in

this type of person will change as fast as their animal instincts will. If the active majority consists

of these people, they will have an extremely unstable foundation.

Another way a Thymos can become socially destructive is when you feed it but don’t

control it. By hooking that beast to your chariot unbridled, you are asking for destruction. This

type of Thymos is like a unkept fire. It will only grow and consume everything around it. When

this type of Thymos develops inside of someone, they lose all the positive attributes that used to

be a part of it. All that is left is pride, indignation, and greed. This person, when insulted or not

recognized as much as they would like, will lash out in indignation because of their pride, or the

shame they feel because of the truth shown them. They won’t only fight back, they will begin to

rally others around them, lighting others on fire as well. As this begins to happen, greed sets in

and those people begin to seek for power. This is much like what happened in the French

Revolution. People with this mindset will have a very oppressive idea of “justness” and they will

normally use force to instagate their idea of justice.

     The last dangerous type of Thymos is actually not dangerous in and of itself. Its presence

makes it so that the other two types can function, making this, in my opinion, the most lethal of

the three. This is a domesticated Thymos. Thymotic behavior is essential for liberty and freedom

because it invites all to stand up for what they believe. It is this same behavior that caused early

Americans to fight for liberty. When that behavior is removed, you have complacency and

apathy. This is why the “active” part of any majority is the part that has the power. A person who

doesn’t stand for anything will fall for everything. These people might not agree with their immoral

leaders, but they won’t do anything about it. When one of those flaming groups of powerseekers

begins their quest, these people won’t care what’s happening (as it won’t hurt them). They will be

caught in the fire and throw their lives away for a selfish tyrant and a cause to which they don’t

even understand or really care about. This is the kind of Thymos that is destroying America as

we speak.

       Thymos was something greatly understood by ancient peoples throughout the world. It

was the source of many great political changes like the Magna Charta, Declaration of

Independence, and the Constitution. But when not harnessed appropriately it has also led to

some of the worst moments of history, times like the Holocaust, the Rwandan Genocide, and the

Communist movement. We can see the need to awaken those who don’t have any passion, and

to stand up for the true sense of eternal justice. Some have been pushing their personal idea of

“justness” upon what we thought was true “justice.” In truth, this process has been in motion for

years. We are at a crossroads of freedom and bondage predicted by Plato. I swear that I will

take up the reigns of my chariot and guide my passions and appetites down a road towards

freedom. I can only hope that you will join with me in this Race for Liberty.