now that i’m out, i like stretching a LOT! and i’m quite limber! AND i guess the other “bright side” is that i know what it’s like to feel imprisoned, so freedom is extra wonderful! thanks for posting!
Oh My Goodness. David, I wrote a word picture poem that goes with your cartoon. Here:
Contingency Plan
When you kink your neck
into a right angle,
unscrew your left arm
and tuck it under your foot,
cramp your legs
into a pretzel,
confine your joy
in a thimble
when still you cannot fulfill
the box of expectations…
then it’s time to reattach your arm
so you can massage your neck and legs
…and redefine your reason.
fat radical
April 8, 2010 | 12:36 pm
You need to lose weight mate, then you will fit in as one of the new Christian beautiful people on God TV, as well as the box. Look good & keep smiling, that’s the answer.
Christine
April 8, 2010 | 1:00 pm
So totally relate to this :0)
Cindy
April 8, 2010 | 1:02 pm
I mean, so totally relate to this :0)
Sorry Christine, some day I’ll learn…
Christine
April 8, 2010 | 1:16 pm
I was wondering if there was another Christine, here. Then, even before I read the next post, I figured it was you, Cindy… *sigh*
It’s weird, though, for us because although we left the box in many ways, we are also still integrated to a large extent in the insitutional church, and we feel its affects.
God gives us rules for a reason. It is “organized religion” for a reason.
Not everything goes. We’re too sinful to just think we can do whatever we want and get to God whatever way we please. That gives us more power than God.
God is the Almighty one, not us.
Christine
April 8, 2010 | 11:22 pm
Lauren – I doubt the box represents what God actually wants for our lives. Organized religion and the rules of institutions are a far cry from the things God asks of us for our own good.
I still walk with a limp…
now that i’m out, i like stretching a LOT! and i’m quite limber! AND i guess the other “bright side” is that i know what it’s like to feel imprisoned, so freedom is extra wonderful! thanks for posting!
dorsey: looks more like a wiggle to me.
ya… stretching’s good.
Well, I try to make the best of it. lol
Whee! I picture the next frame as someone busting out and jumping for joy!
ya! k8. a jack in the box!
That’s about it!
Oh My Goodness. David, I wrote a word picture poem that goes with your cartoon. Here:
Contingency Plan
When you kink your neck
into a right angle,
unscrew your left arm
and tuck it under your foot,
cramp your legs
into a pretzel,
confine your joy
in a thimble
when still you cannot fulfill
the box of expectations…
then it’s time to reattach your arm
so you can massage your neck and legs
…and redefine your reason.
You need to lose weight mate, then you will fit in as one of the new Christian beautiful people on God TV, as well as the box. Look good & keep smiling, that’s the answer.
So totally relate to this :0)
I mean, so totally relate to this :0)
Sorry Christine, some day I’ll learn…
I was wondering if there was another Christine, here. Then, even before I read the next post, I figured it was you, Cindy… *sigh*
It’s weird, though, for us because although we left the box in many ways, we are also still integrated to a large extent in the insitutional church, and we feel its affects.
Wow! People huh?! These are the reasons I chose to believe in God from home!
…I see this more within our larger congregations staff and leadership positions…wonderful ministries and outreach, just not so friendly anymore.
Not really feeling pity for anyone here.
God gives us rules for a reason. It is “organized religion” for a reason.
Not everything goes. We’re too sinful to just think we can do whatever we want and get to God whatever way we please. That gives us more power than God.
God is the Almighty one, not us.
Lauren – I doubt the box represents what God actually wants for our lives. Organized religion and the rules of institutions are a far cry from the things God asks of us for our own good.
Whaddayaknow,
but I guess we are trying to fit rounded pegs in square holes…
Nice cartoon. Thanks for reminding me of the first thirty years of my life.