Though Issues generally include an “instrumental” style track, this is the first not to be credited to Ty “Scout” Acord, the band’s turntable artist and. Sep 03, 2008 Song from Jem's forthcoming album 'Down to Earth'. This was featured at the end of the 90210 episode that premiered 9-2-08. Lyrics: VERSE: I always knew I. [Verse 1] F Dm Down, down in my bones Bb Somewhere I'd never ever known C Right at the back of my head F Dm It h.

I always knew Santa was make-believe. My parents taught me Jesus was the reason for the season, God’s free gift to all who believe in him. They never lied to me about anything, including Santa Claus.

A few years ago, I watched a little boy after a funeral. He seemed oblivious to the conversation occurring over his head until one grownup exclaimed: “I still believed in Santa Claus then!” Beneath them, the child’s eyes and mouth popped open. Laughter riffled the air.

He searched upward for his parents. But they were laughing and never met his startled gaze. I recalled that boy’s alarm when my husband, Phil, and I tried to tell friends that our beliefs had changed. “What beliefs?” “God.” Startled silence. Jaws dropped, eyes wide. “You can’t mean that,” one said.

Patch Za Pes 2009 New. Phil and I were ordained ministers. I had accepted Jesus as my Savior when I was four at the altar of a revival tent in New York’s Catskill Mountains. Britten Sacred And Profane Pdf there. Growing up in those woods, I talked to Jesus—not an audible conversation so much as my heart’s constant refrain of love and gratitude. When we married in 1965, I called Phil my “second best friend.” Even after I became a feminist, I seldom questioned familiar creeds. The idea of domination no longer fit my worldview. So, I asked Jesus, “Is there a name I can call you instead of Lord?” “Sure,” came the lighthearted reply: “Call me Cramps.” I laughed at this divine nod to women’s bleeding and birth pangs. That was the sort of conversation God and I had: a relaxed, confident projection of my own evolving beliefs.

I could not account for other people’s beliefs about God. In 2003, when President George W.

Bush grew impatient with the search for weapons of mass destruction and launched his tragic invasion of Iraq, I suspected he thought he was hearing from God, like Joshua at Jericho. He seemed to think Iraqis would eagerly lay down their arms before our triumphant Lord. On public radio, I heard a teenage brother and sister describe their reasons for enlisting, beginning with their mistaken belief that Iraq had attacked us on 9/11.

She was 17 and eager to leave school. He was 19, heading for boot camp. Was he afraid to die? No, he said: “I’m a Christian. So, I know where I’m going.” Islamic fundamentalists likewise promised teen recruits eternal glory of martyrdom and paradise. Allahu Akbar!

God bless America! Religious slogans in these contexts made me sick. Bush declared that he had to invade Iraq because God wanted to set people free. I paced our empty church and told the President: “You just cut my umbilical cord to Christianity.” I had no idea what that meant. If President Bush was like a midwife, cutting my connection to those lifelong beliefs, then what new life was being born?