On the Monastic Life

It seems that God keeps putting odd monastics into my path. My favorite Christian singer (and probably favorite singer/songwriter of all time), Rich Mullins, lived a semi-monastic life. The only life of a saint I was required to read in school was the life of Saint Frances, who began his own monastic order. I recently read a fascinating novel that my priest recommended, and the main character was a Trappist monk (until he became Pope, that is). I have a friend who I hear is considering becoming a monk. I go to parish retreats with my church at a retreat house run by the Sisters of the Holy Nativity, and participate in a monastic life for about 2 days every 6 months or so.

All this, on top of my feeling that I'm supposed to stay single. Do I think that God wants me to be a nun? No, I'm pretty sure he doesn't. I'm not a "nunish" sort. I think I like wearing colorful clothes a bit too much! :) (I'm only half joking about that).

But maybe I'm supposed to be considering a monastic lifestyle. I know I don't want to be the secular image of the single woman, sexy and powerful, conquering all foes in a smart business outfit with perfectly matching high heels. I am very much NOT interested in being that! But neither do I want to be the stereotypical old maid with 20 cats. I will be the old maid with 5 cats. :) Kidding again! But still....

I have realized lately that I have too much stuff. None of it's great, or very high quality. There's just a lot of it. I think I want to simplify my life. For instance in clothes: the clothes that I enjoy and wear the most are the ones that I've made and/or altered myself. If I limited myself to clothes like that, with the occasional plain shirt or pair of paints thrown in, then I would have fewer things in my closet, AND would enjoy the ones I've got a lot more. I don't want to stop trying to look nice, because that's too easy for me. I slip into that naturally, and it just doesn't look good. I slip into the stereotypical "overweight single girl" image, and that's not edifying it anyone. Not to me, not to anyone who sees me, and I think that in my case it would not really glorify God. It's taken 21 years for me to get a clue that maybe the temple of the Holy Spirit should not look like an old run-down shed. A living sacrifice should probably not look like death warmed over. I know some girls who are radiant without makeup; in fact, one of them is a very good friend of mine. I envy them, but I know that I'm not one of them. I hope to be someday, but at the moment that's not the case. Plus, I tend to be in a better mood when I know that I look nice. And while I don't want to become fanatical about them, there's no sense in putting obstacles in front of myself when there's no need to. And, as it is, my makeup is not complex; it takes me about 3 minutes to put it on. As long as getting ready to go in the morning still takes me only about 20 minutes, I figure I'm not too obsessed with my appearance.

Do I have too many books? I never can decide. I like books, and make good use of most of them, so I think I'm ok on that regard. And I don't have that many junk books. It may be time to turn some of my Star Wards books into the library book sale (except for the ones by Michael Stackpole, which are still cool), along with some of the Clive Cussler books (except Atlantis Found). But on the whole, I have a good library that shows a lot of diversity. I think I'm ok on that regard.

What about what I eat? Surely I can simplify that. Focus more on vegetables (which are cheaper than meat anyway), lots of rice and grains, a little cheese, and lots of milk. Most of humanity has lived just fine on that diet for thousands of years. Besides, I really like pasta and rice, and am not that jazzed about beef or pork. I do like chicken and fish, which are pretty good for me.

So...will I actually do this? I don't know. I'm not always great at following through on resolutions, until I specifically will to do them. I hope I have the courage to act on this.

Lord Jesus Christ, son of God, have mercy on me, a sinner.
I am not worthy that Thou shouldst come under my roof, but speak the word only and my soul shall be healed.

I think, if I was pressed to say what heresy I hate most, it would have to be the worst of the "Word of Faith" movement, also known as "blab it and grab it" or "name it and claim it."

While this movement seems so friendly at first, with everyone telling you that you need only ask for what you need/want, it can get very nasty. For instance: if faith is a force like electricity(taught by Kenneth Copeland, among others) that you can use, then why are some prayers not answered? Because the asker didn't have enough faith, or the right kind of faith, or the right words to unlock the faith...and so on and so forth.

This in the end eliminates trust in God to know what he's doing. The believer ends up trusting only himself, and driving himself into madness when life simply does not go his way.

This is profoundly evil, and incredibly tempting. After all, isn't it nice to believe that God wants to give you only what you want? But this is evil, divisive, and deeply unbiblical.

In this view, how do you view the sick in your church? Oh, they must not have enough faith: I'm healthy, so God likes me better. Well, tell that to Joni Earickson Tada. How do you view the poor or homeless, on this view? Oh, they must not have faith enough for what they need. I don't need to help them, they need to help themselves.

If I had to pick my most hated heresy, this would be it.

Ok, so I know I haven't been blogging much lately; things have been crazy.

Yes, the art department is still being a pain in the neck. I think they're determined to give me a mental breakdown. The process goes something like this:

Joi: *doing something that she finds fascinating and really ejoys*

Art profs: Well, this isn't particularly relevant [tell me, by the way, was Van Gogh "relevant"? I'm no great artist, but relevant isn't the main criteria for art]. Why don't you look at these other artists and try to do this or that thing to your stuff.

Joi: *goes off and does something that seems to be more acceptable, even though she doesn't care as much about it*

Art profs: Why are you doing this stuff? I thought you liked the stuff you were doing earlier, why aren't you still doing it? You don't seem to care about this new stuff as much; you need to do work you're passionate about.

ARRRRGGGGGGHHHHHH!! I just want to get them off my back long enough to graduate!

"To be hurt, to feel lost,
To be left out in the dark,
To be kicked when you're down,
To feel like you've been pushed around,
To be on the edge of breaking down
And no-one's there to save you"

Is everyone in the art department like this? No. Have all my art classes been worthless? No. I had one art teacher who was EXCELLENT and taught me a lot. But he's gone now, and some of the other profs talk about how he was good, but his work was SO traditional, like it's a bad thing. BLEH!

In all my classes that were not taught by that prof, I cannot remember any discussions of objective beauty, aesthetics, optics, color theory, or realy philosophy of art; not even any mention of painters from before the 20th century(except in art history when it was necessary, and even then not all of those classes)! This is a trade school for art, not a liberal arts program. Shouldn't art majors spend a majority of time talking about these things? Aren't they essential to art?? Or am I just going mad?

I'm going to survive this, though, if for no other reason than to spite them. They can't keep me down.

You know you hate your major when you wake up in a panic over a dream concerning your classes....and it's only the third week of school.

I don't want to do this "artsy" thing anymore. I'll never be a great (even even good!) artist, and I'm fine with that. I don't resent any of my colleagues' comments on my craftsmanship. But I do resent being expected to act, dress, and think like the rest of the art department.

NO, I don't want to join the feminists' club on campus, even though most if not all of the other art girls are there.

NO, I don't want to make fun of the war, the President, or the fact that the rest of the school is predominantly Republican.

NO, I don't want to make fun of Biola and claim that I'm only here because of the art department.

NO, I don't want to make artists who want to work with words as words change and work with words as mere visual things.

NO, I don't want to play the oppressed art major who can't put up the show I want because it might offend the backwards traditionalist Biola community. (Biola is actually pretty good about art; they just don't like to see stuff that mocks their beliefs or is offensive in vulgar or sexual ways)

NO, I don't want to make tongue-in-cheek traditional art. I want to make REAL traditional art.

NO, I don't want to shove Biola's face in something because it's "good for them," or they "need to learn from it." I want to help Biola see beauty and see God, through visual mediums. I want them to be visually literate, not rub their faces in stuff they find offensive.

NO, I don't want to mock homeschoolers as being "unsocialized" (I went to school to get an education not to be socialized) or traditional.

NO, I will not sell out my fundamentalist heritage because some fundamentalists do dumb things. I am proud of that heritage, and I want to reclaim it.

I don't know if I'm going to make it through one more year of the art department; it just about makes me sick to walk into my classes, they're so stressful. At the moment, I'm taking the "sitting down and shutting up" approach to classes.

Please pray for me: I'm still sick to a certain extent, extremely tired, and I DO NOT WANT TO DO MY ART CLASSES. Ever.

I think I'm going into another depressive cycle, and I don't know why. I had this all under control, and I don't know why I can't seem to get my feet under me this year. Please pray that I find solid footing.

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This is me:


Abraham Lincoln You have a Bible and a library
card what more could you possibly need? You
prefer the Charlotte Mason Method of reading
living books for everything: historical
fiction, biographies, real histories, nature
guides, etc. No soon-to-be-outdated textbooks
for you. Visit my blog:


What Type of Homeschooler Are You?
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These are my relatives:


Martha Stewart No project is simple for you,
everything is very involved; lace, ruffles, and
flowers make it a good thing. Your curriculum
is heavy on fine arts: art
appreciation/recognition, historical
architecture, music, creative writing, and
literary classics. If your students absorb a
little math and science along the way, so much
the better. Visit my blog:


What Type of Homeschooler Are You?
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This style is more correctly called the "Elsie Dinsmore" method, but hey.....

Did you know that listening to 10+ chapels at double-speed can make you feel like you're on speed? Or the speakers are on speed. Or something. Yeah.

I gotta sleep.

Did you know that listening to 10+ chapel cds at double-speed can make you feel like you're on speed? Or like the speakers are on speed. Or something. Yeah.

I need sleep.

The Communion of Saints

I think that we, as evangelicals, have lost a lot by discarding all knowledge of the saints of history. We know most of them through John the Evangelist, but then we have no heroes until Martin Luther comes on the scene. At the moment, I don't want to get into icons, or how much attention should be given to the saints; good topics all, but not my purpose at the moment.

While listening to chapel tapes for school, I heard a speaker talking about how we tend to think that biblical figures are so great and beyond us that we could never do what they did. If all we look at is the relatively small number of saints mentioned in the Scriptures, then it is easy to get the impression that these are superhuman people.

But there have been numerous saints other than the ones mentioned. There are saints of all shapes, sizes, races, and personalities. Some were more "successful" than others; some die young, some die old; some are martyred, some live long full lives and die peacefully.

We are all the saints of God. There is no disconnect between us and Paul, no gap of thousands of years. The Holy Spirit preserves His Church; He gives the same strength now as He did two thousand years ago.

Also, the saints are wonderful role models: would you rather your kid hear stories of rock stars and big name atheletes, who maybe made their own way in life (which is, let me hasten to say, admirable) or hear the stories of thousands of men and women of God, down through the ages?

Let me put this another way: one of the most popular comic book series (and current movie series) is the X-Men. For those of you not familiar with the X-Men, let me summarize the basics: Over the past few years, some people have begun to "mutate," and develop strange powers. These people are ostracized from society; some deal with it by striking back at non-mutants, others (led by the great Professor Xavier) seek to help those who have tried to exclude them.

Now to my point: why are the X-Men so popular? One main reason is the sheer number of unique characters: any person can find at least one that they really identify with(my personal favorite is Nightcrawler).

It is the same with the stories of the saints: I may not identify too well with Paul, or John, or Peter. But I can identify with Therese of Liseaux, or Mother Theresa, or Saint John of the Cross. Why have we been denied these stories? When we see only a handful of people who lived two thousand years ago, it is easy to think that these were supermen, and we can never measure up. However, when we see an unbroken chain of thousands, over two millenia, then we know that we can indeed, become like them.

Nemo enim coronabitur nisi qui legitime certaverit. (For no-one is crowned except he who has striven lawfully.)

Debate this!

It's high time we had a bit of lively discussion on here. I am working on an essay/article about the relationship between love and sex. Here's my premise(I don't know if the formatting will turn out weird; if so, I apologize):

I. Abstinence programs have some of the right ideas, but they are fatally flawed.

II. The surrounding culture assumes that if you love someone, then you express it through sex.
A. This leads to difficulty in maintaining close male/female friendships, because any loving feelings get interpreted as sexual desire.
B. It also leads to widespread promiscuity, because most people deeply love more than one person over the course of their lives.
C. This leads, as well, to increased homosexual behaviour, since one can deeply love a member of the same gender.

III. Abstinence programs simply tell kids to wait to express love; they do not challenge the basic flawed assumptions. They appear to agree that love equals sex.

My (current) concluding paragraph of the article: "We assume that lifelong celibates are cold and loveless (and perhaps not quite right in the head!). We fear expressing our love to our close friends, for fear that our actions will be 'misinterpreted.' We have forgotten that 'true love casts out fear.'We have been too fearful, and we must now learn to love again."

Raised Gnostic

"Sacraments are outward and visible signs of inward and spiritual grace, given by Christ as sure and certain means by which we receive that grace. "

Why do we need these outward signs? Simply because we are human, a strange amphibious joining of body and soul. But we no longer think of ourselves as such.

I realized recently that most Western Christians, myself included, have been raised to be gnostics.The primary doctrines of gnosticism are something like this:

1. Matter is evil.
2. Spirit is good.
3. Your body is evil since it is material, but your soul is good.
4. It doesn't matter what you do with your body, since it is already evil.(note: yes, I know this is a dramatic over-simplification. But it's true enough for government work)

Almost every person I knew growing up insisted that the material world and their own bodies were evil and "of the flesh," though no-one took much time to explain what was meant by that. But the goal of everyone's life was to "be more spiritual." Not more obedient, charitable, or disciplined. Spiritual. (No-one ever thought to remind us that the Devil is pure spirit....)

This leads inevitably to the idea that your body can do what it likes, since it's not "spiritual" and can't really hurt you. In fact, it's to be expected that your body do evil, since it is itself hopelessly evil in its mere existence.Why were we raised this way? A whole generation of Western children were raised to think that they must choose between body and soul. When the body proved strong, they chose it over soul. None of us were taught to unite the two. In fact, most of us would have taken this uniting to be evil, since the body is an evil prison for the soul; why join soul to material grossness? We should be working to seperate the two as much as possible.

We used to know that our souls control our bodies, and our bodies influence our souls. But we have come to believe that our physical brains control our bodies, and our souls just float around somewhere inside of us. Naturalism need not deny the existence of the soul, only deny its link to the body.


As a consequence, none of us learned to use spirit to subdue body, or body to inform spirit. We did not kneel in prayer because "physical position doesn't really matter," so we lost prayer as a discipline and became too proud to kneel. We gave up fasting because "works don't save us," and so became gluttons.


Sacrament unites soul and body. As we kneel at the altar, our souls learn humility. As we meditate on the mystery of Christ's sacrifice, our bodies receive nourishment of bread and wine. But we have decided to divide soul and body, and see our bodies only as a prison or cage of the soul. We think that death is the only purgation needed; as soon as our souls are free from this "crude matter," our souls will be completely pure. But if soul and body are united, then everything we do here in this life drives us towards or away from perfection. Even after death, there may be work to do (though I do believe that it is IMPOSSIBLE to work one's way into Heaven), we may still be learning long after we die. But this life prepares us for the life to come.


We were never meant to be disembodied spirits floating about Heaven. We are made for Earth, and it for us. We have both become disfigured, but not disintegrated. We believe in a new earth and a new Jerusalem, which will be our home. We believe in a bodily resurrection of the dead, and that our souls will be forever united with our bodies. And it is here and now, while our bodies and souls are joined, that we will learn how to live in eternity.


Lord, I am not worthy that Thou shouldst come under my roof; but speak the word only and my soul shall be healed

Yeah yeah yeah, I need to blog more often. Maybe after summer is over, when I'm no longer working 4 jobs and fighting off pneumonia.

"I believe in...the communion of saints"

This sentence in the Nicene Creed has always fascinated me. Who are the saints, and what communion is this? Much has been written about this subject that is infinitely better than any exegesis I could give, so I'll not bother pontificating about the main points of it. Go read a commentary about it, or something.

But it does fascinate me. Lately I have really enjoyed reading a book that my college library has, called Letters from Saints to Sinners. Not all the letters are from canonized saints, nor are the recipients necessarily sinners, but it is a collection of letters from great Christians of the past (mostly saints) to their friends and families. And somehow, reading the correspondence of the saints gives me a hope to carry on. They were human, like me. They had people to talk to and business to settle. But God so infused every part of their lives as to transform it. Most of them, in their letters, simply never stop talking about God. Every good thing is seen as a blessing direct from God, and every bad thing is seen as an opportunity to be faithful to God during trials.

And somehow, I am in community with these wonderful people. How? I'm not entirely sure. Through grace, I know, but how that works out exactly I can't imagine. But I know that I want very much to be like them.

Ok, first blog in awhile! Heh. Yeah. Gosh, it feels like so much has happened in the past few weeks...

Number one: I have gotten hooked on the writings of fantasy author Terry Brooks. My roommate Liz got me started. I read his Word and the Void trrilogy first, and it was phenomenal. You know how you can read a story, and know that your way of thinking will never be quite the same afterward? That's how it is with these. My favorite of his books, so far, has been the Elfstones of Shannara. I won't give away the ending, but it resonated so powerfully with circumstances in my life that I spent much of the evening crying over the book! A beautiful story....

Number two: I went to my former roommate's wedding! I was there when she met the guy who is now her husband, and most of my long-time college friends were there. I was having so much fun I actually got out on the dance floor!! Shocking, I know. But I was having too much fun to be my usual wallflower self.

One of my favorite songs by my favorite Christian musician, Rich Mullins.

I've gone so far from my home
I've seen the world and I have known
So many secrets
I wish now I did not know
'Cause they have crept into my heart
They have left it cold and dark
And bleeding,
Bleeding and falling apart

And everybody used to tell me big boys don't cry
Well I've been around enough to know that that was the lie
That held back the tears in the eyes of a thousand prodigal sons
Well we are children no more, we have sinned and grown old
And our Father still waits and He watches down the road
To see the crying boys come running back to His arms
And be growing young
Growing young

I've seen silver turn to dross
Seen the very best there ever was
And I'll tell you, it ain't worth what it costs
And I remember my father's house
What I wouldn't give right now
Just to see him and hear him tell me that he loves me so much

And everybody used to tell me big boys don't cry
Well I've been around enough to know that that was the lie
That held back the tears in the eyes of a thousand prodigal sons
Well we are children no more, we have sinned and grown old
And our Father still waits and He watches down the road
To see the crying boys come running back to His arms

And when I thought that I was all alone
It was your voice I heard calling me back home
And I wonder now Lord
What it was that made me wait so long
And what kept You waiting for me all that time
Was Your love stronger than my foolish pride
Will You take me back now, take me back and let me be Your child

'Cause I've been broken now, I've been saved
I've learned to cry, and I've learned how to pray
And I'm learning, I'm learning even I can be changed

And everybody used to tell me big boys don't cry
Well I've been around enough to know that that was the lie
That held back the tears in the eyes of a thousand prodigal sons
Well we are children no more, we have sinned and grown old
And our Father still waits and He watches down the road
To see the crying boys come running back to His arms
And be growing young
Growing young
Growing young

Francis Schaeffer and the Love of Culture

A year ago, I read several books by Francis Schaeffer, primarily his classic How Should We Then Live? Like many artistically minded readers before me, I found myself not only touched by his love of culture, but inspired to respond to culture.

Schaeffer provided hope for Christian artists when there was little hope to be found. What was a Christian artist to do in the 60's and 70's? Art was incomprehensible to anyone not trained in the current trends, and many Christians believed that visual art was past saving, at least in the professional realm. The same seemed to hold true for movies and music. If a young Christian was intent on being an artist (or author or musician) and retaining the goodwill of his fellow Christians, he had to make specifically religious art, usually of a rather predictable and cliched variety. An artist had to be either part of the mostly irrelevant church subculture or abandon the church tradition that he had been brought up in.

Schaeffer offered hope to these young artists (as well as successive generations of artists). He taught people how to analyze and understand culture, and how to love what was really good, without consuming what was harmful. He taught the artists to be discerning. He used art history to inspire artists to make art that was truly progressive, rather than merely innovative. Schaeffer called for good art that engaged culture, instead of ignoring it; he called for art that might be criticized, but could not be ignored.

He believed, and helped others to believe, that Christian art should be of the highest quality, and not merely well-intentioned.

Thank God for men with vision, like Francis Schaeffer. God grant us the grace to live up to his vision.

In the past few months, I have had to face some hard truths about my ways of relating to people, and the sort of people I have tended to relate to in past years. I recently finished the book Safe People, by Dr. Henry Cloud and Dr. John Townsend. This book confirmed in me a series of thoughts I'd been recently having.

A few months ago, as many of you know, I decided to stop pursuing marriage(not that I won't get married, I'm just not actively looking anymore). It had been the goal of my life until that point. I was raised with the idea that marriage is the norm, and that it is a great good (I still believe this). I always heard advice about "when you get married...", never "if you get married." Also, I had had some issues in the past (this is not the place to go into detail with any of this), and my response to these things ended up making me, in this area, what Dr. Cloud and Dr. Townsend call an unsafe person. And, to make it worse, I did not know that I was unsafe.

So, to make an already long point a bit shorter, reading Safe People confirmed to me that my decision was, in fact, a good one, and gave me the words to explain this decision to others:

Because I know that I am unsafe in this area, it is wrong to expect anyone to enter into a relationship in order for me to be "fixed." I therefore, of my own free will, choose to abstain in this area in order to become "safe" for others to be around.

Lord Jesus Christ, have mercy of me, a sinner.
Speak the word only and my soul shall be healed.

Anybody know an iconographer who wants an Anglican apprentice?

On Meaning and Naive Art

Today I went to a critique in which the various heads of the art department critiqued my work of the past year and gave me ideas for directions in which I should go with my art. They were not too fond of the manuscripts I've been doing lately.

Let me first say: Much of their criticism was warranted, and I will take most of their advice. The pages are the wrong size, my compositions need work, and my plain craftsmanship needs to come up another hundred notches.

However.

One of the main critiques of the manuscripts was that it was "naive art," like that of Howard Finster. It was then stated that I couldn't get away with that, having had actual art training. Over the course of the interview, it began to seem as though "naive art" really meant "simple images that everyone understands." Well....What's wrong with that? I make art to communicate, and so use forms that communicate easily. Just as no speaker would stuff his mouth with lettuce while speaking, neither do I desire to conceal my meaning from anyone.

It was also said that it is not legitimate art to try to reproduce manuscripts when that age has passed. Why not? Maybe then I should just be a craftsman (craftswoman? craftess?) making beautiful things because they're beautiful and people like them. I see nothing wrong with it, and many things right with it. Why should art have to push the envelope ever farther?

So. What do I do? I refuse to make meaningless art. I do not think that anything meaningless can be art. I will work on my craftsmanship, I will try new materials, and I will try something new with the manuscripts. But I refuse to give up the symbols by which I speak. I will not be mute. The great artists have always used archetypes and ancient symbols to reach the depths of their audience. Tolkien, as well as Dante, used the image of the pure woman (Galadriel, Beatrice) as a bringer of grace. Eliot, as well as the medieval mystics, uses the image of roses and fire. I will not cut the symbols from their meanings and make my own. That which is truly new and unique is cut off from everything else and fades away. Lewis says it best in The Abolition of Man:

"A theorist about language may approach his native tongue, as it were from outside, regarding its genius as a thing that has no claim on him and advocating wholesale alterations of its idiom and spelling in the interests of commercial convenience or scientific accuracy. That is one thing. A great poet, who has 'loved, and been well nurtured in his mother tongue, may also make great alterations in it, but his changes of the language are made in the spirit of the language itself; he works from within. The language which suffers, has also inspired, the changes. That is a different thing - as different as the works of Shakespeare are from basic English. It is the difference between alteration from within and alteration from without: between the organic and the surgical[...]It is the difference between a man who says to us: 'You like your vegetables moderately fresh; why not grow your own and have them perfectly fresh?' and a man who says, 'Throw away that loaf and try eating bricks and centipedes instead.'

Those who understand the spirit of the Tao and who have been led by that spirit can modify it in directions which that spirit itself demands. Only they can know what those directions are. The outsider knows nothing about the matter. His attempts at alteration, as we have seen, contradict themselves. So far from being able to harmonize discrepancies in its letter by penetration to its spirit, he merely snatches at some one precept, on which the accidents of time and place happen to have riveted his attention, and then rides it to death - for no reason that he can give. From with the Tao itself comes the only authority to modify the Tao."

I cannot and will not wrench the symbols to do my bidding. I must be content to sit, study, learn, and meditate, and learn how to use symbols properly.

God grant that I be forgiven for badmouthing Thomas Kinkeade all these years: we both just want to make beautiful things that lots of people understand and like.

God have mercy on me. Speak the word only and my soul shall be healed.

I just want to have an impact on someone...Everyone's leaving me, and it seems like I've done so little for them...Like I've been helped so much more than I've helped...Sometimes I feel like a ghost just drifting through my landscape, not really interacting with anything there....I don't know.

We all begin with good intent
Love was raw and young
We believed that we could change ourselves
THe past could be undone
But we carry on our backs the burden
Time always reveals
The lonely light of morning
The wound that would not heal
It's the bitter taste of losing everything
That I have held so dear.

I've fallen...
I have sunk so low
I have messed up
Better I should know
So don't come round here
And tell me I told you so...

Heaven bent to take my hand
Nowhere left to turn
I'm lost to those I thought were friends
To everyone I know
Oh they turned their heads embarassed
Pretend that they don't see
But it's one missed step
You'll slip before you know it
And there doesn't seem a way to be redeemed
(Fallen, by Sarah McLachlan)