impact

i think a lot.  very often, i think about how i can do well in my classes whilst remaining sane and also not a complete hermit.  but for the past... oh, 6 months or so--when i haven't been thinking about surviving college--i've been thinking a lot about just how much i've received from people in my life, and about what i can give back to people, rather than just receiving from them all the time.  in a way, i've been doing what a lot of people my age (and, i suspect, other ages) do, which is trying to find "my place" in the world.  not so much like "Zuko, you must find your destiny," but more like your everyday, "what do i actually want to do with my life?"  because the more i think about it, the more convinced i am that finding a career path is not necessarily the same as finding what you want to do with your life.  there is so much more that i want out of life, and that i want to contribute with my life, besides having a job.  i mean, that's obviously a decent part of it, but not the whole by a long shot.

so anyway, i've been thinking about what i want to contribute to people, and what i can bring to the table, and so on.  as a Christian, it might be a bit easier, because i at least have a heading.  i at least have the knowledge (perspective) that Jesus is ultimately the Savior of the world, and that the world would do well to remember that.  in fact, it may just be the most important thing for them that people know and build their lives around this truth.  and i have spent time thinking about ways that people communicate this so that other people will listen.

an obvious solution for a Christian looking to spread God's truth is to become some kind of a Christian preacher or teacher or missionary.  now in a sense, all Christians are called to be preachers and teachers and missionaries, but i am referring to those who focus pretty much just on that, either as a career, or as something that takes the place of a career (like someone sponsored to do those things).  i think this is fantastic, and i think we need those people.  maybe someday i will be equipped and "called" to do that.

however, there is something else that has come into my mind recently.  i have not met very many people in my limited experience who did not know about God, but were open-minded enough for my words to make a difference to them.  i think it's because it didn't seem relevant to them.  God seemed distant and far off, unrelated to anything they were facing in their own lives, or maybe even antagonizing things about their lives.  obviously, this is pretty problematic, considering this was not God's design for people at all.  the solution?  make it relevant.

i remember spending a lot of time in youth group, and eventually time outside of youth group, learning how to make things relevant.  it has to do with finding out the heart of what God was saying when he inspired people to write the Bible.  usually the most impactful things were the ones that seemed to answer a need i had at the time.

but most people in the world have much more than emotional and mental needs.  and if those needs go unmet, a lot of people aren't in a place to receive what God has to say.  Jesus always recognized this in his ministry.  he would often heal someone, or feed someone, or restore someone, and then afterwards he would deliver God's truth to them--because then he had credibility to them and they were ready to listen.

stupid insecurities again

i have a confession to make.  oftentimes, i get deeply hurt and upset when i see my friends spending a lot of time together, not simply without me, but especially without inviting me to be with them.

i'm pretty sure i've written about this, or at least similar things, here before.  this is maybe the thing about myself that i dislike the most.  because i have no right to someone's friendship or their time.  and i need (desperately!) to learn to let go of that selfishness that holds me in that place, because it eats me alive (figuratively i hope).

i suspect that probably most people who would read this need no explanation.  but in case you're thinking "are you serious?  what is the big deal?  can't you share your friends?"  i agree.  i'm glad for you, hypothetical devil's advocate, that your emotions match up to your rational mindset.  mine do not, unfortunately.  so here's the sort of thing that goes through my head:

"oh, i see that these people are together.  man, i wish i could be there!  oh, but i wasn't invited anyway.  but why?  i thought we were all friends!  but they must be closer friends than i knew.  they just have a connection that they don't have with me.  maybe they just humor me and let me tag along with them because they are so nice and don't want me to be left out.  ha!  so much for that.  i wish i had known all along how it really was, so that i could've saved the effort.  i'm sure they didn't mean to hurt me; they just didn't think about it.  i wish i knew them better, so that i could be in that inner circle with them.  it's probably that weird thing that i do that disgusts or unnerves them.  or maybe i'm just too boring, or too childish.  that other person is so much cooler anyway..."

just to clarify, if i didn't have any friends that i wasn't super close with, i would never get anything done, because i would have no energy ever, because i would be so involved in the lives of everyone.  but it still doesn't stop the insecurity from creeping in.

understanding others complexly

a lot of people i know are very interested in different personalities and temperaments and gifts and traits.  i am too, actually.  i think the why behind the way people are is fascinating.  but i think it's easy to go overboard.

tests like the four temperaments, or the myers-briggs, or the colors, or the enneagram numbers, are helpful because they help you understand the way you are, and the way you work with other people, and why you work that way.  but i think it's also important to remember that they are ways of categorizing pre-existing people.  so even though we can put similar people into boxes together, that doesn't define them in their entirety--not by a long shot.  obviously, we're all different.  so it's important not to get caught up in placing your identity in a set of letters, or a number, or a color.

the paradox of glory

call me a blasphemer, but it seems contradictory that an apparently selfless God would create a whole universe, and all the life in it, for the sole purpose of glorifying him.  even if he alone out of all beings deserves worship, doesn't it seem self-serving to create the whole human race to worship him?  to say he does this to guide and fulfill us is partially satisfying, but i think there's more. 

because he is the very embodiment of love.  yet love for perfect situations or beings doesn't actually say very much.  as Jesus [sort of] once said, anyone can do that.  but love for a giant, sinful, disgusting mess goes beyond basic decency; it extends into the realm of grace.  it speaks to the nature of the Lover, or the Love itself.  isn't it feasible that God created an entire people for the purpose of pouring out his love in a way that proves to us how great and boundless it is?  and thus, we glorify him by accepting this love and grace.  and we reciprocate this one-way, undeserved love relationship by wearing this love and grace boldly, and by paying it forward.

learning how to be responsible... again???

lately i've been thinking a lot about how i'm going to make next semester more manageable.  the obvious things are there: get sleep, stay hydrated, eat right, get exercise. but even those require a plan rather than just a piecrust promise.

anyway, it all comes down to discipline and time management--two things which have not been my strong points lately.  i keep thinking about some advice that was given to me: to budget my time.

Mom and Dad were always experts about budgeting money.  no matter how little we had to work with, they were brilliant about making the necessary cuts to live on what we had.  Mom was a genius about estimating precisely how much everything would cost--she was generally within a few cents of the actual price.  and even in times when Mom and Dad were sure there wasn't going to be enough to cover even the bare minimum, God provided just what we needed.

now i've heard the phrase "budgeting time" a lot before, and i've always thought of it as just planning my time out well.  but what if time were actually like money?  i have many commitments and obligations at any given time.  those are my expenses.  fortunately, i have a steady stream of income--time is always coming.  i mean, it could potentially stop coming at any time, but then i wouldn't really have any of this to worry about, would i?  whew, that got dark quickly.  anyway, the big difference between time and money is that you can save money, but--as much as people use the phrase--you cannot save time.  at least, you can't save it up.  it's impossible.  whether you intentionally use it or not, it leaves you anyway.  i get into debt quickly when all my time drains and i still have expenses.  :(

so, how do i stay on top of my expenses with a bank account that is constantly emptying?  budgeting!  fortunately, the time draining does not keep me from using that time to pay off my expenses, if i use it right.  monetarily, i'm typically very frugal.  i like to save as much money as i can, so that expenses won't catch me unprepared.  the closest thing to saving time is paying off time expenses as soon as possible, and hoping that there will be extra time left over.  the more slowly i pay off those expenses, the more expensive they become.

sometimes i can splurge, spending extra time with friends or using more down time--but only if i have that extra time to spend.  yet i know that those things are necessary too.  so i think the key there is to budget that in as well, at least to an extent.

people use charts and notebooks to keep track of their finances.  i will start this with my time, using an actual planner.  i think this might help.

the outgo cannot exceed the income, so i must make cuts and be diligent.

*stops splurging and returns to work*

musings on faith

it seems like much of the American Christian community throws the word "faith" around quite liberally, without putting a lot of thought into what the word means.


faith

secular--belief in a religion

Christianese--blind belief

Webster--

• : strong belief or trust in someone or something
• : belief in the existence of God : strong religious feelings or beliefs
• : a system of religious beliefs

Bible--the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen




what the heck does this all mean?




i've been wondering a lot lately about the issue of choosing to believe in God, and to trust Him, and to believe that He is good.  and what about those who think they're choosing Him, but really aren't?  or those who have just as much faith in something/someone else?

i don't have answers to all these questions, but the other day i got a thought about faith.  but let me back up first.

the Christian religion is founded upon certain essential doctrinal points (don't worry, this won't all be a pain to read).  one of them is that God is sovereign--an all-powerful, supreme ruler: in this case, over all existence.  another is that God is good--righteous, just, loving, and always acting in the best interest of his people.  sounds like a perfect world, right?  but sadly, no. free will is a thing.  (the way God's sovereignty and man's free will work together is a thing for a different post[s].  for now, let it suffice to say that we have complete free will over our own lives.  AND at the same time, God is in complete control over the world AND active in it.)

so when people say that God is good, it's usually after something favorable has happened in their lives.  this could be taken (or meant) in one of a few different ways:

• something good has happened. therefore, it must be from God, because all good things come from Him, and he wants me to be happy.
• this is evidence that God is doing good in the world, so i should share this as a testimony.

ok, pause. 1) biblically, yes, God is the giver of all good things.  the problem is that our perception of "good" often isn't.  we don't possess adequate information or wisdom to consistently know what is, or what will be, good.  2) nowhere does it say in the Bible that God wants us to be happy.  i challenge anyone to find me a verse that explicitly says that; it will dramatically affect my theology.  if you find a verse that doesn't say that, but you interpret it to mean that God wants us to be happy, then i challenge you to a debate, or at least a discussion, on that topic.  it's not that i think God necessarily wants us to be unhappy.  but i mean, Jesus does essentially promise that we'll suffer if we're really following Him.  and there was the whole thing with Job.  and there are lots of other instances of God's faithful suffering and even dying because of Him.  i just don't think that our happiness is priority #1.  i think we're supposed to find more than that--joy regardless of circumstance--in Him.

"you forgot one."

ah yes. 3) yes, as Christians, we are supposed to share our testimony of God's work in our lives.  but should that be conditional upon our circumstances being to our liking?

reworded: is God's work only visible when everything in life looks pretty and tidy?  do unfavorable circumstances mean that God isn't in control at that time, or that he's stopped being good?  i think not...

"but surely, if God is good and in control, there should be a whole lot of good happening in the world, right?  like, everything should ultimately be made into something good?  isn't that what the Bible says? that all things work together for the good of those who love God?"

and?

"and are called according to His purpose?"

quite so.  and that's where faith comes in.

there's a phrase that aptly represents some people's belief in Christian doctrines: blind faith.  based on no reason or evidence.  and yet, the most miraculous effects of Christianity come from faith in God's Word.  faith as small as a mustard seed can move a mountain.  it's not the other way around, where faith comes from seeing a mountain moved.  faith is what comes first.

i don't fully know yet why someone brought up with approximately no exposure to God or Christianity should choose that over a different belief system, unless they personally were changed by it or knew of someone who was.  i guess that's where Christians come in (ideally).  what i do know is that i have no excuse to not have faith, given all i know about how my Lord changes lives.

finally, my thought: faith is what happens when you finally decide to stop waffling about whether or not God exists, and whether or not He's good, and whether or not He's sovereign.  you have to decide to believe those things.  does it have to be blind?  i don't think so.  i think those with the deepest faith have taken their beliefs into their own hands, examined them, measured them against their observations, and made them their own.  but faith is when you make a choice to believe something and let it change your perception of the world, rather than depending solely on your perception of the world to determine your belief in God.  it's risky for sure.  hence, "leap of faith."  but God is bigger than your perceptions and your little worldview.  faith is when that becomes evident.

"but what about all the crappy stuff?"

i don't claim to fully understand.  but faith, i think, is trusting that God is doing good things through that, using it for a bigger plan.




"I am in deeper pain than I've ever felt before.  And if you know anything about my life--I've been through some crappy stuff.  But God, I know you're still good!"

- a friend who shall remain anonymous

3D glasses

you get invited to a movie.  you've heard it's good.  the previews seem promising.

you go in.  someone hands you 3D glasses at the door.  you put them on as you sit down, and the movie starts.

it's everything you hoped for and more.  the plot line is compelling.  the actors make you forget they're acting at all.  the music is so creative that it makes you squirm.  the effects make the movie pop.  and the new technology in the 3D glasses makes it seem just like real life.  in fact, by now, you've entirely forgotten that you're watching a movie.

halfway through the movie your 3D glasses fall off.  you reach to put them back on, but you are distracted--nothing about the movie is the same.  all of the lines are out of place, and the effects which had seemed so captivating before are nothing more than blurry smudges of mixed-up color.  you cannot even make out the expressions on the actors' faces, so it's impossible to tell how good the acting really is.  the music is just as expressive, but it accompanies nothing on the screen.

you put the glasses back on, but you cannot get the blurred double images out of your head.  you wonder how it had you so entranced before that you got so lost in it.  you try to enjoy the movie.  it's still a good movie, but the effect is gone.

slightly disenchanted, you step outside into the cold night air.  next time, you decide, you will just see the regular version of the movie rather than its 3D counterpart.  even if it's not the same effect, you decide that you'd prefer a movie that doesn't depend on optical illusions.

inspirations: stop-motion

these were part of the reason i'm trying this technique out, just to see how it goes.  i like especially the combination of different effects and skills in these--it's more than just a cartoon (though those are cool too, but i especially like this).

(just remembered--i think i've mentioned this ^ one before, but oh well)

inspirations: the piano guys

these two videos are super cool (in my mind) because it's not just your traditional way of playing an instrument exactly the way it's supposed to be, playing music someone wrote ages ago.  they took existing songs (and instruments) and innovated them to make them new and original.

side note: here's a cool quote from the movie Apollo 13: "I don't care what anything was designed to do. I care about what it can do."

inspirations!!!

i'm going to put up some things that i've found on YouTube, and possibly some other places, of other people doing cool things.  this might seem lame, but let me explain why this belongs here.

at the end of the semester, basically, my soul had died.  i had no interest in any of the things that i had been doing during school, even things i normally enjoy.  it turns out that when i'm stressed, i not only think about different things, but my whole thought process and way of making decisions is entirely different.  i survived the semester and got decent grades, but that's about all i can say.  so i've been rediscovering what uninhibited creativity and fun is like.  well--i mean i've at least been planning how to foster those things.

every so often, i come across things on the internet that, as the title of this post suggests, inspire me in some way.  there's a variety of different types of inspirations here, from things that embody something about the way i want to be, to things that are admirably creative, to things that seem just plain fun.

i'm not saying i want to copy these things; on the contrary, what i love about all of them is the originality aspect, which is something i want to emulate.  i want to think of my own original projects, or be involved in other people's original projects, and if possible, make people's lives better by doing so.  and i want to be inspired and inspiring in all of these things, rather than letting life become mundane.

anyway, i'll post these things up every now and then.  i already have a healthy list going, but i'll try to space them out a little bit.



p.s.: if you want to be involved in some creative stuff i might be starting, please let me know?  fun projects are often more fun when friends are involved.  =)

sfftmom: king's cross station

When his eyes opened, Albus was standing in the middle of a busy walkway.  The brick walls, the layout, and the many platforms looked so familiar.  He realized that it was King's Cross Station, and a wave of intense relief flooded over him.  As he looked around, he noticed Professor Snape standing a few meters away.

"Thought I had betrayed you, did you Potter?" he said sternly, though the softened expression in his eyes told Albus that the man was not really upset.

Albus threw back, "Well sir, for all I know you could have been among the traitors as well."

Snape looked at him thoughtfully.  "No, Potter.  I may have committed many a crime, but for now, my place is here.  Hopefully this journey will help absolve some of the evil which I have had a hand in making."  Momentarily, a remorseful look crossed his face, but then he said, "Well, we must be off.  Your journey is not yet complete, after all."  He strode off toward Platform 9 3/4.  Eyes wide, Albus rushed after him into the bustling crowd.

~ ~ ~

 THE END . . . ?

sfftmom: the archway

Finally, the boat came to rest at the dais.  Fearfully and cautiously, Albus followed Snape up each step until they got to the top platform.  The two halves of the curtain fluttered faintly in the mystical-looking archway.  Its mystery would have been rather enticing, had it not been for the three massive Dementors hovering in front of it.  Now that he was closer, he saw each Dementor holding the face of one person up to their hoods.  Albus recognized the faces of all three of them, for they were famous throughout the wizarding world.

"Potter, these are those who have committed treachery to their greatest master of all: Magic itself."  Snape pointed to the first Dementor, who held close a large witch, who bore an uncanny resemblance to a toad.  "Dolores Umbridge, former High Inquisitor of Hogwarts.  By doing her best to break down all student and teacher attempts to fight evil, she became an accomplice to the evil that was rapidly overtaking the land."

Snape then pointed to the second figure: an older wizard with a graying beard and steel-grey hair.  "Grindelwald, formerly Professor Dumbledore's intimate friend.  He planned and attempted to take over the wizarding world and set up a hierarchy, in which all muggles would serve pure-blood wizards.  He planned to use Magic--a force meant for good--to bring more inequality and resentment into the world.  Under his control, Muggle-borns and even half-bloods would pay dearly for their birth--a distinction which," his gaze drifted off, "does not make any difference in the end."

Regaining his focus, Snape pointed then to the third figure: one who slightly resembled a man, but who had a pale, waxy face, slits for nostrils, and red eyes.  "The Dark Lord Voldemort, formerly known as Tom Riddle.  He attempted to evade death itself, doing things with Magic that are unnatural and act against all things for which Magic was created.  And indeed, he came closer to evading death than any other human in history.  But now, he will long for death, just to put an end to his mangled soul."

"But sir, wouldn't their souls be gone by now?" asked Albus.

Snape shook his head.  "Normally, yes, a person's soul would be gone in a matter of seconds at that exposure.  But through their treachery to Magic, the souls of these three were severely diminished.  The Dementors try to regain their energy from the souls of these traitors, but can only glean enough to survive if they keep these diminished souls with them.  So these three people suffer the Dementor's Kiss for all of time, forever facing utter hopelessness without the relief of losing their souls completely."

Suddenly, Albus felt a chill travel down his spine.  A feeling crept into his heart-- despair, like he would never feel any joy again.  He looked up at Professor Snape, whose little color had drained from his face.

"Potter, they've sensed you here.  They can smell your soul, in all its wholeness and life.  We have to get you out of here."

He assumed a look of resolution and shouted, "Expecto Patronum!"  From his wand, a silvery light streamed out and took on the form of a doe.  The doe began pacing calmly around the Dementors, who shied away, avoiding the doe as much as they could.  Immediately, Albus felt all warmth and hope return.  Looking over at Snape, he saw a savage look come into the former professor's face.

"Potter!  Through the archway!  Quick!"  Albus looked into the archway, which he now noticed emitted a cryptic rumbling sound.  He hesitated, unsure of what he might find.  Then he noticed the doe beginning to fade, and his feelings of hopelessness returning.  He thought about all of Snape’s harsh words, his seeming enjoyment at the sinners’ torment, his dismay that he had had to lead Albus through this journey.  A thought came into the boy’s head that made the pit of his stomach drop.  What if Snape had actually led him here on purpose?  And now he would be stuck here forever, whether he stayed with the Dementors or went on into whatever worse fate might lie beyond the archway.

"POTTER! JUST GO!"  Albus looked into Snape's dark eyes, full of bitterness, sadness, and mystery.  Then he looked up at the Dementors.  He could not stay here with them; he just couldn't.  Left with no other option, Albus closed his eyes and hurled himself through the archway, into a vast nothingness.

sfftmom: tier 4--judecca

Snape and Albus crossed over the last tier, narrowly avoiding hitting its inhabitants.  Those in the fourth tier were all in one place: chained to the tier wall, with the potion flowing into their mouths.  They howled at the constant recall of their very worst memories, coughing and spluttering, but unable to escape.  One man with a rat-like face kept rolling over, utterly failing in his attempts to avoid the downpour.

"I recognize him!  I've seen his picture in old newspapers: Peter Pettigrew!"

"Correct, Potter.  He was a rat in more ways than one, and betrayed both his friends and his master.  Unfortunately for him, the Dark Lord was the less forgiving of the two."

The rat-faced man rolled over and reached out for them, straining against his chains, but before he could so much as touch the boat, it had rowed away.

sfftmom: tier 3--ptolemea

The travelers tipped over the edge again, this time landing in a much less quiet tier.  The pool in the tier was so deep that its inhabitants were swimming in it, trying to stay afloat with as much of their body out of the potion as possible.  As soon as the boat landed in the pool, a mass of the souls began swimming toward it.  Snape rowed faster, but an odd-looking man with scraggly white hair still caught up with them.

"NOOO!  PLEASE HELP!  Don't leave me here!  Please!"

"Lovegood, kindly detach yourself from this vessel," Snape said calmly.

"No, wait Professor.  Why is he here?"  Albus asked.

Lovegood looked at Albus gratefully.  "I took in the famous Harry Potter, along with two of his friends, to explain to them about the Deathly Hallows in their time of need.  I didn't want to do it, but they insisted.  The Death Eaters had taken my Luna, but they promised to free her if I handed in Harry Potter.  And here he was, walking up to my doorstep of his own free will.  So I contacted them to tell them I had him.  It would have been perfect, except that they escaped just in time."  At that moment, a few other traitors had caught up and grabbed onto Lovegood.  Their extra weight, combined with Snape's vigorous rowing, was too much for Lovegood's grip, and he finally let go.

Rowing away, Albus asked, "Sir, what happens if the people here actually drown?

Snape replied, "They never fully drown, for the moment the potion enters their lungs, it vaporizes and enters their bloodstream with oxygen.  These people have betrayed their own guests or hosts, and so now they are left not with death, but with the shame and agony of their worst memories."

sfftmom: tier 2--antenora

The second tier had pooled deeper; now those who made it up lay down in the potion, fully immersed except for their eyes and mouth.  Though the souls were constrained to their horizontal position, their faces still expressed the full agony of their worst memories, even more than those in the previous tier.  The inhabitants cried out and tears bubbled up from their eyes, collecting at the surface of the potion.

"Traitors to their party or country," Snape explained.

One man with a grey beard and blackish-grey hair spouted out words of defense: "No really, I didn't . . . I was never involved I swear . . . I can give you their names . . . No! I would never . . . I revealed nothing!"

"Igor Karkaroff, former headmaster of Durmstrang Institute.  Before his years as headmaster, he was a Death Eater.  He got back into the good graces of the public--and bad graces with the Dark Lord--when he revealed the identities of most of the undercover Death Eaters who were working to further the Dark Lord's regime after his disappearance.  Once the Dark Lord returned, Karkaroff fled."

As they passed Karkaroff, Albus noticed a black symbol on Karkaroff's left arm.

sfftmom: tier 1--caina

Albus looked out over the first tier.  Each tier had a slight ledge, which caused the potion to pool on each level.  In the first tier, there were people scattered, chained to the ground and sitting waist-deep in the potion.   Their eyes were shut tight, as if they were  trying very hard to stay sane and composed.  Many were crying, or had sad, angry, or hurt expressions on their faces.  Several had assumed a fetal position or had put their arms over their heads.

"Welcome to the deepest room of the Ministry, Potter.  It is reserved for the very worst traitors. The potion you see was developed by the Dark Lord himself.  Anyone exposed to it is forced to relive their worst memories and regrets.  As a drink, of course, it is the most potent, but it can also have a strong effect even just soaking into someone's skin.  The potion weakens not only the body, but also the spirit."

Snape and Albus floated by a skinny, dark-haired woman who was holding her head in her hands, rocking back and forth and sobbing.  There was something about her which caught Albus' attention . . .

"Professor, who is that woman?"

Snape's expression hardened into a bitter hatred.  "That is Your Great Aunt Petunia, sister to your grandmother, Lily Evans.  When she found out that her sister was a witch, she became so filled with jealousy that she disowned Lily as her sister.  Even when your father was dropped off at her doorstep to live with her and Vernon, he was never accepted into the family.  She belongs to this tier, which houses those who betray their family."  Albus watched her unsympathetically as they floated over the next tier.

sfftmom: the death room--the traitors

At the door, Albus felt his thestral buck, refusing to go any farther.  As he dismounted, he found himself looking into a large, rectangular room that resembled a wizard courtroom.  A green potion bubbled up from the doorway and, like a waterfall, fell down four stone tiers, which led to an emerald lake at the floor.  Rising out of the lake stood a dais, on which towered an enormous ancient-looking archway with a black curtain, ripped in half from top to bottom. In front of the archway--Albus tensed up with fear--hovered three Dementors.

Snape looked deep into Albus’ dark green eyes.  Then, breaking his gaze, he conjured a rowboat out of the air and stepped inside.  Holding out his hand, he helped Albus into the boat.  Together, they floated over the first tier, using the boat’s oar for stability.

sfftmom: shelf 10--falsifiers of metals, coins, words, and persons

As Snape and Albus turned down one of the last aisles, Albus surveyed the scene.  The people of this section were evidently being subjected to a great deal of pain; it was obvious in their faces, body language, and unbearable screams.  The odd thing was that these people showed no physical signs of harm at all.

“Potter, here are souls who have practiced false forms of alchemy, counterfeited money, impersonated others or spread falsehoods.  Take this man.”  Snape pointed to a tall man with fair hair.  “Barty Crouch Jr., who impersonated the Auror Mad-Eye Moody for an entire year in order to make your father vulnerable to the Dark Lord.  Now these are all subject to the worst of the Unforgivable Curses: the Cruciatus Curse.”

Anxious to get away from the suffering of the souls in the Hall of Prophecy, Albus urged his thestral on.  Soon, the thestrals brought the two travelers to a black door at the end of the hallway.

sfftmom: shelf 9--sowers of scandal and schism

The next section Snape and Albus came to was labeled SOWERS OF SCANDAL AND SCHISM.  Wondering what exactly that meant, Albus looked down the aisle, but his eyes met a disturbing sight.  Each person walking in this section had a bow-legged look about them.  Albus was puzzled, but then he realized that each person seemed to be divided in half, with one half of his body pulling one direction, and the other half pulling the other direction.  More and more tension pulled on the divided bodies.  Finally, Albus heard a scream.  He looked to its source and saw two halves of a body lying on the ground, pulled apart by the person’s own tension.  The two halves of the body then got up and put themselves back together to reveal a woman with curly blonde hair.  Yet it was to no avail, for the woman’s halves immediately began pulling against one another again.

“Hey! Professor, isn’t that Rita Skeeter?”

“Indeed.  It is she who has printed many a rumor and scandal against public figures.  She was a great asset to those who desired to turn the public against Professor Dumbledore and your father when the Dark Lord made his second rise to power.”

Shuddering, Albus glanced into the corner and saw a man with very red hair, who reminded him greatly of his mother.  Snape seemed to notice the change in Albus’ face, for he sternly warned, “Potter, do not let the dead arrest your mind!  Do you want to be like them?”

Not listening, Albus continued to watch the man, his concern growing.  “Oh no,” he whispered, then called out, “Uncle George! UNCLE GEORGE!”

“No, Potter, it’s not him,” Snape said quietly as he held Albus back.  Then Albus understood.  The man with the red hair--Uncle George’s twin--turned and looked at Albus with a look of great anguish and longing in his face--a face which seemed very tense.  The man began to scream.

“Potter!” Snape got in front of Albus and turned the boy’s head away.  They continued on to the next section as Albus shed silent, hidden tears for his deceased uncle.  At last, they came to the last section of the Hall of Prophecy: FALSIFIERS OF METALS, COINS, WORDS, AND PERSONS.

sfftmom: shelf 8--fraudulent counselors

Another few shelves down, the thestrals stopped abruptly as a short, round man with a bald head and a silver handlebar mustache ran straight into them and fell flat on his back.  Albus looked up and saw that the man had come out of an aisle labeled FRAUDULENT COUNSELORS.

“No! I was so close that time!  Well, that certainly was a jolly sight less horrible than the last time I ran into something,” the man remarked to himself.  Albus noticed that the man was bruised, and that his head was slightly cone-shaped, with one flat side.  The wizard was covered in blood, and his body had small, hole-shaped scars all over it.

The man looked up.  “Well, if it isn’t Severus Snape, and--” he squinted, “another Potter! You look just like your father, of course.”

“Potter, this is Horace Slughorn, former Potions master at Hogwarts,” Snape introduced.  “Horace, Albus has come on this journey with me to help him understand how to further the peace of the wizarding world.  Please tell him why you are here.”

Slughorn’s face grew serious as he studied Albus.  “It was I who gave Lord Voldemort the information he needed to make the Horcruxes, without which he would never have been able to return at all.  Instead of teaching him valuable and wholesome lessons, I unwittingly led him down a path of evil, advised him in committing the worst possible crimes against the world.  For my poor guidance, I am now led by tantalizing visions in my own head, which I cannot get out.  The visions are so real, so tangible--if I could only attain them! Then when they lead me face-first into a spiked wall, or directly into a toffee stretcher or a butter churner--only then does the vision become true reality.  Of course,” he added hopefully, “there’s always next time.”  Albus shook his head as they continued on.

sfftmom: shelf 7--thieves

As Snape and Albus urged the thestrals toward the door at the side of the room, Crouch shouted after them, “Where are you going?”

“The next section.  We have been informed that this door is a way around the obstacle ahead.” Snape replied.

Crouch shook his head.  “The Inferi, by their very nature, are deceptive.  You would do better to go all the way through that last aisle in order to get to the other side.”

Albus, unsure of who to trust, tried the door, but found it locked.  “Alohomora!” he shouted, but even then, the door remained adamant.  Frustrated, he followed Snape down the next aisle, the first of those labeled THIEVES.  The inhabitants of this set of shelves had been almost entirely stripped of their clothes.  They had severe burn marks on their skin, and they displayed a wide variety of hexes and curses.

“Potter, the ones who abide in this aisle have betrayed trust by stealing.  As penance, they have no possessions or extra clothes to cover themselves.  They have no wands, so they are defenseless against the curses that the Inferi set against them.  Because they used their hands to take what was not theirs, now everything they touch burns them.”

Albus’ eyes widened.  The inhabitants of the thieves’ aisle bounced about, trying to keep their feet off of the ground, their limbs away from the shelves, and their bodies away from everyone else.  It was an impossible situation due to the sheer number of people in the aisle.

As they watched, one man lost his balance, crashing into a great number of people, knocking several prophecies off of the shelf, and nearly overturning another shelf.  The broken shards of the glass orbs simultaneously cut and seared his skin, while the silver mist collected on his skin before it could gather into the prophecies and turned boiling.  The man screamed.

“Mundungus Fletcher,” Snape informed Albus with disgust, “former member of the Order of the Phoenix, who was caught stealing from their safe house, the house of Black, in order to sell the dark goods on the wizard black market.”

The thestrals had to swerve in order to dodge the angry, agonized thieves, but before long, Albus found himself safely on the other side, following Snape once more.

sfftmom: shelf 6--hypocrites

The travelers approached the next section, HYPOCRITES, and a ghastly-looking man peered out from behind the corner.  Although he dressed in clean, perfectly-pressed Ministry robes, his face had been stretched horrifically to two sides of his head.  His mouth had been stretched to an unnatural width, with the skin in the middle of it fused together.  One eye had migrated to each side of his head, and his nose had been flayed open.  Snape urged Albus on.

Disgusted, Albus asked, “Who are you?”

“My name is Barty Crouch, one of the most respectable workers of the Ministry of Magic, and widely regarded as such until my son got caught in alliance with Death Eaters.  I sentenced him to Azkaban for his crimes, but it was too late.  The entire wizarding world now knew that I, Barty Crouch of the Ministry of Magic, had raised up a son who had blatantly defied the laws of Magic. Now I am punished here for my disgrace, with the two-faced.”

sfftmom: shelf 5--barrators

The wanderers of this aisle were covered in boils, rashes, pox, and any number of other visible ailments.  One man, tough and battle-scarred, his skin discolored from illness, approached the two travelers.

“Greetings, travelers.  My name is Rufus Scrimgeour, and I was once Minister of Magic, before He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named’s forces killed me.  You, boy, are obviously whole and healthy; of that I envy you.  However, I must ask you to answer me just one question.”

“We will answer you anything, but first answer me this question: How is it you came to be in this state?” replied Albus shrewdly.

The former minister took a deep breath and looked down.  “I never wanted He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named to gain power.  I knew that his forces were growing stronger and stronger.  But I believed that making it look like the Ministry had things under control would be better for everyone.  And I wanted to keep my job.  I knew that the knowledge that the Ministry was powerless would be . . . unpopular.”  He looked Albus straight in the eyes. “I caused the people to believe that your father and Dumbledore were stirring up trouble, and I placed Dolores Umbridge in charge of Hogwarts.  I lied to the entire wizarding world to save face for the Ministry.  Now I am doomed to have a body eternally corrupted by disease, just as I was a corrupt leader of the wizarding community.”  He shook his head, wincing at his pain and discomfort.  “But what of the world now?  In what state is the Ministry of Magic?”

“It fell after Voldemort’s death.  That Ministry never recovered, but a new ministry has been built--one that is dedicated to the equality of all magical species and the destruction of dark powers.”  With a slightly satisfied look on his face, Scrimgeour left them.

sfftmom: shelf 4--diviners and false prophets

A few shelves down, Snape and Albus came to the next section: DIVINERS AND FALSE PROPHETS.  

Confused, Albus asked, “But Professor, isn’t Divination one of the greatest wizard arts?  I mean, this is the Hall of Prophecy, after all.”

Snape scoffed.  “‘Great,’ Potter, is entirely a matter of opinion.  Divination has never been a reliable form of magic.  It involves much theory, but little actual science.  Nevertheless, it has proven accurate in certain cases, and occasionally even helpful.  These, however, are the vast majority of diviners.  That is to say,” he smirked, “those who used false or even forbidden means to make prophecies.  Prophecies, might I add, that had no basis in actual magic, but were derived from their . . . worthless . . . methods.”

Albus glanced down the aisles and raised his eyebrows in surprise.  Spanning the length of each aisle was a strange staircase, starting from the floor and going up in sort of a rectangular spiral.  As the staircase neared ceiling level, it came to a flat landing, then led back downwards to make some sort of corrupted double-helix.  It reminded Albus of a picture he had once seen, something about “Pence-Rose Stairs” or something.  The stairs themselves were rickety and uneven.  Those in the aisles trudged up and down the stairs, carrying large metal weights and tripping often.  The thestrals turned down one of the aisles, and Albus noticed that the eyes of everyone on the staircase were white and cloudy.

Snape pulled aside one of the diviners: a slight, bony woman with frazzled hair, gauzy clothing, large glasses, and a lot of gaudy jewelry.  Albus thought it strange that she should wear glasses when she obviously still couldn’t see.

The woman looked confused.  “Who touches this Seer?  Where are you taking me?”

Snape looked down on her with a slightly annoyed expression.  “Sybill, this is Severus Snape, and I have pulled you away to give witness to Mr. Albus Potter.”

Still looking confused, she began, “I was once teacher of the great art of Divination at Hogwarts.  Because the images of the Inner Eye are often difficult to discern, my prophecies did not always come out as predicted, though they sometimes did.  But I always knew that this was not good enough for Albus Dumbledore, so he brought in a centaur to teach some of the classes.  Now my Inner Eye and both of my outer eyes are made to see no more.  The prophecies were always a burden to bear; now I must bear physical burdens as I climb stairs as unstable as the prophecies of some of my former students.”  With that, she felt her way back to the staircase and began her ascent once more.

Snape and Albus left to head for the next section.  Suddenly, Albus jumped, for a group of what appeared to be dead bodies popped out into the open, blocking their path.  Turning paper-white, Snape raised his wand.  “Inferi,” he said darkly.  As he pointed his wand at them, however, they began to speak in unison.

“You shall not pass here.”

“We shall pass, Dark Ones, for this pilgrimage is has been ordered by the voice of Magic itself, through the messengers who carry the soul of Hogwarts.”

The Inferi replied, “Very well.  But before you reach the end, there is a shelf that has partially fallen, and it blocks the path to your destination.  An alternate path is through the door on the side, just before you reach the shelf.  You have been warned!”  Seemingly appeased, the inferi barricade broke up, and Snape and Albus went into an aisle labeled BARRATORS.

sfftmom: shelf 3--simoniacs

The thestrals took Snape and Albus to a third section, labeled SIMONIACS.  Everyone in the aisle looked extremely uncomfortable, and there was excrement and vomit on the floor, with what looked like small worms and insects in it.  As much as the hovering wigged him out, Albus was suddenly quite glad to have a thestral to ride.  Snape drew another glass orb from the shelf and smashed it, drawing dirty looks from some of those in the aisle.  Another silvery scene came into shape.  The scene was set in the headmaster’s office at Hogwarts; Albus got the impression that it took place long before his time.  A man, presumably the headmaster at the time, sat behind a large desk while a woman spoke to him with a pleading look on her face.  She got on her knees, as if she were begging.  The headmaster appeared to be considering her, then leaned in as if to tell her a secret.  Her face lightened; excitedly, she reached into her money pouch and drew out a silver box, which glowed eerily.  Assuming an unaffected expression on his face, the headmaster handed her a set of Hogwarts staff robes.  The scene finally changed, and the man was in a bathroom, clutching his stomach as if he were about to be sick.  Then the scene vanished.

“Why parasites, Professor?”

“Those who buy and sell positions of power for their own good, especially positions that are meant to teach and benefit others, are nothing but parasites to the wizarding world, and to Magic itself.  They live well off of what they attain dishonestly, and give no contribution to anyone else.”

sfftmom: shelf 2--flatterers

Snape and Albus glided down a few more aisles, until they came to one labeled FLATTERERS.  This section gave off a rancid smell, for the floor was heaped with rubbish.  Those who walked up and down these aisles went around picking up the rubbish and eating it.  One boy carrying a camera saw Albus and came running toward him.

“Harry!  Is it really you?  How glad I am to see you!  Why are you here?”

“Well, er, I’m not actually Harry.  I’m his son, Albus.  And I’ve come here to see the entire Ministry.”

The boy’s eyes widened.  “Albus.  Like Albus Dumbledore?  What a noble name!  And you’re Harry’s son? And you’ve been chosen to journey the Ministry of Magic? AND you’re riding a thestral?”  Albus thought the boy was going to faint of excitement.

“Er . . . I wasn’t exactly-”

“Can you sign this for me? My name’s Colin!”  Eagerly, the boy held up a rusty old cauldron he had just picked up.

“Er . . . well, I’m a bit busy at the moment . . .” Albus stammered, thinking of how to get rid of Colin.

“Come, Potter!” Snape shouted.  Relieved, Albus went over to join him.  Snape explained, “Just as rubbish comes from the mouth of a flatterer, so it must return there.”

sfftmom: shelf 1--panderers

The end of the shelf was labeled: PANDERERS.  All the people in this aisle were jolting restlessly, crying out in agony--and with good reason.  All were severely cut and bruised, with what looked like rug burns all over their skin, and most had flaps of skin coming off.  What clothing they had was ripped and mostly worn away.  Floating down the aisle, Snape perused the orbs, each of which had someone’s name on it.  He picked one up gingerly, then without warning, smashed it to the floor.  From the shards arose a silvery mist, coming into focus in the form of a scene.  Two Death Eaters strode quickly down the streets of Hogsmeade with maliciously pleased expressions on their faces.  Albus did not understand why they seemed so glad until a rather large group of Hogwarts students--mostly girls--crossed the scene.  By the looks of things, they were under the Imperius Curse.  They seemed oblivious to the fact that they were following the two men, or that anything about the scene was abnormal at all.  Then the scene changed.  The two men appeared once more, exchanging money with another man in a dark lounge.  Changing again, the scene depicted the two men chained to the back of a carriage.  As the carriage took off, the men tried digging their hands, feet, finger, elbow, and knees into the ground to break the chains.  They even tried standing up and balancing against the weight of the carriage.  The more they struggled, the more they became cuts, bruises, and burns they acquired.  In the end, the men gave up and resigned themselves to being dragged on their backs or bellies.

“Where is all this occurring?”

“This hall is their final destination, where they are categorized.  However, since it would be impossible to drive a carriage through this hall, they are taken outside every day, to the area around the Ministry of Magic for their punishment.  The length of time they are punished each day is proportional to the amount of their life they spent deceiving, selling, and transporting their fellow humans.  Now they have no choice; they are taken where they do not want to go in order to be tortured themselves.”

sfftmom: the hall of prophecy--malebolge

Snape and Albus stepped into a room that, like the round room, was lit only by the blue fiery light of candles on the wall.  As Albus’ eyes adjusted to the darkness, he noticed that the room was filled with rows upon rows of shelves, each with countless glass spheres on it.  People were crammed everywhere, between every row of shelves; indeed, there seemed to be at least as many people as spheres in the room.  Broken glass littered the floor.

Suddenly, Albus leaped into the air.  He had been sure he had felt something bump into him from behind.  He turned around, but saw nothing there.  Sufficiently creeped out, he looked to Snape.

“This is the Hall of Prophecy, Potter.  Once again, this room is so large and compartmentalized that we would never get through it without direction.  But these thestrals will help us to successfully navigate through the parts you need to see.”

Nervous energy began to pulse through Albus’ veins.  “But sir, where are they?”  Snape put out his hand and appeared to rest it on something--an invisible surface of some kind.  Albus ventured over, put out his hand, and felt something leathery under his hands--the coat of a thestral.  With Snape’s help, he hoisted himself up onto the winged creature.  Slowly, Albus felt himself rise above the heads of the sinners, gliding gently over to the first shelf at the end of the room.  Gentle as it was, he still found it rather unnerving to fly around with the feeling that there was nothing under him.

sfftmom: the bell jar--violence against nature

Snape pushed aside some other mysterious time devices until he had uncovered the source of the beautiful dancing light.  Intrigued, Albus went over to see what it was.  And it was intriguing: a bright bell jar (which emitted the light) containing a repulsive bird-sized werewolf.  Little by little, tiny owls swooped down on the werewolf, pecking at his flesh until there was nothing left but bones.  Then, the werewolf began to regenerate, bite by bite.  Once it was fully restored, the cycle started over.

Snape looked at the werewolf with disgust.  “That is Fenrir Greyback.  He is a werewolf; the full moon gave him an appetite for men, but eventually, he began adopting that same diet all the time.  For his cannibalism and violence against nature itself, he was sent here, where he was shrunk and put in the bell jar with a few shrunken owls to constantly be picked at and eaten.”  Greyback howled to the light of the bell jar as Snape and Albus opened the door at the far end of the room.

sfftmom: the wall of clocks--violence against oneself

As they emerged from the Sands of Time, the dancing light became even more dazzling than it had seemed from behind the sandstorm.  Glad to get off of the Manticore, Albus looked around for the light’s source and saw that the it was coming from behind an old grandfather clock, centered on a huge wall full of clocks of various sizes and varieties.  Looking at the grandfather clock, he noticed its face.  Aesthetically, it was intriguingly designed.  In fact, the face looked strangely human.  Remembering about the light source, Albus tried to move the grandfather clock aside, but accidentally knocked it over in the process.

“Ouch!”  said the clock.

Albus took a closer look at the clock’s strangely human face.  “Merlin’s pants!” He exclaimed, “It looks almost like the Bloody Baron!  Were all these clocks once real people?”

“Yes.  The Baron is well known at Hogwarts, especially in the house of Slytherin.  His suicide, however, is slightly less well-known,” mused Snape.

“Suicide?”

“Ah yes.  The rash decisions of a violent lover caused his own death and the death of his beloved.”  Snape smiled ruefully.

“That’s horrible!”

“And now,” the clock chimed in, “I am doomed to this form--the irony of a grandfather clock.  Always ticking away, though my time is long gone.  Every second, beating my own sides to pay for my crimes against my own body.”

“But you do still have an imprint in the real world,” Albus reassured him as he set the clock back in upright position.

“But alas! What good is even an imprint of a life isolated and self-destructed?”

Feeling great sorrow for the Baron, Albus turned away.