The definition of faith contains two aspects:intellectual assent and trust. intellectual assent is believing something to be true.Trust is actually relying on the fact that something is true.A chair is often used to help illustrate this. Intellectual assent is recognizing that a chair is a chair and agreeing that it is designed to support a person who sits on it. Trust is actually sitting in the chair.
My faith with God is strong and I never tend to ignore it....!!!
During exercise stroke volume increases because more blood is sent back to the heart due to the muscles squeezing blood in the veins
I was sitting in my room, my eyes glued to the flashing screen, the palm of my hands slick with sweat as I struggled to hold onto the controller, the smooth surface slipping every second or so. I could barely hear anything, but the blaring of the sound effects that blasted through my room, shutting out any sound, including the knock on my door from my mother. I started, dropping the controller, my eyes wide. I snapped "What!" at my mother, her face contorting into pinched irritation. "Dinner is ready." She said, turning away to head back down the stairs. My eyes shifted to the open doorway, the nostrils of my nose flaring as I took in the scent of food. I could smell spices, and the humid stench of steam. My stomach growled and I quickly shot up from the floor and thundered down the stairs, leaping into the kitchen to find the source of the heavenly smells that wafted in my direction. I spotted turkey, garnished with lemon and green herbs, and sitting beside it, a large bowl of something off-white. It looked like mashed potatoes. I hastily took a seat and set my elbows upon the wooden surface of the table, my mother scolding me over her shoulder as she divided place settings. "Elbows off, please." She piped, pulling out her own chair with an ear splintering squeal that grated my nerves, causing my teeth to grind together. My mother passed a plate of green beans towards me, and I quickly scooped them onto my own plate, then going for the turkey, the mashed potatoes added last. With no time for prayer, I dug in, the tinges of my fork scraping against the plates clay surface as I scooped a fork full of beans up, and shoved it into my mouth. It tasted bland, with the barest hint of salt. I swallowed, cringing as it went down and took a bite of the mashed potatoes. Of course it was delicious. They were light, buttered perfectly. I gave a small sound of appreciation and went for the turkey last. I stabbed a piece of meat and popped it into my mouth, the texture odd. Hard to describe really. It was tough, but also soft enough to bite into, and with lemon added into it, it was tangy, making my mouth salivate. My mom smiled at the expression my face, nearly laughing. I made a face at her and swallowed, going in for another bite.
They have to describe the characteristics of life hope this helps.
