| You Are Incredibly Logical |
 Move over Spock - you're the new master of logic You think rationally, clearly, and quickly. A seasoned problem solver, your mind is like a computer! |
Tuesday, February 20
Lent is almost upon us, and you can smell the anticipation in the air. Oh, no, sorry, that's not anticipation, it's just pancakes.
I don't know if anybody else ever looks forward to Lent, but I do. Sure, the novelty wears off by the second week of it, and it's difficult and uncomfortable. But it's also a nice quiet time, a time of resting and preparing, of thinking and praying. It's nice to be coerced into being quiet and simple for a few weeks. We all benefit from it, even if we don't like it.
So, go to confession tonight, eat some pancakes, and get ready to fast!
I don't know if anybody else ever looks forward to Lent, but I do. Sure, the novelty wears off by the second week of it, and it's difficult and uncomfortable. But it's also a nice quiet time, a time of resting and preparing, of thinking and praying. It's nice to be coerced into being quiet and simple for a few weeks. We all benefit from it, even if we don't like it.
So, go to confession tonight, eat some pancakes, and get ready to fast!
Monday, February 19
I can't believe this.
In my effort to eat more healthy stuff, I've been shopping at Trader Joe's lately. Their stuff is better, cheaper, and tastier than it's grocery store counterparts.
So today, I brought hummus and pita to work with me. As a snack. And I'm enjoying it. This is disturbing.
At least I still hate soy.
In my effort to eat more healthy stuff, I've been shopping at Trader Joe's lately. Their stuff is better, cheaper, and tastier than it's grocery store counterparts.
So today, I brought hummus and pita to work with me. As a snack. And I'm enjoying it. This is disturbing.
At least I still hate soy.
Thursday, February 15
Jo March
Josephine March, from Little Women, is a tomboy who loves writing, acting, and her family. She dreams of seeing the world and publishing her book.
Which Classic Heroine are You?
Huzzah, I LOVE Jo!
Josephine March, from Little Women, is a tomboy who loves writing, acting, and her family. She dreams of seeing the world and publishing her book.
Which Classic Heroine are You?
Huzzah, I LOVE Jo!
Meant to post this in early January, but forgot, of course.
Years ago, when I was a kid at First Baptist Church in Hereford, I remember on church service on the first Sunday of the New Year. Our best soprano sang a song that went to the tune of Auld Lang Syne, but with different words. The pastor dedicated it to all the people from the congregation who'd died the year before, reading their names out to the assembly. I've always remembered the song, memorized it, and sing it with regularity, especially when thinking of those who have passed.
So, this year, I'll post the song again.
For (not all of these have died in the past year, but they're the ones I always remember in prayers of the people at church) : Jim Hampton, Janelle Debris, Irene Pearcey, Gene Ledbetter, Richard Omondi.
It singeth low in every heart,
We hear it each and all:
A song of those who answer not,
However we may call.
They throng the silence of the breast,
We see them as of yore:
The kind, the brave, the true, the sweet
Who walk with us no more.
'Tis hard to pick the burden up
When these have laid it down;
They brightened every joy of life,
They softened every frown.
But oh, 'tis good to think of them
When we are troubled sore;
Thanks be to God that such have been
Though they are here no more.
More homelike seems the vast unknown
Since they have entered there,
'Tis not so hard to follow them
However they may fare.
They cannot be where God is not,
On any sea or shore:
What e'er betides, Thy love abides,
Our God, forevermore.
Years ago, when I was a kid at First Baptist Church in Hereford, I remember on church service on the first Sunday of the New Year. Our best soprano sang a song that went to the tune of Auld Lang Syne, but with different words. The pastor dedicated it to all the people from the congregation who'd died the year before, reading their names out to the assembly. I've always remembered the song, memorized it, and sing it with regularity, especially when thinking of those who have passed.
So, this year, I'll post the song again.
For (not all of these have died in the past year, but they're the ones I always remember in prayers of the people at church) : Jim Hampton, Janelle Debris, Irene Pearcey, Gene Ledbetter, Richard Omondi.
It singeth low in every heart,
We hear it each and all:
A song of those who answer not,
However we may call.
They throng the silence of the breast,
We see them as of yore:
The kind, the brave, the true, the sweet
Who walk with us no more.
'Tis hard to pick the burden up
When these have laid it down;
They brightened every joy of life,
They softened every frown.
But oh, 'tis good to think of them
When we are troubled sore;
Thanks be to God that such have been
Though they are here no more.
More homelike seems the vast unknown
Since they have entered there,
'Tis not so hard to follow them
However they may fare.
They cannot be where God is not,
On any sea or shore:
What e'er betides, Thy love abides,
Our God, forevermore.
Shamelessly stolen from: http://ryandunssj.blogspot.com/
[A is for apparitions - your favorite]: Medjugorje
[B is for Bible - the one you read most often]: NASB, but I have a severe weakness for the Vulgate. Everything sounds better in Latin.
[C is for Charism - the one you would most like to have]: discernment
[D is for Doctor of the Church - your favorite]: Therese of Lisieux!
[E is for Essential Prayer - What’s yours?]: The Jesus Prayer "Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, Have mercy on me, a sinner."
[F is for Favorite Hymn]: St. Patrick's Breastplate, and Nearer My God To Thee
[G is for Gospel - your favorite author?]: John
[H is for Holy Communion - How would you describe it, using one word?]: Consummation
[I is for Inspiration - When do you feel most inspired by God?]: When I'm doing anything artistic
[J is for Jesus - When did you first meet Him?]: Hmmmm.....don't remember. I got saved when I was about 9, but that certainly wasn't my first encounter.
[K is for Kindness - Which saint or person has most inspired you by their kindness?]: Mother Teresa
[L is for liturgical year - your favorite time in the liturgical cycle?]: Holy Week
[M is for Mary, the Mother of God - Your favorite term of endearment for her]: Mother of Sorrows, and Stella Maris
[N is for New Testament - Your favorite passage]: The part about "to him who overcomes, i will give some of the holy manna, and a white stone with a new name." From Revelations.
[O is for Old Testament - Your favorite Book here]: Job.
[P is for Psalms - your favorite]: 116 "Blessed in the eyes of the Lord is the death of His holy ones."
[Q is for quote - saint quote]: "Sufferings gladly borne for others convert more people than sermons.” Therese of Lisieux (Also, her delightfully childlike "I choose them all!")
[R is for rosary - your favorite mysteries]: The Sorrowful
[S is for Saint - the one you turn to in time of need - not including the Blessed Virgin Mary]: Therese of Lisieux. She gave me a flower once!
[T is for Tradition - your favorite Catholic tradition]: Hmmmmmm.....Not actually being Catholic (Anglo-Catholic Anglican), I'm not sure, but within my own tradition I'd say the colors associated with the different seasons of the ecclesiastical year.
[U is for university - Which Catholic University have you attended or are currently attending?]: None: not actually Catholic! *sheepish*
[V is for Virtue - the one you wish you had]: moderation
[W is for Way of the Cross - Which station can you most relate to?]: Veronica Wipes Jesus' Face
[X is for Xaverian Brothers - Do you know who they are?]: nope
[Y is for your favorite Catholic musician]: Caedmon!
[Z is for Zeal for the faith]: amen!
[A is for apparitions - your favorite]: Medjugorje
[B is for Bible - the one you read most often]: NASB, but I have a severe weakness for the Vulgate. Everything sounds better in Latin.
[C is for Charism - the one you would most like to have]: discernment
[D is for Doctor of the Church - your favorite]: Therese of Lisieux!
[E is for Essential Prayer - What’s yours?]: The Jesus Prayer "Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, Have mercy on me, a sinner."
[F is for Favorite Hymn]: St. Patrick's Breastplate, and Nearer My God To Thee
[G is for Gospel - your favorite author?]: John
[H is for Holy Communion - How would you describe it, using one word?]: Consummation
[I is for Inspiration - When do you feel most inspired by God?]: When I'm doing anything artistic
[J is for Jesus - When did you first meet Him?]: Hmmmm.....don't remember. I got saved when I was about 9, but that certainly wasn't my first encounter.
[K is for Kindness - Which saint or person has most inspired you by their kindness?]: Mother Teresa
[L is for liturgical year - your favorite time in the liturgical cycle?]: Holy Week
[M is for Mary, the Mother of God - Your favorite term of endearment for her]: Mother of Sorrows, and Stella Maris
[N is for New Testament - Your favorite passage]: The part about "to him who overcomes, i will give some of the holy manna, and a white stone with a new name." From Revelations.
[O is for Old Testament - Your favorite Book here]: Job.
[P is for Psalms - your favorite]: 116 "Blessed in the eyes of the Lord is the death of His holy ones."
[Q is for quote - saint quote]: "Sufferings gladly borne for others convert more people than sermons.” Therese of Lisieux (Also, her delightfully childlike "I choose them all!")
[R is for rosary - your favorite mysteries]: The Sorrowful
[S is for Saint - the one you turn to in time of need - not including the Blessed Virgin Mary]: Therese of Lisieux. She gave me a flower once!
[T is for Tradition - your favorite Catholic tradition]: Hmmmmmm.....Not actually being Catholic (Anglo-Catholic Anglican), I'm not sure, but within my own tradition I'd say the colors associated with the different seasons of the ecclesiastical year.
[U is for university - Which Catholic University have you attended or are currently attending?]: None: not actually Catholic! *sheepish*
[V is for Virtue - the one you wish you had]: moderation
[W is for Way of the Cross - Which station can you most relate to?]: Veronica Wipes Jesus' Face
[X is for Xaverian Brothers - Do you know who they are?]: nope
[Y is for your favorite Catholic musician]: Caedmon!
[Z is for Zeal for the faith]: amen!
Wednesday, January 31
Meditations on Mud (Caves)
Meditation 1: This is actually an entry from my journal while on the trip. It's better with the random little drawing that goes with it, and the formatting is as close to the original as I could get it. Anyway....
into the deep dark of the caves
away from the sun from warmth from life
twisting body bent by the contortions ofthe
cave eating dust and drinking dark
choking on both of them
the occasional glimpse of light
envying those who walk
forever under the sky
and never in the dark
feet trip and slip
dislodged by the same
dust that grinds
between your teeth
weeping but tears
turn into mud
not the mud
that restored
the sight of
the blind but
the mud that
hardens and
imprisons the
mud that is
the cave echoes
scatter bouncing
into nothingness
you begin to forget
the sky and the
sun in the long dark
but wait
to eyes accustomed to shadow the faint light is unbearable will
you turn away into the familiar dark no you decide even if the sun
burns me to ash and the sky press down on me with the weight
of the world i will seek the light scrambling upward hands scraping
through dust and stones you suddenly find your outstretched hand
grasped and pulled up into the light we were watching you they say
you look down and see the ground full of holes beneath you
kneeling down you peer into one and in the gloom you see
another struggling its alright you yell we're here waiting for
you you stand up in the sunlight the dust of the cave still on
your shoulders and look out across the valley the dust shines like
alabaster and the scattered stones gleam like diamonds in the light.
Meditation 2
I admit, I'm prone to seeing life in terms of metaphor. Or, at any rate, expanding random everyday occurances into views on life.
This being the case, here's one thought from the trip.
Fr. David lead the trip, and since he was the only one who'd been to the mud caves, we relied on his guidance. (I'm sure you can see where the metaphor is going already)
But there were two moments that really stood out to me:
The first was in the caves themselves: I had only a candle for light, which was great, but occasionally didn't give quite enough light. So Fr. David was quite often stopping and shining a light in my path to keep me from tripping (I'll let you draw the obvious metaphor)
The other time was outside the caves, when we were all scrambling down the sides of the hills. I slipped on the loose rocks and sand, and almost slid down (it wouldn't have been a bad fall-just a few feet-but still uncomfortable). Fr. David planted his foot right under mine and kept me from slipping.
By now you've figured out the thoughts running through my mind: this is part of the ministry of priests, to shine light into the darkness, and to help those who are slipping into sin. Again, obvious. But a cool image of it, nonetheless.
Meditation 3. Fire on the Mountain
Being in the desert tends to make one think of the imagery and story of the Exodus and the wandering in the wilderness. I love the deserts and high plains; their beauty is subtle, fierce, and wild. The Anza-Borrego was no different, nor was the arroyo in which we were camping. We saw the hills and sand first by moonlight; the hills looked cold and raw, like mountains on some distant planet. The moon shone so brightly it cast shadows on the ground. And God was in the night.
In the warm morning sunlight, the hills looked hot and dusty, as millions of days under the glare of the sun turned everything to fine sand. The scraggly bushes poked forth leaves in varying degrees of verdancy, and God was in the day.
There was no guiding cloud, no pillar of fire by night. But God burned in every leaf on the bush and on the peak of every hill.
Meditation 1: This is actually an entry from my journal while on the trip. It's better with the random little drawing that goes with it, and the formatting is as close to the original as I could get it. Anyway....
into the deep dark of the caves
away from the sun from warmth from life
twisting body bent by the contortions ofthe
cave eating dust and drinking dark
choking on both of them
the occasional glimpse of light
envying those who walk
forever under the sky
and never in the dark
feet trip and slip
dislodged by the same
dust that grinds
between your teeth
weeping but tears
turn into mud
not the mud
that restored
the sight of
the blind but
the mud that
hardens and
imprisons the
mud that is
the cave echoes
scatter bouncing
into nothingness
you begin to forget
the sky and the
sun in the long dark
but wait
to eyes accustomed to shadow the faint light is unbearable will
you turn away into the familiar dark no you decide even if the sun
burns me to ash and the sky press down on me with the weight
of the world i will seek the light scrambling upward hands scraping
through dust and stones you suddenly find your outstretched hand
grasped and pulled up into the light we were watching you they say
you look down and see the ground full of holes beneath you
kneeling down you peer into one and in the gloom you see
another struggling its alright you yell we're here waiting for
you you stand up in the sunlight the dust of the cave still on
your shoulders and look out across the valley the dust shines like
alabaster and the scattered stones gleam like diamonds in the light.
Meditation 2
I admit, I'm prone to seeing life in terms of metaphor. Or, at any rate, expanding random everyday occurances into views on life.
This being the case, here's one thought from the trip.
Fr. David lead the trip, and since he was the only one who'd been to the mud caves, we relied on his guidance. (I'm sure you can see where the metaphor is going already)
But there were two moments that really stood out to me:
The first was in the caves themselves: I had only a candle for light, which was great, but occasionally didn't give quite enough light. So Fr. David was quite often stopping and shining a light in my path to keep me from tripping (I'll let you draw the obvious metaphor)
The other time was outside the caves, when we were all scrambling down the sides of the hills. I slipped on the loose rocks and sand, and almost slid down (it wouldn't have been a bad fall-just a few feet-but still uncomfortable). Fr. David planted his foot right under mine and kept me from slipping.
By now you've figured out the thoughts running through my mind: this is part of the ministry of priests, to shine light into the darkness, and to help those who are slipping into sin. Again, obvious. But a cool image of it, nonetheless.
Meditation 3. Fire on the Mountain
Being in the desert tends to make one think of the imagery and story of the Exodus and the wandering in the wilderness. I love the deserts and high plains; their beauty is subtle, fierce, and wild. The Anza-Borrego was no different, nor was the arroyo in which we were camping. We saw the hills and sand first by moonlight; the hills looked cold and raw, like mountains on some distant planet. The moon shone so brightly it cast shadows on the ground. And God was in the night.
In the warm morning sunlight, the hills looked hot and dusty, as millions of days under the glare of the sun turned everything to fine sand. The scraggly bushes poked forth leaves in varying degrees of verdancy, and God was in the day.
There was no guiding cloud, no pillar of fire by night. But God burned in every leaf on the bush and on the peak of every hill.
Monday, January 29
The Trip
I've been curious about the Mud Caves of the Anza-Borrego Desert for years, but never been there. I started to get really excited the closer we got; I love the high plains and the desert--they have this wild, subtle beauty that takes practice to see.
We got there late, after dark, but the moonlight was so bright we could walk around without difficulty. In fact, I'm glad I saw the hills by moonlight first: it looked like the surface of a distant planet, with ragged hills and stardust spilling down the little valleys. (it was used as the setting for part of the planet Mars in the Starman series; one of the authors was our guide on the trip)
We set up camp and decided to visit one cave before it got too late. We walked a few yards down the road to Plunge Pool, and entered the cave. There weren't enough flashlights to go around, so I got to use a candle instead. Which is great, because I like candles better; I love the dancing flames and the warm light. The cave winds for a few narrow yards before widening out into a cavern, with a skylight 30 feet up. At night, it was completely dark; we put out all our lights, and talked in the dark for a long time. Then we lit our lights, and went back to camp.
We cooked dinner (hot dogs!!) and I discovered that you can, in fact, roast a strawberry over a campfire: it's very good, though you have to be careful, since the fruit gets VERY hot. Fr. David had brought some square handmade peppermint marshmallows, and we toasted a few of those, too. Brian entertained us all by telling a story, enjoying our laughter before realizing that we were laughing more at the charcoal he'd inadvertently rubbed all over his face than at the story. Fr. David brought out The Mad Scientists' Club ---a book that has long been a favorite of mine--and read "The Voice in the Chimney". By the time the story was over, we were all stamping our feet trying to warm up, and shivering.
Everyone froze during the night, except maybe Ashley, who said she was warm. That day was spent clambering around the caves, getting covered in dust, sand, and various scrapes. More on this part in the meditations post. I had enormous amounts of fun finding bits of mica in the rocks and dust on top of the caves, and exploring the great textures left in the mud.
We went back to camp and ate lunch (hot dog sandwiches! A coyote or something had made off with our hot dog buns in the night) then headed out to a few more caves. Brian scared us all by attempting to climb down a cliff wall to another cave opening, but gave up when he saw that it was just too dangerous.
In another cave, we came up into the light in a small hollow. We all sat down to rest, and Ashley and I lay down on a rock, propped our feet up on the far wall, and looked up at the darkening sky. The moon was up, and a jet soared by overhead, leaving a pink trail behind it. We headed back down, and walked back to camp; dinner was chili, with onions and sourdough bread. Fr. David read us "The Strange Sea Monster of Strawberry Lake," my favorite of the m ad Scientists Club stories.
The moon was bright and clear again, and we did some climbing that night by its light on the nearby hills. Ashley and I sat ourselves on top of the hill that overlooked the campsite, and lay on our backs to look at the moon; we even saw a shooting star! I think two bats flew overhead, too.
We all slept warmer that night, and slept well. I woke up briefly in the middle of the night, after the moon had set; the starlight was bright enough to see by! Not as well as the moonlight, but enough.
We got up that morning; I did some drawing and writing, several of the others went for walks. Brian finished up the last chapter of the first Starman book. We packed up camp and headed up to Ghost Mountain, home to writer Marshall South in the 1930's. It's a mile-long trek uphill to get to the ruins of the adobe house, but well worth it. We had Mass in the middle of the ruins, and then headed back down the hill, and headed back towards home. I, unfortunately, got rather carsick, and didn't fell at all well. When we stopped for lunch (my first meal of the day, at 3 pm!) at the Wynola Pizza Express, I could hardly choke down three pieces of my mushroom pizza (which was sad, because it was excellent pizza; I highly recommend the restaurant!) When we got back in the car, Ashley suggested that we read the Gospel of John on the way home: Erin and I took turns reading, while Ashley drove. Due to a bit of a jam on the 91, we actually got to finish the whole book! We dropped Erin off, and drove back to the church, loaded my stuff into my car, and the trip was over!
I've been curious about the Mud Caves of the Anza-Borrego Desert for years, but never been there. I started to get really excited the closer we got; I love the high plains and the desert--they have this wild, subtle beauty that takes practice to see.
We got there late, after dark, but the moonlight was so bright we could walk around without difficulty. In fact, I'm glad I saw the hills by moonlight first: it looked like the surface of a distant planet, with ragged hills and stardust spilling down the little valleys. (it was used as the setting for part of the planet Mars in the Starman series; one of the authors was our guide on the trip)
We set up camp and decided to visit one cave before it got too late. We walked a few yards down the road to Plunge Pool, and entered the cave. There weren't enough flashlights to go around, so I got to use a candle instead. Which is great, because I like candles better; I love the dancing flames and the warm light. The cave winds for a few narrow yards before widening out into a cavern, with a skylight 30 feet up. At night, it was completely dark; we put out all our lights, and talked in the dark for a long time. Then we lit our lights, and went back to camp.
We cooked dinner (hot dogs!!) and I discovered that you can, in fact, roast a strawberry over a campfire: it's very good, though you have to be careful, since the fruit gets VERY hot. Fr. David had brought some square handmade peppermint marshmallows, and we toasted a few of those, too. Brian entertained us all by telling a story, enjoying our laughter before realizing that we were laughing more at the charcoal he'd inadvertently rubbed all over his face than at the story. Fr. David brought out The Mad Scientists' Club ---a book that has long been a favorite of mine--and read "The Voice in the Chimney". By the time the story was over, we were all stamping our feet trying to warm up, and shivering.
Everyone froze during the night, except maybe Ashley, who said she was warm. That day was spent clambering around the caves, getting covered in dust, sand, and various scrapes. More on this part in the meditations post. I had enormous amounts of fun finding bits of mica in the rocks and dust on top of the caves, and exploring the great textures left in the mud.
We went back to camp and ate lunch (hot dog sandwiches! A coyote or something had made off with our hot dog buns in the night) then headed out to a few more caves. Brian scared us all by attempting to climb down a cliff wall to another cave opening, but gave up when he saw that it was just too dangerous.
In another cave, we came up into the light in a small hollow. We all sat down to rest, and Ashley and I lay down on a rock, propped our feet up on the far wall, and looked up at the darkening sky. The moon was up, and a jet soared by overhead, leaving a pink trail behind it. We headed back down, and walked back to camp; dinner was chili, with onions and sourdough bread. Fr. David read us "The Strange Sea Monster of Strawberry Lake," my favorite of the m ad Scientists Club stories.
The moon was bright and clear again, and we did some climbing that night by its light on the nearby hills. Ashley and I sat ourselves on top of the hill that overlooked the campsite, and lay on our backs to look at the moon; we even saw a shooting star! I think two bats flew overhead, too.
We all slept warmer that night, and slept well. I woke up briefly in the middle of the night, after the moon had set; the starlight was bright enough to see by! Not as well as the moonlight, but enough.
We got up that morning; I did some drawing and writing, several of the others went for walks. Brian finished up the last chapter of the first Starman book. We packed up camp and headed up to Ghost Mountain, home to writer Marshall South in the 1930's. It's a mile-long trek uphill to get to the ruins of the adobe house, but well worth it. We had Mass in the middle of the ruins, and then headed back down the hill, and headed back towards home. I, unfortunately, got rather carsick, and didn't fell at all well. When we stopped for lunch (my first meal of the day, at 3 pm!) at the Wynola Pizza Express, I could hardly choke down three pieces of my mushroom pizza (which was sad, because it was excellent pizza; I highly recommend the restaurant!) When we got back in the car, Ashley suggested that we read the Gospel of John on the way home: Erin and I took turns reading, while Ashley drove. Due to a bit of a jam on the 91, we actually got to finish the whole book! We dropped Erin off, and drove back to the church, loaded my stuff into my car, and the trip was over!
Tuesday, January 23
Prayer needed
Hey all, I could really use your prayers right now. Due largely to sleeping on really bad mattresses of late (amongst other things), my back hurts very badly most of the time. It started off with just the occasional pain in the lower right back, but now it's spread to the whole of my lower back and upper legs. It's almost constant pain anytime I'm standing, and anytime I switch positions. Fortunately, I sit down for most of the day at work, but it's definately getting worse. Please pray that I can afford to see a doctor soon, and that I deal with the pain well (instead of being grouchy, which is what I do most of the time. Sigh.)
Hey all, I could really use your prayers right now. Due largely to sleeping on really bad mattresses of late (amongst other things), my back hurts very badly most of the time. It started off with just the occasional pain in the lower right back, but now it's spread to the whole of my lower back and upper legs. It's almost constant pain anytime I'm standing, and anytime I switch positions. Fortunately, I sit down for most of the day at work, but it's definately getting worse. Please pray that I can afford to see a doctor soon, and that I deal with the pain well (instead of being grouchy, which is what I do most of the time. Sigh.)
Sunday, January 21
Love Story
You ever watch those great movies or wonderful old stories? You know, the kind where the great prince is serving as a gardener in the princess' palace, or as a stableboy, or an accountant, or something, and you know the two of them just have to get together, but the princess can't see the true worth of the guy trimming the verge?
I love those stories. They're so....well, so true.
Archetypally, at any rate.
Think about it: we're all living this fairy tale. The soul (which I shall refer to in the feminine case, as that's traditional and works better for the analogy) is a princess, living her life, concerned with all the things of the world. But in the garden, a prince waits: dressed in humble garb, with quiet honesty and integrity. Will she notice Him? Will she cease being drawn into the petty intrigue of the court, and give herself to the Prince, before it's too late?
This is a story that the angels themselves watch with bated breath. The Prince of Peace, king of the cosmos, becomes man, and sets aside His glory. He woos the soul, never by force or showy glamour, but with a fiery love and passion. Will she notice? Will she stop being drawn aside into other affections? Will she stop toying with Him, and finally be His? Or will she spurn Him, and chase after the wind?
"O to grace how great a debtor
Daily I’m constrained to be!
Let Thy goodness, like a fetter,
Bind my wandering heart to Thee.
Prone to wander, Lord, I feel it,
Prone to leave the God I love;
Here’s my heart, O take and seal it,
Seal it for Thy courts above."
You ever watch those great movies or wonderful old stories? You know, the kind where the great prince is serving as a gardener in the princess' palace, or as a stableboy, or an accountant, or something, and you know the two of them just have to get together, but the princess can't see the true worth of the guy trimming the verge?
I love those stories. They're so....well, so true.
Archetypally, at any rate.
Think about it: we're all living this fairy tale. The soul (which I shall refer to in the feminine case, as that's traditional and works better for the analogy) is a princess, living her life, concerned with all the things of the world. But in the garden, a prince waits: dressed in humble garb, with quiet honesty and integrity. Will she notice Him? Will she cease being drawn into the petty intrigue of the court, and give herself to the Prince, before it's too late?
This is a story that the angels themselves watch with bated breath. The Prince of Peace, king of the cosmos, becomes man, and sets aside His glory. He woos the soul, never by force or showy glamour, but with a fiery love and passion. Will she notice? Will she stop being drawn aside into other affections? Will she stop toying with Him, and finally be His? Or will she spurn Him, and chase after the wind?
"O to grace how great a debtor
Daily I’m constrained to be!
Let Thy goodness, like a fetter,
Bind my wandering heart to Thee.
Prone to wander, Lord, I feel it,
Prone to leave the God I love;
Here’s my heart, O take and seal it,
Seal it for Thy courts above."
Thursday, January 18
Monday, January 15
8 Simple rules for watching a movie in a shared living room:
1. DO NOT walk in on the movie halfway through, and continually ask the person watching it to tell you what's going on. JUST WATCH THE FREAKIN' FILM! The person will not mind if you do so, at least not as much as she minds constantly pausing to explain. This goes doubly so if the person watching the movie has never seen said movie before.
2. DO NOT constantly ask what's going on when you've been watching the movie from the beginning. More than likely, the film itself will answer your questions--that's kind of the point. If you don't understand after it's over, then you can ask questions. If you just want a few sentence summary of the film, go read IMDB.
3. DO NOT constantly come through the room, talking loudly or making a lot of noise. The person watching the movie wants to be able to hear it. If you find that they are continually turning the volume up, you are being too loud. (NOTE: This only applies if the person watching the film was there first. If the person talking was there first, the movie-watcher is being rude and gets what she deserves.)
4. DO NOT mock the movie if you notice that the person watching it appears moved by the story.
5. DO NOT talk about bad effects on classic movies. Nobody cares. All past effects are bad by the most recent standards. The Red-Sea-peeling-back on The Ten Commandments is still cool, regardless of looking a little funny.
6. DO NOT mock the acting style in classic movies. A different acting style was in vogue at the time; they would have considered today's actors terrible. Just get in the mindset of the time. It's not that hard.
7. FOREIGN FILMS AND ART FILMS are just weird. Do not ask the person attempting to watch them to explain it. Even if they like it, they won't be able to explain why. If you don't get it, just accept it, and be quiet.
8. IF you don't like the movie, just leave. Don't mock it, complain about it, or try to drown it out. Go read a book. (Again, only applies when the movie-watcher was there first)
1. DO NOT walk in on the movie halfway through, and continually ask the person watching it to tell you what's going on. JUST WATCH THE FREAKIN' FILM! The person will not mind if you do so, at least not as much as she minds constantly pausing to explain. This goes doubly so if the person watching the movie has never seen said movie before.
2. DO NOT constantly ask what's going on when you've been watching the movie from the beginning. More than likely, the film itself will answer your questions--that's kind of the point. If you don't understand after it's over, then you can ask questions. If you just want a few sentence summary of the film, go read IMDB.
3. DO NOT constantly come through the room, talking loudly or making a lot of noise. The person watching the movie wants to be able to hear it. If you find that they are continually turning the volume up, you are being too loud. (NOTE: This only applies if the person watching the film was there first. If the person talking was there first, the movie-watcher is being rude and gets what she deserves.)
4. DO NOT mock the movie if you notice that the person watching it appears moved by the story.
5. DO NOT talk about bad effects on classic movies. Nobody cares. All past effects are bad by the most recent standards. The Red-Sea-peeling-back on The Ten Commandments is still cool, regardless of looking a little funny.
6. DO NOT mock the acting style in classic movies. A different acting style was in vogue at the time; they would have considered today's actors terrible. Just get in the mindset of the time. It's not that hard.
7. FOREIGN FILMS AND ART FILMS are just weird. Do not ask the person attempting to watch them to explain it. Even if they like it, they won't be able to explain why. If you don't get it, just accept it, and be quiet.
8. IF you don't like the movie, just leave. Don't mock it, complain about it, or try to drown it out. Go read a book. (Again, only applies when the movie-watcher was there first)
Thursday, January 11
Entering the Labyrinth
I just went to see Pan's Labyrinth with two of my best friends. Pan's Labyrinth is a foreign film, all the dialogue is in Castillian Spanish (lovely langauge!), and it is a combination war story/fantasy film.
I'm still processing this movie. It's been compared, in terms of emotional impact and brutality, to Schindler's List, and the comparison is not unwarranted. It's not quite so much so as SL, but close enough.
The requirements for watching this film are:
1. A strong stomach. If you can watch Schindler's List, you'll be fine. If you can't handle Schindler's List, watch Pan's Labyrinth at your own risk.
2. An appreciation for good fantasy (MacDonald, Gaiman, etc)
3. A willingness to believe in fairies.
Most reviews of the film spin it as a young girl in war-torn Spain who creates her own fantasy world to escape to. That's a valid interpretation of the film, up to a point; the first half of the movie is unclear about whether or not these fantastic things that Ofelia experiences are real or the product of her active imagination. But at a certain point (the mandrake root screaming) it becomes clear that there is at least a real connection between the two worlds. From that point on, the physical events become harder to explain if Ofelia's world is not real.
It seemed to me that the film had several strong themes: courage, parents and children, humility, and sacrifice. Sometimes the themes ran seperately, but they often seemed to come together into a larger theme (meta-theme?). Specifically, one of the themes seemed to be the courage necessary to willing undergo the humility and sacrifices of being a parent. (All credit on these thoughts go to Rachel Motte, who brought them up. Rachel, blog about the movie soon, I want to hear more!) The viewer is shown a mother without the courage to go through loneliness for her daughter's sake, a son who cannot bear to hear any mention of his father--a man who could die well, and a daughter who will give up everything for her baby brother.
The tagline for the film sums it up the best: "Innocence has a power that Evil cannot imagine." Pan's Labyrinth allows evil to do its worst, and doesn't pull any punches. But it also shows the efficacy of innocence, and leaves the viewer amazed at the power released by sacrifice.
I just went to see Pan's Labyrinth with two of my best friends. Pan's Labyrinth is a foreign film, all the dialogue is in Castillian Spanish (lovely langauge!), and it is a combination war story/fantasy film.
I'm still processing this movie. It's been compared, in terms of emotional impact and brutality, to Schindler's List, and the comparison is not unwarranted. It's not quite so much so as SL, but close enough.
The requirements for watching this film are:
1. A strong stomach. If you can watch Schindler's List, you'll be fine. If you can't handle Schindler's List, watch Pan's Labyrinth at your own risk.
2. An appreciation for good fantasy (MacDonald, Gaiman, etc)
3. A willingness to believe in fairies.
Most reviews of the film spin it as a young girl in war-torn Spain who creates her own fantasy world to escape to. That's a valid interpretation of the film, up to a point; the first half of the movie is unclear about whether or not these fantastic things that Ofelia experiences are real or the product of her active imagination. But at a certain point (the mandrake root screaming) it becomes clear that there is at least a real connection between the two worlds. From that point on, the physical events become harder to explain if Ofelia's world is not real.
It seemed to me that the film had several strong themes: courage, parents and children, humility, and sacrifice. Sometimes the themes ran seperately, but they often seemed to come together into a larger theme (meta-theme?). Specifically, one of the themes seemed to be the courage necessary to willing undergo the humility and sacrifices of being a parent. (All credit on these thoughts go to Rachel Motte, who brought them up. Rachel, blog about the movie soon, I want to hear more!) The viewer is shown a mother without the courage to go through loneliness for her daughter's sake, a son who cannot bear to hear any mention of his father--a man who could die well, and a daughter who will give up everything for her baby brother.
The tagline for the film sums it up the best: "Innocence has a power that Evil cannot imagine." Pan's Labyrinth allows evil to do its worst, and doesn't pull any punches. But it also shows the efficacy of innocence, and leaves the viewer amazed at the power released by sacrifice.
Friday, January 5
This could become a new favorite website.... http://www.etiquettegrrls.com/pages/home.html
If you like Go Fug Yourself, you'll like The Etiquette Grrrls.
If you like Go Fug Yourself, you'll like The Etiquette Grrrls.
Tuesday, January 2
Thoughts on Ecclesiastes:
"3: 9. What gain has the worker from his toil?
10: I have seen the business that God has given to the sons of men to be busy with.
11: He has made everything beautiful in its time; also he has put eternity into man's mind, yet so that he cannot find out what God has done from the beginning to the end.
12: I know that there is nothing better for them than to be happy and enjoy themselves as long as they live;
13: also that it is God's gift to man that every one should eat and drink and take pleasure in all his toil.
14: I know that whatever God does endures for ever; nothing can be added to it, nor anything taken from it; God has made it so, in order that men should fear before him."
10: I have seen the business that God has given to the sons of men to be busy with.
11: He has made everything beautiful in its time; also he has put eternity into man's mind, yet so that he cannot find out what God has done from the beginning to the end.
12: I know that there is nothing better for them than to be happy and enjoy themselves as long as they live;
13: also that it is God's gift to man that every one should eat and drink and take pleasure in all his toil.
14: I know that whatever God does endures for ever; nothing can be added to it, nor anything taken from it; God has made it so, in order that men should fear before him."
I used to read this passage with great confusion.Verse 12 does not seem like what you expect to find in the Bible. And hasn't the Teacher just stated that pursuing pleasure is folly?
And then today I realized something: the Teacher is right. Because pursuing pleasure does not bring happiness, nor, in the end, even pleasure. What does make men happy? Walking with God, doing justice, making an honest living, and loving those around them. Man is not happy without God. Man is not happy without work.
There really is a time for everything. A time to work, and a time to rest. A time for fasting, and a time for feasting. We go from one to the other, spring turning to summer, then to fall, and winter, and then back again. Advent becoming Epiphany, then moving to Lent, Easter, Pentecost, and back again. We laugh, cry, rejoice, sigh, rage, and fear. And it is good. Human life, in its smallness and ordinariness, is good. It can be holy, if we so wish. It is mundane, of the earth, and like the earth, it is immense and grand as the ocean, and as small and humble as a grain of sand.
And it's ok that nothing makes sense, or really holds together. Nothing we do or see ever will. And that's alright. That's the way things are (though not how they were meant to be.) We can grieve for what was, what should have been, and give thanks that God did not leave us to it, and that His works are eternal, and He will preserve what is to be perserved.
The Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away: blessed be the name of the Lord.
Thursday, December 28
How Can I Keep From Singing?
Sorry for taking so long to blog again, everybody, things have been crazy.
Lately I've been reading Dr. Reynolds' Christmas blog posts; you can read the latest one here.
I get pretty discouraged sometimes. I feel like I'm made almost no progress in shaping my soul. I still have a hard time saving money, eating right, excercizing, and I still have largely terrible taste in music.
But then I look back to myself in high school, and I realize that I have changed. I'm no longer so angry, or so arrogant. I still struggle greatly with despair, and probably always will, but I now have courage to fight that battle and face that despair.
My tastes in music have definately improved: I can watch opera (still can't listen without the staged visuals) and enjoy it, I like the groups Anonymous 4 and Sequentia, and I love Pachelbel's Canon in D(in fact, that peice is a powerful weapon against despair; its order, structure, and simple melody can snap me out of depression.) I even like a little ballet.
I don't really know what any of this means. Sometimes I think the hardest thing about life is that you just have to go out there every day, and do the same thing. You have to do your duty every day, make the right choices everyday, and be an adult everyday.
The temptation to shirk all that is inescapable at times. You just want to make one bad choice, let one duty slide, act childish for a few hours. We're rarely, if ever, allowed to see how those good choices impact our lives, and the lives of those around us. It seems like life just going along like usual. But when we make the wrong choices, we see how important the right ones were.
C.S. Lewis said "No man knows how bad he is till he has tried very hard to be good. A silly idea is current that good people do not know what temptation means. This is an obvious lie. Only those who try to resist temptation know how strong it is. After all, you find out the strength of the German army by fighting against it, not by giving in. You find out the strength of a wind by trying to walk against it, not by lying down. A man who gives in to temptation after five minutes simply does not know what it would have been like an hour later. That is why bad people, in one sense, know very little about badness. They have lived a sheltered life by always giving in. We never find out the strength of the evil impulse inside us until we try to fight it: and Christ, because he was the only man who never yielded to temptation, is also the only man who knows to the full what temptation means--the only complete realist."
It never feels like a glorious battle. Only a long trudge, fighting against enemies we can't see, and often fighting our own selves.
Yet.....
There is a joy in it all. A song can live in the most downtrodden heart, and all the slings and arrows of fortune cannot take it away.
"My life goes on in endless song
Above earths lamentations,
I hear the real, though far-off hymn
That hails a new creation."
Through all the tumult and the strife
I hear its music ringing,
It sounds an echo in my soul.
How can I keep from singing? "
While though the tempest loudly roars,
I hear the truth, it liveth.
And though the darkness round me close,
Songs in the night it giveth."
No storm can shake my inmost calm,
While to that rock Im clinging.
Since love is lord of heaven and earth
How can I keep from singing? "
When tyrants tremble in their fear
And hear their death knell ringing,
When friends rejoice both far and near
How can I keep from singing? "
In prison cell and dungeon vile
Our thoughts to them are winging,
When friends by shame are undefiled
How can I keep from singing?"
Sorry for taking so long to blog again, everybody, things have been crazy.
Lately I've been reading Dr. Reynolds' Christmas blog posts; you can read the latest one here.
I get pretty discouraged sometimes. I feel like I'm made almost no progress in shaping my soul. I still have a hard time saving money, eating right, excercizing, and I still have largely terrible taste in music.
But then I look back to myself in high school, and I realize that I have changed. I'm no longer so angry, or so arrogant. I still struggle greatly with despair, and probably always will, but I now have courage to fight that battle and face that despair.
My tastes in music have definately improved: I can watch opera (still can't listen without the staged visuals) and enjoy it, I like the groups Anonymous 4 and Sequentia, and I love Pachelbel's Canon in D(in fact, that peice is a powerful weapon against despair; its order, structure, and simple melody can snap me out of depression.) I even like a little ballet.
I don't really know what any of this means. Sometimes I think the hardest thing about life is that you just have to go out there every day, and do the same thing. You have to do your duty every day, make the right choices everyday, and be an adult everyday.
The temptation to shirk all that is inescapable at times. You just want to make one bad choice, let one duty slide, act childish for a few hours. We're rarely, if ever, allowed to see how those good choices impact our lives, and the lives of those around us. It seems like life just going along like usual. But when we make the wrong choices, we see how important the right ones were.
C.S. Lewis said "No man knows how bad he is till he has tried very hard to be good. A silly idea is current that good people do not know what temptation means. This is an obvious lie. Only those who try to resist temptation know how strong it is. After all, you find out the strength of the German army by fighting against it, not by giving in. You find out the strength of a wind by trying to walk against it, not by lying down. A man who gives in to temptation after five minutes simply does not know what it would have been like an hour later. That is why bad people, in one sense, know very little about badness. They have lived a sheltered life by always giving in. We never find out the strength of the evil impulse inside us until we try to fight it: and Christ, because he was the only man who never yielded to temptation, is also the only man who knows to the full what temptation means--the only complete realist."
It never feels like a glorious battle. Only a long trudge, fighting against enemies we can't see, and often fighting our own selves.
Yet.....
There is a joy in it all. A song can live in the most downtrodden heart, and all the slings and arrows of fortune cannot take it away.
"My life goes on in endless song
Above earths lamentations,
I hear the real, though far-off hymn
That hails a new creation."
Through all the tumult and the strife
I hear its music ringing,
It sounds an echo in my soul.
How can I keep from singing? "
While though the tempest loudly roars,
I hear the truth, it liveth.
And though the darkness round me close,
Songs in the night it giveth."
No storm can shake my inmost calm,
While to that rock Im clinging.
Since love is lord of heaven and earth
How can I keep from singing? "
When tyrants tremble in their fear
And hear their death knell ringing,
When friends rejoice both far and near
How can I keep from singing? "
In prison cell and dungeon vile
Our thoughts to them are winging,
When friends by shame are undefiled
How can I keep from singing?"
Saturday, December 16
Tuesday, November 21
So...yeah, I haven't posted a while. And I probably won't until the end of November for two reasons:
1. NaNoWriMo. It's November. That means 50,000 words in 30 days.
2. Kidney stones. Which still hurt like all heck. I tried to go to work today, I really did. I made it 3 hours, then had to go home again, and have been sleeping and lounging all day. With Vicodin. Which is lovely stuff, truly.
So, yeah, these combine to make me not want to blog right now. Sorry.
:)
1. NaNoWriMo. It's November. That means 50,000 words in 30 days.
2. Kidney stones. Which still hurt like all heck. I tried to go to work today, I really did. I made it 3 hours, then had to go home again, and have been sleeping and lounging all day. With Vicodin. Which is lovely stuff, truly.
So, yeah, these combine to make me not want to blog right now. Sorry.
:)
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
