Deserter or Loyalist?

I've been thinking about the music I listen to lately. A lot of it is tied to my Southern/Texan roots. I love songs like "Sweet Home Alabama," "Down on the Corner," and just about everything by John Denver. I could sing along to parts of the O Brother Where Art Thou soundtrack the first time I saw the movie. I not only know who the Kossoy Sisters and the New Christy Minstrels are, I can sing the harmonies on several of their songs.

But I don't want to live in the Texas Panhandle, where I grew up, ever again. I still love that landscape, the wide open prairies and the brilliant night skies. But I'm a university sort of person, and that culture doesn't exist up there.

So, by hanging on to these bits of culture, am I helping to preserve a bit of it, or am I being a traitor by simply "picking and choosing" the bits I like?

I don't like country music, and probably never will. I'm not feigning an interest in it just to be "Texan." But neither do I intend to give up the Southern music I like just because it makes me "weird" to listen to it. I genuinely like the songs "Thank God I'm a Country Boy," and "Christmas for Cowboys," and I'm not about to pretend that I don't. I'm not going to make anyone else listen to them (for which they can be thankful!) but I'm not going to act like I've outgrown them. If anything, I've grown into them. As a kid, I never liked bluegrass music, but as I've gotten older and learned to like Celtic music, I can see those roots in it, and see how it is the root of a lot of music that I really do like. I can listen to some of it now.

So, the question remains: traitor, or loyalist? Am I picking my culture to pieces, or helping preserve a little bit of it?

The Return of the Blog

Yes, I am attempting to return to normal blogging again. I have been obsessed with NationalNovelWritingMonth for the past 23 days, but I just hit 50,000 words last night, so that will slack off a bit. Now, for the posting of the book on the other blog, and the months and months of editing!!

Ok, taking a break from the novel to do a real post. I think.

A little depressed today: not sure if it's just backlash from the whole novel-writing thing (which I'm actually doing rather well on), or dread for the art classes I have today, or nervousness over the Plato Metathon this weekend. Everyone in that class intimidates me (except Katie Fisher, I think), and I feel really inadequate. But I've been mostly keeping up, until now. And I'm really REALLY scared that I'm going to say something this weekend, and everyone's going to suddenly realize that I'm not that smart, and is going to...I don't know. That's when I start to realize that this fear is unfounded, because even if that did happen, no-one would blink an eye, or even comment on it, really. It wouldn't change my standing with these people. Not most of them, anyway (the others I don't know well enough to say what they'd do).

So it's got to all be ok, but....Man, it's stressing. I wish some of my friends weren't so distant lately. It's not that they're not friendly, or anything, just...distant.

On the good news front, though, the novel is going well, and yes it has completely taken over my life. To the extent that I forgot to study for a test yesterday. (oddly enough, it was one of my better tests in that class.) Just so long as I don't forget to write the first draft of my paper, which is due next week! But the novel is going well. I'm not using up my plot too soon as I am prone to do, nor am I doing any unnecessary padding, I think. In fact, there are several places where I need to add a LOT of plot. And my writing group laughed a lot at a certain chapter that I liked, so that was good. (for those who are wondering, they loved the flashback in chapter 4, with the guy and his writing group. They loved that whole bit. Yay!)

I trust this book; the characters have started running ahead of me, showing me things about themselves that I had no idea were there. The whole thing with doing flashbacks and memories? Yeah, that was their idea, not mine. It's a good sign when characters start doing that, it means that they've taken on a life of their own. Huzzah!

This has been an incredibly helpful and productive project. This is more words than I've ever written at one time, and the most sustained story I've ever written. It's also very revealing, because I didn't think I could do it. I'm not sure I could without the challenge of doing 50,000 in a month. But I'm a very competitive person, and I refuse to be beaten by a mere deadline! Even if I did start 5 days late!

Final word count from last night: 8042.

My head hurts. I think I sprained my creativity.

Word count: 7132.

3 days, 6000 words

Yep, that's how many words I have in my novel so far, give or take a few. Actually, mostly it's give a few; my space bar sometimes doesn't work, and words run together.

6000 words is a LOT of words to write, but not many to read. *sigh* This is depressing. My 4 chapters equal about one and a half decent-length chapters, and 50,000 words is only about 150 pages. So short....and yet, so long.

http://thegiftnovel.blogspot.com Tell me what you think of these brave 6000 words. Into the valley of Microsoft Word galloped the 6000.......Critiques to the right of them, critiques to the left of them...Theirs not to question why, theirs but to write or die. Yeah.

This is NaNoBlogMo!!! National Novel Blog Month, that is. The challenge: write a 50,000 word novel by midnight November 30th! Am I going to try? You bet! Am I crazy? Of course!!!

My story can be found at www.thegiftnovel.blogspot.com. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE critique it! Anyway, please critique it once I get my comments up and running....

Some time ago, in my roommate's English class, the prof was talking about the idea of the sublime, and said that some things, such as elephants running off a cliff into the sea in a rainstorm, could not be sublime. Liz, of course, took this as a challenge, and had our writing group write scenes in which that experience is sublime. Here is mine:


Sublime
-------------------
The problem with being granted a sign is that quite often, you need another sign to explain the first one.

So it is with the sign I have been given. I have no doubt that it is, in fact, a sign: it has unmade my thoughts and my heart is aflame. But what the sign signifies is beyond my ability to grasp.
It was a day ripe for signs, an apocalpyse contained in a rainstorm. The air was heavy and pregnant with moisture, yearning for release. The wind was cold and damp, heavily scented with the smell of the sea and rains from distant lands. The clouds hung heavy, barely clearing the ground, and lightning flashed in the distance.

I stood, with the ocean on my right and the trees to my left, looking out along the coast, and admiring the brief reflections that the lightning cast on the water. The waves rippled in the wind, as restless as the air itself. Suddenly, as the storm drew closer, an arc of lightning dashed out from the stormfront and cast itself into the water. The air was full of steam, and my nose prickled with a scent unlike any I had ever smelled. If anyone had been around to see, they would have seen my hair standing around my head like a halo, practically shimmering with electrons. It was then I knew that I must wait, for a sign would be granted.

I'm not sure how long I stood there, the incense of fire and water wafting around me, but it could not have been long, for the steam was still rising from the water when I began to hear it. At first, it was indistinguishable from the thunder. Then it was part of the thunder, a deep rumble in the land. Finally, it become the source from which the thunder rolled, crashing about my head.

As I turned to the trees, I saw them. They moved out of the trees as if they did not see them, and I am not at all sure that they did. I would say that they moved through the trees like ghosts, but it would be more truthful to say that the land and all that was in it were like ghosts in their presence. As they moved across my line of sight, I could see the water in their eyes. It called to them, as it had to me, but they alone knew how to answer the call.

To this day, I do not know whether they were called by the water, or the lightning, or by some force of which both were merely a symptom. But on they came, the lightning reflected in their tusks, ears blowing in the gusting wind. They were silent giants, except for the thunder of their stampeding feet. They did not trumpet to herald the lightning, nor to mourn their passing, but accepted it in a way that I cannot. For as they reached the cliffs that overlooked the sea, they did not slow, nor did they turn to the left or the right, but simply went over the edge of the cliff, into the water. Perhaps my hearing was damaged that day, or perhaps I simply was not listening, but I did not hear a single splash as they entered the water. The size of their bodies should have made a terriffic impact, but I heard nothing. Nothing, except the thunder of their feet, thunder beneath the waves.

I do not expect you to believe that this was a sign. After all, what could be significant about a herd of elephants running off a cliff into the ocean, in the rain? But this was my sign, my grail, and I do not know what it means. But to this day, when I hold a seashell to my ear, I hear a dim thunder beyond the rushing sound of the sea.

At a certain Halloween party, we were honored by the presence of Pope Gregory the 1st, Martin Luther, Catherine of Siena, two Joans of Arc, Thomas Aquinas, St. Francis, St. Clare, the Nicene Creed, and the Council of Trent. (also known as: Tim Motte, Kevin White, Joi Weaver, Rachel Robinson and Kate Saunders, Joel Britton, Tim Bartel, Ashley Romero, Erica Carl, and Nathan Hagberg.) As you can imagine, some interesting quotes resulted...


"Can somebody safety pin my chain mail?" ---Joan of Arc

Aquinas, to Luther: "There are two ways of committing heresy: one by thinking, and one by drinking."

"The Nicene Creed is about to get hit by a car!" ---Catherine of Siena

"I am necessary and sufficient for salvation!" ---Erica Carl (i.e., the Nicene Creed. But it sounds funnier coming from Erica herself)

"Let's see if Mr. Luther is as slow a driver as he is a thinker." ---Catherine of Siena

"It's a little weird to look back and see the Pope holding hands with Joan of Arc."

Catherine: "I see that although Mr. Luther preaches freedom from the law, he still stops for red lights."
Aquinas: "Yeah! Zoom on through by grace, Mr. Luther, and let's see how long you last!"

Catherine: "I'm Catherine of Siena."
Francis: "Oh! I saw her head!"
Aquinas: "He's having visions again."

Luther: "You, though you be dressed in the garb of greatness, are the greatest of sinners!"
Francis: "Your mom is the greatest of sinners!"

"Dang, Luther just stole from the Pope!" ---Catherine of Siena

"Quiet, you French harpy!" Luther to Joan

Luther: "Well, I---" *chokes on cupcake*
Joan: "He was about to say something positive, but it couldn't make its way out of his throat."

"The trick-or-treaters are the poor, unless they're dressed as demons, in which case they're Protestants."--Aquinas

Luther: "I've never died in obedience to Rome!"
Aquinas: "I've never died in it, I live in it!"

Clare: "I never killed anybody either!"
Luther: "Elitist!"

"Hey Joan, I think Francis' hand is falling into sin, would you cut it off?"---Clare

Nicene Creed: "Tim, move, your mitre's in the way of the TV."
Catherine: "If we position him right, we might get better reception."

Kevin: "You know, opening a door for a woman is a sign of opression."
Joi: "In that case, bring it on!"

"Who is your favorite creed?"--Clare

"Hey, I didn't get an anathema! Oh wait, I agree with you."---Clare
---------------

You know, it's amazing how much Luther-angst a group of Protestants can have. Most of us like Luther and largely agree with him. But when Luther is present, you just gotta bash him, because it's SO much fun. I wish Calvin could've shown up, though.

Conscious self	Overall self

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Enneagram Test Results Type 1 Perfectionism 26% Type 2 Helpfulness 60% Type 3 Image Awareness 36% Type 4 Sensitivity 60% Type 5 Detachment 76% Type 6 Anxiety 43% Type 7 Adventurousness 50% Type 8 Aggressiveness 33% Type 9 Calmness 46% Your Conscious-Surface type is 5w4 Your Unconscious-Overall type is 5w4

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Oh yeah. Artistic intellectual, absent-minded, likes being messy...that's me.

New version! Please review!

Biola is often known as a marriage school. Jokes on this subject abound, ranging from the "Bridal Institute of Los Angeles," to comparing Biola to a cobbler's shop (they take you in, mend your soles[souls] and send you out in pairs). But perhaps this is too often taken for granted, and we forget to think about the other option.

Many of us don't know much about celibacy--and sometimes even assume that it is based on the idea that sex is evil. Before I continue, let me take a few moments to explain the basic ideas behind the practice of celibacy.First of all, celibacy is thought to allow a person to be devoted to God alone. This is not to say that celibacy is the only state in which a person can be devoted to God; most people can marry and be devoted to God. Look at people like Billy Graham, or Jim and Elizabeth Elliot. Marriage itself is service to God; it has been known as the "bloodless martyrdom." But some people need--or wish--to be free of relationships that could distract them from God. I know that in my own life, celibacy is in some way a concession to a weakness, since I cannot--at least at this stage of my life--focus on human love and the love of God at the same time.Secondly, celibacy leaves one free to do whatever God may call on him to do. Wht does God call most people to do? Get married, have kids, love their family, and serve God. But perhaps God leaves a few people unattached who can drop everything at short notice, and do something drastic that needs to be done. Could Mother Theresa have given up everything to work with the poor in India if she'd had a husband and children to care for?(Yes, I realize there are exceptions to this, but they are few and far between.) But even without great dramatic things, the celibate person can devote lots of time to helping people in their communities.

This being said, why should we at Biola think about celibacy? After all, most of us don't come from churches with a monastic tradition, and we grow up thinking about "when I get married..." Also, if the majority of us neither need nor want to be celibate, why should we think about it?Firstly, Christianity has a long monastic tradition: many of the great saints were celibates. If nothing else, most Christians at most places at most times have found celibacy to be a good thing, whether they themselves were celibate or not.Secondly, celibacy might be God's will for some of us. Let's face it: not all of us will get married, for one reason or another. The only options that Christians have been given are monogamy and celibacy. If we do not marry, then we must be celibate.This leads to the third, and perhaps most relevant point. Even those of us who will get married but are not married yet must be celibate. This should not be a passive celibacy, one that is merely waiting for marriage, but an active one. Know who you are and who God wants you to be. None of us are half of a soul, looking for a missing half. We are whole people, made in the image of God. In the time of celibacy before marriage, let us learn how to be a whole soul and to serve God in the way He designed us to. Celibacy can, after all, be a preperation for marriage. A friend of mine once told me,"From what I understand of celibacy, it's a lot like fasting (chastity is more like nutrition). Celibacy shouldn't be seen as deprivation, but appreciating the gift of another and focusing on God in the meantime. Therefore, marriage shouldn't be seen as an escape from celibacy and chastity. If people do, then they do more damage to the sacrament than single celibates. " I hope I have made it clear that not all or even most people should be celibate. But we should learn the value of it, since we are all called to celibacy before marriage, and a few of us may take it as a permanent lifestyle.

Single Lady: Thoughts sparked by http://www.johnmarkreynolds.com/weblog.php, the post on Thursday October 21st. I simply can NOT figure out how to do the Trackback thing on here.

I am working through two main questions right now.

Number one: What am I going to do with my life? A large chunk of it has been freed up by deciding not to get married. However, this also means that more of my life will probably be spent working, since I will not have a second income to fall back on. I have no idea what sort of job I want; ideally, I'd like to mentor other girls in some way, both in education and in life.

Number two: How do I become more of a lady? I have spent most of my life resisting being "ladylike." My preference for jeans is well known, and my distaste for pantyhose is legendary. However, I've realized lately that somewhere along the way, I have started to not only become more ladylike, but also to care about whether or not I am acting like a lady. Some of this has been illustrated by my new love of wearing skirts and trying to restrain my usual temper.

So...how does a single woman who has to make her own way in the world also remember to be a lady? I'm not sure.

I think of the true ladies I've known. There's the lady I am named after, Elizabeth Joy Wilson; and the ladies I've known growing up. There is my dear friend Sharon, who is serving as a missionary in Africa right now. There's also the two ladies in my family, my mother and her mother. (I can't speak for my dad's mom, because I don't really remember her, unfortunately. I like all the stories I've heard about her)

My grandmother is amazing: she graduated from school in California, and I believe work into the workforce with her friend for a few years. She then met my grandfather and moved to Texas to marry him. She lived in the Texas panhandle for years, raising her family and helping run the farm. My grandad died when my mother was 16, and my grandmother took over the farm. She continued to run it for many years, then moved back to California to care for her aging parents. She helps at Awanas at her church, as well as Vacation Bible School, and is active in her Sunday School. Everyone in her church knows who she is. Her house is tasteful and homey, always a pleasure to visit. She is also a good cook. My mom is much like her: involved in church, good with money (something I sadly did not inherit), a tasteful decorator. Our house does not look like a page out of Better Homes and Gardens, but it does look nice, almost everything has a story, and it's ours. I always love getting out the Christmas decorations because they reflect so much of my family's life together. We have made many of them ourselves. My mom and dad have worked to make a house that is not only functional, but homey and tasteful as well.

I want to do many of these things as well; but I'm not sure if I will ever be able to afford a house of my own, particularly out here in Southern California, where I plan to live. But I do want to be able to extend hospitality to others, both older and younger than myself. I want to be able to welcome people to a place that truly is my home, a place that I have cared for, decorated, and worked on myself. I don't like buying culture, I like creating it. I want to create a space of my, that does not conform to anyone else's ideas of a fashionable home; one that will stand the years, and only age in the best ways. After all, age is so often a good thing. No-one wants to drink new wine, but we try to value youth in everything else. I want to be a true lady, like the ladies I've grown up with; I want to grow better with age.

Updated version! More comments please!

Celibacy

Biola is often known as a marriage school. Jokes on this subject abound, ranging from the "Bridal Institute of Los Angeles," to comparing Biola to a cobbler's shop (they take you in, mend your soles[souls] and send you out in pairs). But perhaps this is too often taken for granted, and we forget to think about the other option.

Many of us don't know much about celibacy--and sometimes even assume that it is based on the idea that sex is evil. Before I continue, let me take a few moments to explain the basic ideas behind the practice of celibacy.

First of all, celibacy is thought to allow a person to be devoted to God alone. This is not to say that celibacy is the only state in which a person can be devoted to God; most people can marry and be devoted to God. Look at people like Billy Graham, or Jim and Elizabeth Elliot. Marriage itself is service to God; it has been known as the "bloodless martyrdom." But some people need--or wish--to be free of relationships that could distract them from God. I know that in my own life, celibacy is in some way a concession to a weakness, since I cannot--at least at this stage of my life--focus on human love and the love of God at the same time.

Secondly, celibacy leaves one free to do whatever God may call on him to do. Wht does God call most people to do? Get married, have kids, love their family, and serve God. But perhaps God leaves a few people unattached who can drop everything at short notice, and do something drastic that needs to be done. Could Mother Theresa have given up everything to work with the poor in India if she'd had a husband and children to care for?(Yes, I realize there are exceptions to this, but they are few and far between.) But even without great dramatic things, the celibate person can devote lots of time to helping people in their communities.

This being said, why should we at Biola think about celibacy? After all, most of us don't come from churches with a monastic tradition, and we grow up thinking about "when I get married..." Also, if the majority of us neither need nor want to be celibate, why should we think about it?

Firstly, Christianity has a long monastic tradition: many of the great saints were celibates. If nothing else, most Christians at most places at most times have found celibacy to be a good thing, whether they themselves were celibate or not.

Secondly, celibacy might be God's will for some of us. Let's face it: not all of us will get married, for one reason or another. The only options that Christians have been given are monogamy and celibacy. If we do not marry, then we must be celibate.

This leads to the third, and perhaps most relevant point. Even those of us who will get married but are not married yet must be celibate. This should not be a passive celibacy, one that is merely waiting for marriage, but an active one. Know who you are and who God wants you to be. None of us are half of a soul, looking for a missing half. We are whole people, made in the image of God. In the time of celibacy before marriage, let us learn how to be a whole soul and to serve God in the way He designed us to. Celibacy can, after all, be a preperation for marriage.

I hope I have made it clear that not all or even most people should be celibate. But we should learn the value of it, since we are all called to celibacy before marriage, and a few of us may take it as a permanent lifestyle.

Move to the Music

I am sitting here, ostensibly at work, listening to a favorite Christmas cd on the computer (Yes, it's early for Christmas music. Yes, I always listen to it this early. No, I never EVER get tired of Christmas music. Not even in July.)

There are two songs on here, and both of them really make me want to dance, especially if I was wearing a wonderfuly swishy skirt. I don't want to dance with anyone romantically, but I do want to dance with people. I'm about to get up from my desk and start dancing to this music by myself!

As a kid, I was exposed to the idea that rock music was evil because it made you want to "move your body." Ok, sure, I'll grant that. Most people would. But the point was never made that a lot of music makes you want to move, including most folk tunes, and anything that's upbeat and Celtic. Some hymns would be excellent for dancing to.

Why is this, music making you move, assumed to be a bad thing? If music is what created the world, then we should move to music, at least to good music. Those of us who, like me, are not very good at making music, should at least learn to be influenced and guided by it. Should we all learn to dance?

Celibacy

I am consdering sending this essay in to my college paper. I'd like some critiques first, though!
------------------------------
Biola is often known as a marriage school. Jokes on this subject abound, ranging from the "Bridal Institute of Los Angeles," to comparing Biola to a cobbler's shop (they take you in, mend your soles[souls] and send you out in pairs). But perhaps this is too often taken for granted, and we forget to think about the other option.

Many of us don't know much about celibacy--and sometimes even assume that it is based on the idea that sex is evil. Before I continue, let me take a few moments to explain the basic ideas behind the practice of celibacy.

First of all, celibacy is thought to allow a person to be devoted to God alone. This is not to say that celibacy is the only state in which a person can be devoted to God; most people can marry and be devoted to God. Look at people like Billy Graham, or Jim and Elizabeth Elliot. Marriage itself is service to God; it has been known as the "bloodless martyrdom." But some people need--or wish--to be free of relationships that could distract them from God. I know that in my own life, celibacy is in some way a concession to a weakness, since I cannot--at least at this stage of my life--focus on human love and the love of God at the same time.

Secondly, celibacy leaves one free to do whatever God may call on him to do. Wht does God call most people to do? Get married, have kids, love their family, and serve God. But perhaps God leaves a few people unattached who can drop everything at short notice, and do something drastic that needs to be done. It would be cruel and irresponsible for someone with a family to care for to leave them and run around doing dramatic things. (yes, this sentence is bad; someone help!)

This being said, why should we at Biola think about celibacy? After all, most of us don't come from churches with a monastic tradition, and we grow up thinking about "when I get married..." Also, if the majority of us neither need nor want to be celibate, why should we think about it?

Firstly, Christianity has a long monastic tradition: many of the great saints were celibates. If nothing else, most Christians at most places at most times have found celibacy to be a good thing, whether they themselves were celibate or not.

Secondly, celibacy might be God's will for some of us. Let's face it: not all of us will get married, for one reason or another. The only options that Christians have been given are monogamy and celibacy. If we do not marry, then we must be celibate.

This leads to the third, and perhaps most relevant point. Even those of us who will get married but are not married yet must be celibate. This should not be a passive celibacy, one that is merely waiting for marriage, but an active one. Know who you are and who God wants you to be. You are not half of a soul, looking for a missing half. You are a whole person, made in the image of God. In the time of celibacy before marriage, learn how to be a whole soul and to serve God in the way He designed you to. Celibacy can, after all, be a preperation for marriage.

I hope I have made it clear that not all or even most people should be celibate. But we should learn the value of it, since we are all called to celibacy before marriage, and a few of us may take it as a permanent lifestyle.

Names

Today's Bible study at the Reynolds' house was about the importance of names. The story of my name is rather interesting.

My parents, when they were in college and after they first got married, had an older couple who were their friends. They seem to have been everyone's friends, actually. Anywhere you go in that area, you can find people who know and remember this couple. The woman's name was Elizabeth Joy Wilson, and she went by Betty. My parents liked that name (and her herself!) so much that that is the name they picked for me.
Elizabeth Joy means "joyfully consecrated to God;" unless I am much mistaken, I believe my parents also picked the name because they wanted their first child to be dedicated to God (I could be wrong about this, but I think maybe not). I never went by my full name, but my family always called me Betsy. One time when I was in about first grade, a girl at a camp asked me what my middle name was, and when I told her, she said it was a dumb name. For years afterward, I hated my middle name.
At one point in my life, I had only one or two friends in my life...except on the internet, where I was fairly popular. On-line, I went by the name Joi, a spelling of my middle name that I made up while trying to register for AOL instant messenger. Soon I identified with the name Joi more than the nickname Betsy; it simply felt more me, even though I was going through severe depression. When I came to college, I used only the name Joi. After going through a time of difficulty and taking anti-depressants, I finally began to grow into my new name, and began to learn to be truly joyful again (Joyful is actually one friend's nickname for me).
I recently made a very difficult decision regarding the direction of my life. since it will no longer be spent in the way that I had always thought it would, I am planning to dedicate my life to my friends around me, to serve them and help them on their journey.
And so we come full circle. I plan to dedicate my life to helping those around me, behind-the-scenes as it were, just like my namesake.

On the Monastic Life

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

http://quizilla.com/users/guiltfree/quizzes/What%20Type%20of%20Homeschooler%20Are%20You?/

This is me:


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


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


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


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

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

I gotta sleep.

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

I need sleep.

The Communion of Saints

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Debate this!

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

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

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

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

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

Raised Gnostic

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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


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


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


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Francis Schaeffer and the Love of Culture

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Anybody know an iconographer who wants an Anglican apprentice?

On Meaning and Naive Art

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

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

However.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

So, why this nagging feeling of fear and depression lately? Life is better than it's been in a long time, and I recognize that. I think it's fear of leaving what I love. Soon I'll have to go out and make my way in the world. That's not the part that scares me. What scares me is that I'll end up in a job I hate, with not enough motivation left to get through the week. I'm not afraid of long hours, or hard work, just...meaningless work. What do I want to do? I'm not sure: help kids who are like I was, confused artists who are misfits in the art world and in the intelligensia. Ideally I'd love to come back and teach in the program I'm in now, but I don't know if it's possible. But I'd do nearly anything to make it so.

I just don't want to get buried in paperpushing or retail or something. I'm fine with being a no-name; in fact, I prefer it. I want to die to "nourish the life of significant soil," to work behind the scenes helping others become great. That sounds wonderful to me...

I just don't want to be alone AND purposeless. I don't mind being alone if I have a purpose, and I wouldn't really mind not having a purpose if I wasn't alone...

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

The Dark Wood of Pre-Adulthood

Ah, how I do I begin? First, I suppose, an explanation of the above title. The Dark Wood, of course, is Dante's image (which the mod of this blog has been thinking about lately, and so brought it to my attention again): it is a symbol of fear, the fear that paralyzes. By "pre-adulthood," I do not mean immaturity, or adolescence. I mean a certain relationship to a community. This will become clearer later.

I am about to graduate from the Torrey Honors Institute. This is a great honor, an astounding opportunity...And I don't want it. This is not to say that I don't like Torrey; I do, and that is the problem. I don't want to leave. Granted, I have one year of college left during which I can at least pretend to be Torrey and hang out with my younger Torrey friends. But after that? I do not want to leave.

It is only in the past year, and even the past few months of this year, that I have come to love this community. I always liked it, but always kept myself a bit separate, not wanting to be vulnerable. But this year the separateness was ended, and I found myself in love (in the truest sense) with this community. So how do I leave?

It would seem that I have three options: 1. To leave, 2. Not to leave, or 3. To move into a different relationship with the program.

The first option is out for me. I cannot just cut my ties and go. It nearly broke my heart to sit through my last examination.

The second option, on the surface, is more attractive. I'll be living in the same area anyway, why not just stay around the program? Because that would be childish. I want to move beyond my college years in my soul as I move beyond them in chronology. I do not want to remain "one of the kids" forever.

This is what I meant by "pre-adulthood." I am not yet in an adult relationship with this program, and won't be until I am set free from it at commencement next week. I dread this setting free, and in many ways do not want it to happen. This is why I feel myself to be in a Dark Wood right now. I do not want to move forward, cannot move back, and will wither away if I stand still. I do not know where or how to go.

I don't know what an adult relationship with this program will look like. I've never loved a community like this before (except for my current church, but the love for them happened simultaneously as the love for Torrey), and certainly have never had to leave a community that I loved. I don't know how to say goodbye, because I am so afraid that it will be forever.

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

My new goal: to someday blog something that makes someone post a comment. Yeah.

Fashion is useless

One of the more recent projects in my art class was to design "wearable art;" in other words, fashion design. This inspired me, and I have begun wearing my own fashions around campus. I have several friends who do the same (though they tend to dress in the medieval style.)

Why do we bow and scrape to fashion? Even the "non-conformists" have their own fashion--just try going against the accepted non-conformity of any given art department!

What were clothes made to do? Clothes serve three purposes, as far as I can tell. First and foremost, protection from the elements. Secondly, clothes cover our bodies for the sake of modesty. Thirdly, clothes are an expression of the person and, to a certain extent, the culture from which he comes.

It seems that it is impossible for clothing now to be an expression of a person's culture; instant communication and worldwide advertising have homogenized culture to a large extent. In addition, the clothes a Southern Californian wears were most likely not designed by a Southern Californian in Southern California. These clothes are simply being designed, not designed for(and let's not even talk about clothes that advertise: as if the human body were meant to be a walking billboard!).

So I say, down with fashion! It's useless and always changing. Why should I buy a new wardrobe every year, simply because my current colors and styles are no longer in fashion? Anything can be made into clothing. 3 of my favorite outfits are made of curtains, and they look lovely. Most importantly, they are unique. They protect, cover, and express. When I create my own fashion, I tend to not worry so much about how I look. I look different, and I know that, and know that there is then no need to compare my clothes to others' clothing.

Why people at my church rock:

Adam: "We should keep up this Wednesday night meeting."

Father David: 'Yeah, we could be the Inklings! And hey, you guys are off contract over the summer, right?'

Adam: "Yeah! Hey! We could be the Drinklings!"

Father David: "I can see it now. Priest lets Biola people have a drink. That'd raise an outcry!....Let's do it."

*sigh* Naturally, it really only works when you know Father David and know the funny look he gets when he says silly stuff like that. Oh well. Trust me, it was funny.

I have been having significant problems with my eyes this week: they are highly sensitive to light, and I am wearing dark glasses, even indoors. So, naturally, I've been thinking a lot about light lately, both what we know as physical light, and what you might call metaphysical light.

We are not well-suited to seeing light. The sun is 98 million miles away, and it still blinds us. One small eye infection renders us incapable of living in any kind of light. Dante had to go through both Hell and Purgatory before being able to properly see the light.

Why can't we see the light, even though it's all around us? We are obviously made to see it, but somehow we cannot; at least, not without much effort and training.

Artists study light for years before they can accurately represent objects illuminated by it. Philosophers work at their studies for long hours, trying to argue through to the light of truth. Students spend months searching for it in their texts, and occasionally finding the divine insight that they seek.

And, for some reason, this leads me to think of Moses, asking to see the glory of God. He wanted God, he earnestly desired to see the light. God passed in front of him, only allowing Moses to catch a glimpse of the back of His glory. Even that little glimpse so illuminated Moses that when he came down from the mountain, carrying the commandments, his face shone so that none could bear to look on him.

What did Moses see? What would the back of the glory of God look like?

I wonder if the light Moses saw was the Star, shining over a small stable, announcing that God walked among us.


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Demons and Angels


I think that many of the people around me do not take the idea of angels and demons seriously. Oh, they believe they exist alright, but I don't think they attribute much to them. The purpose of demons is to fight angels, and the purpose of angels is to fight demons, and so forth.

But this view is a bit ridiculous. The spirit world affects us ALL THE TIME. Human beings are, in a sense, amphibious: we are indubitably physical, yet our souls instruct every move of our bodies. I think "I will raise my arm," and my arm raises(which raises the intriguing question of how my thoughts move from the realm of thought to the physical world). My spirit affects my body. So why can't another spirit affect it? Spirits are not coporeal, and more than one can occupy one physical space.

I have felt demons around me before, and have (more than I should) opened myself up to spirits.

It is a strange world: it is often too much for us humans, yet we live in it anyway. We walk every day in the spirit world, and we forget it at our peril. The two worlds are not even truly two worlds, but two parts of one world. Everything I do, every action I take, affects my spirit, and the spirit of those around me.

This is the true power of sin, and the true power of habituation and the spiritual disciplines. We often think that a spiritual sin (pride, judgement, etc) affects only our souls, and that a physical sin (premarital sex, murder, etc) affects only our body. But these two cannot, and must not, be seperated. This is why the spiritual discplines of fasting, silence, etc, are still important. These physical actions also act in the spirit. I must train not only my body to be in submission to my soul, but must also train my soul to be in tune with God, so that it may correctly guide my body. It is all one.

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

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Thoughts about music:

I like music, a lot. I like listening to the radio, provided that it's song I know (though if lyrics or a really good guitar riff catch my ear, I might not switch the station instantly). But I've been thinking lately: should I stop listening to some music?

I was listening to the radio the other day, and "Toxic," by Brittney Spears, came on. I think some of the music in the song is pretty cool, though the words are deplorable. But here's the rub: the song is about seduction, and the music started to get me a bit heated up.

This is not good. Now, I'm not prone to listening to that particular song most of the time anyway. But it's not just the one song. Music affects me, affects me a great deal. And if music makes me act or think in ways I shouldn't...then I should stop listening to it.

Songs that are in doubt:

Toxic--see above

Bring Me To Life: I love Evanesence. I think they're a great new sound. But this song makes me angsty when I shouldn't be. I'm prone to my own angst, and don't need to be taking on more. Should I stop listening to this great song?

My Immortal: also by Evanesence. I don't think I should stop listening to this one, because it's a truly great song. But...I should start being careful with it. I tend to use it to mourn things that I have given up, things that I gave up for good reasons. As long as I'm careful, I think this one will be ok.

Are You Gonna Be My Girl?: Honestly, this song just makes me drive a bit wild. That stinkin' awesome guitar.....

This Love: I used to hate this song. Now I love it, I think it's highly original in sound. But some of the lyrics are pretty racy. But, they don't make me feel seductive or seduced....This one's a tough one.

Simple Plan: Their music in general. It's fun. It's junior high, but it's fun. But should I really be listening to whiny music? I dunno....Especially the songs about fighting with your parents and not being able to wait till you leave the house....I like my parents, and we get along really well. But these songs are so much fun....I don't want to engender those kinds of emotions.

All I Wanna Do: I like this song. I like "SoCal" type songs that mention places I know ("until the sun comes up over Santa Monica Boulevard"). But...I dunno, not a great message with this song. It's probably fine, but I'll have to be careful.

Big Yellow Taxi: I love this song. Absolutely, 100%, love this song. Great melody. Terribly dated lyrics in spots, but hey. The chorus makes up for all. People will probably always be singing that chorus. Problem: It's a bunch of BS. I simply don't agree with it, but it's fun to sing and *pretend* to agree with it. Verdict?

Ok, enough of those. Now for the really awesome songs on the radio right now(granted, I listen to an odd mix of radio stations. KRTH 101.1 tops the list though):

Can't Stop Loving You--Phill Collins. Great song. Really fun to sing.

Don't Know Why--Norah Jones. the woman has a gorgeous voice

Billy Joel: still the man

Simon and Garfunkel: enough said

Evanesence: My Immortal: yeah yeah, so this one made both lists. Get over it.

Come Clean: Hilary Duff another junior high style, but a good song

Michelle Branch: All You Wanted fun song

and, in my opinion, the best song on radio right now:

Sarah McLachlan: Fallen

The words to this are so good I have to post them here. Seriously, this song is amazing. Who talks about sin and repentance nowadays? This song dodges no responsibility for any wrongdoing, and admits that only heaven can "take my hand, there's nowhere left to turn."

Fallen, by Sarah McLachlan

Heaven bend to take my hand
And lead me through the fire
Be the long awaited answer
To a long and painful fight

Truth be told I've tried my best
But somewhere along the way
I got caught up in all there was to offer
And the cost was so much more than I could bear

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

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

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

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

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




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Thoughts on singleness:

At the moment, I am committed to being a single person. Maybe the right person will come along eventually; I won't deny that'd be nice. But I've wasted too much time rushing after every nice person to want to spend any more time on that. Enough is enough. Time to live.

So, some thoughts about this whole "single" thing:

1. Churches really need to rethink their adolescent "True Love Waits" thing. (Before I proceed with this, let me state: abstinence or monogamy are the only options. Any other way is trouble. ) Think about it: a large number of Christian kids, being instructed to wait for sex till marriage. Great! It's a great lesson. HOWEVER: think about the numbers. There are far more women in churches than men: Christians are expected to marry other Christians: where does that leave the girls who can't find Christian men? Today's Christian girls need to be told: Marriage is more than sex, and singleness is more than celibacy. Celibacy needs to be discussed as a valid lifestyle, not only for nuns or freaks. Lifelong singleness does not mean that a girl is not wanted or has never been loved, neither does it mean that she is afraid of love or sex. It just happens that way sometimes.

2. Singleness is not boring! Many in the conservative Evangelical church (my own background and heritage) would seem to think that marriage is the only way to be really happy; if someone is lonely or unhappy, they simply need to get married. The expectation is that everyone will marry. This is patently untrue. The divorce rate among this demographic group indicated that marriage does not solve all problems; many marriages end in divorce. The single does not have to worry about adapting his life to someone else's, nor about making the bed if she doesn't feel like it (I admit, I haven't made my bed in years; I still do not see the point of it if no-one else is going to see my bed!). The single is more free to travel, spend money, work longer hours, give time to volunteer work, etc. In fact, singleness can be a great opportunity to learn the old art of hospitality!

3. Singleness is not the golden road to happiness. Much of the surrounding culture is dedicated to telling people that singleness is the best lifestyle available. After all, you can live as you please, spend your money how you please, and you have no ties to anyone! The downside, of course, is that you have no-one to tell you what you may need to hear, no-one to help when finances get tough, and no ties to anyone. Singleness gets tough, especially on those long nights when all you want is someone to hold you and tell you that everything is alright. Singleness is not the path to happiness.

4. Reach out. Make friends, lots of them. Make friends, a small close circle that you can really count on. Make friends, at work, church, school, and in your neighborhood. Reach out.

5. Let others reach out to you. Many singles get so independant that they no longer know how to let others help them. Allow yourself to be helped; you like helping your friends: they probably enjoy helping you just as much.

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Why the cynicism?

A fascinating presentation was given in my art history class today. The assignment chosen was to compare and contrast a Baroque artist with a Rococo artist. This team had chosen Caravaggio to represent the Baroque period (I dearly love Baroque art) and, oddly enough, Thomas Kinkead to represent the Rococo. Kinkead actually does embody Rococo art fairly well, though his work may be considered a reference to or recapitulation of Rococo ideals rather then truly sharing them. After all, Kinkead is not about hedonistic pleasure-seeking, or the ideals of romantic love, as seen in Rococo art. But I digress. The class got into a lively discussion about whether or not Kinkead is, as he claims to be, a "counter-culture" artist. The case can be made (convincingly, I think) that Kinkead is indeed going against current art culture. He is not even speaking to the art world, as such, but to the consumer world(which is another issue entirely which I shall not address here.)

One member of my class insisted that his work was "boring" and asked no questions of the audience (a comment I might agree with.) She claimed that he was "making things appear valuable" which really weren't, and that was too idealistic. She then went on to insist that his work might be "good art" if he painted his houses with a bit of irony or sarcasm.

Why? Why must we have this sarcasm? Are people not tired of feeling like all artists are mocking them? Why do you think the common man does not go to contemporary art galleries? Because he wants someone who speaks his language, who will not take what he values and turn it into a farce. This is why the Getty is so enduringly popular; anyone with $5 for parking can go and see great art that is reasonably understandable to Everyman. Yet art people don't like the Getty; want to guess why? Enough is enough.

We do not need more sarcasm. (Granted, I don't think we need more Kinkead, either). We need a Rembrandt, a Caravaggio, an Artemisia, a Van Gogh; someone who will take common life and glorify it, instead of taking what is sacred and valuable and making it ironic.

Who will be the next artist to show us incarnation?

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So...today I've been thinking about symbols. My art class got into a debate, led by me and my partner, as to whether or not symbols have a place in art. I argued that the Reformation began a slow process of losing our visual vocabulary. It used to be that any person could see a painting, or stained glass window, or sculpture, and through an understanding of the symbols, understand what the artist was trying to say. In the iconoclasm of extreme branches of the Reformation, these symbols began to be wiped out. Today, great crowds of people can go to the Getty museum, and have to listen to an audioguide to understand even the most basic symbols. Some members of my class argued that when most people were illiterate, symbols were needed(this I will agree with), but now that most people can read, symbols are no longer needed.

Objections:

1. Just because symbols are no longer "needed" in the strict sense, this does is no way mean that symbols can be abandoned. Some of them were given us by God Himself, and we desert those symbols at our own peril.

2. Is today's society really literate? Watch any group of students researching for a project: which will they rather do, read academic works on their subject, or watch a video about it? We are highly visual, and in many ways less literate than we were a few centuries ago.

3. Apart from being needed, symbols are beautiful and powerful. Whoever said that a picture is worth a thousand words really knew what he was talking about. Which is more powerful, the story of Orpheus and Eurydice, or a book about how when we try to get something we want, the more we focus on it, the more it slips away from us? Would you rather read a book about the problem of evil and how good battles evil, or would you rather read Lord of the Rings? Which will stick with you longer?

Symbols are necessary, beautiful, and, above all, immensely powerful. We give them up to our own impovershment. I grieve that artists no longer care to use them.

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Q. Why then do we live apart from God and out of harmony with creation?

Aha! The Holy Grail of questioning, since the beginning of time! Why do we suffer? And, perhaps less often addressed, why do we make other people suffer?

Actually, there's enough talk out there about why we suffer, and most of it is better than what little I can say. But I am now intrigued by my own question: Why do we, who claim to hate suffering so much, make others suffer?

We could deny that we do, but a question or two to our acquaintances and families would soon set that fib straight. We make others suffer, often.

Why? Why can we not just stop causing pain to others, and live in peace? Sure, there would still be really evil people, who enjoy making others suffer, but much of the little, petty, daily suffering would cease.

The problem, of course, is that we all enjoy making others suffer (or at least prefer our own comfort over theirs). Someone wrongs you quite spitefully, what is your first response? Is it how to get them back? How to make them hurt?

Let's say that I and a coworker are both up for promotions: he has a family to feed, and things are tight, and I am a single living comfortably. But I really want that car I've been saving up for, and so I hint things about my coworker that hurt his chances for promotion. Or maybe I simply start working more overtime, something a family man cannot really do (without sacrificing his family in the process), and by my hard-working devotion to my job, get the promotion? Have I made my coworker suffer? Have I made his family suffer?

Why is there suffering? Because we either enjoy causing it, or do not care about causing it, if it suits our ends. We insist that the world revolves around us. G.K. Chesterton once wrote a response to the question "What's wrong with the world?", which perfectly sums up this problem. Chesterton's answer? "I am."


A. From the beginning, human beings have misused their freedom and made wrong choices.


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Easter is a time of resurrection. A few weeks ago, I had to go through a kind of death: I had to let myself be helped (something I try to avoid at all costs). A few years ago, I had to submit myself to another death, and commit myself to a church, in spite of much hurt I'd suffered from churches in the past. This week, both deaths were redeemed in a resurrection.

I am still unsure of exactly what this resurrection means, only that a part of me that was dead is now alive, and alive in a different way than it was before.

That in me which used to deny needing help, did indeed die, and was mortified. It is not alive, though still weak, as a desire to allow others to help me. After all, I like helping my friends and am honored to be asked to do so: can I dare to assume that my friends feel any differently? Do I have the audacity to assume that they don't love me enough to want to help? God forbid!

That in me which did not want to be tied to a church for fear of being hurt again, was forced to die, to be committed to a church. This week, it was raised up, and made new. My heart has lain fallow for a year; the field has been barren and choked with weeds. But now the green blade riseth, and the wheat springeth green.

I feel as though someone has torn a veil away from the sky, and I can look out upon Deep Heaven again(though it is more likely that scales have fallen from my own eyes!). I feel as though the sun is shining in my heart, which had been dark and cold for far too long. I have been shown the love of God; I see it (and Him) in those around me. I know that nothing, demons nor angels, powers nor principalities, bad churches or good, friends or enemies, can keep me from the love of God. He loves me for His own purposes, and nothing I do will cause that love to cease.

He is Risen
He is Risen indeed


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Lent is over. I keep seeing chocolate around and thinking, "Ooh, I can't have that, " and then remembering with a burst of happiness that it is Easter, and I am now allowed to feast.

Christ rises, and with Him come all good things. He rises from the depths of the grave, and light, life, and all manner of good things rise with Him. Without Him, there is nothing. With Him, there is everything.

He is risen! He is risen indeed!



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More posts from the weekend:

I have gone against my rebellious artistic training, and done something outrageous, something I never thought possible: I have become a sheep.

For the first time, I am beginning to see what it means to have a pastor, a shepherd. For most of my life, I have not done well in churches; I just never seemed to fit. I don't fit in at my current church, in one sense, because there is no "fit". There is, in one sense, nothing to be done in order to fit. Each parishoner is loved for himself. This love has no basis in how much (or little) he sins, or tithes, or participates. He is loved, because God loves him.

I never thought I would trust another human being to guide my religious thought. After all, I am a free, rational being. The Holy Spirit will guide me into all knowledge, right? But I have found that not only can I allow myself to be guided, but I must. If I myself am the final word on my faith, then it is no bigger than I am. If I trusted only in myself to shape my soul, I would believe only in myself (in the Chestertonian sense). So I listen to my eartly shepherd, and to shepherds who came before, all of whom reflect my Heavenly Shepherd, and submit myself to the guiding of the Shepherd's staff. And He leadeth me by still waters.

Baaaaaaaaaaah!


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I was gone all weekend, so here's two or three days' worth of blogging, all in one day!

-----------------------------
April 10th

How do you thank someone for being what they're supposed to be? How do I thank my priest for being what he's supposed to be: a pastor, a shepherd of his flock? I can't, and shouldn't, work to try to pay him back, but what can I do?

I can work to become what I am supposed to be. I cannot pay anyone back out of a sense of debt. I must "pay it forward," out of gratitude.
---------------------------
April 11th

Have you ever had an experience that was so potent as to be mythic, as ordinary as it might have seemed at the time?

Today I attended a sunrise service at my church. It was my job to run up to the sacristy and turn on all the lights as the priest proclaimed "He is risen!" I was all set to do it...and the door was locked. I had to run outside (still holding a lit candle from the procession), and around to the church office. Just as I opened the office door, my candle went out. I couldn't find the light switch, so I stumbled through the office in the darkness. I could see almost nothing, but in front of me, I could hear the church singing. (To finish up the story, I did get the lights turned on, and my priest thought it was hilarious.)

But it struck me that the moment in the darkness of the office is an icon of life. It is dark here, and we cannot see very much. But always ahead, the Church is singing. The dawn is coming. The light is coming.

And the Church sings to guide us home.
------

Today I shared a meal with a group of good Christian people, and noticed that the final word on anything was whether or not it was "Christian." The final word on The Passion was that it was "Catholic," and so not entirely what it should have been. Lunch was not complete without "The Story of the Jellybeans," a children's evangelistic presentation, associating different aspects of the Gospel message with different colors of jellybeans (with almost complete disregard for historical significance of the colors, I might add).

Two thoughts came of this:

1. Has Evangelicalism failed? Can we now do nothing but repeat the lessons of childhood to each other? Where is the meat? The theology? The doctrine? The history? Has Evangelicalism traded what it strong and lasting for what is easy?

2. Where is the dialogue with other traditions of Christianity? Will Evangelicals always shy away from Catholics? Will Catholics continue to fear persecution from Protestants? We do not all agree; but if this is so, why do we not talk? Why have we abandoned the practice of having councils?

Lord Jesus, forgive us. We have broken Your Body, and have been broken in the process. Heal us.

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