Finding Words

Reading to find words. Find the words of the expressed thoughts of someone else, find words that I can share to express my thoughts in a moment. 

 These words from 'My Antonia' by Willa Cather expressed what I thought I might be trying to feel one morning at chore time - winter coming in and the tree standing in the field, alone and true. "In the morning, when I was fighting my way to school against the wind, I couldn't see anything but the road in front of me; but in the late afternoon, when I was coming home, the town looked bleak and desolate to me. The pale, cold light of the winter sunset did not beautify -- it was like the light of truth itself. When the smoky clouds hung low in t he west and the red sun went down behind them, leaving a pink flush on the snowy roofs and the blue drifts, then the wind sprang up afresh, with a kind of bitter song, as if it said: 'This is reality, whether you like it or not. All those frivolities of summer, the light and shadow, the living mask of green that trembled over everything, they were lies, and this is what was underneath. This is the truth.' It was as if we were being punished for the loveliness of summer."

Days passed and I began to feel that I disagreed with the notion of 'the frivolity of summer'. The tree trunk was there underneath, providing strength and form and function, but I refuse to say that it is more 'true'. Summer is true, even if just for a (short) season. The seasons of my life are true, even if short. The green times, the lively times. They are all hung on the truth of me, us. I cannot even say that I am certain to the extent that I understand the true form of being human. It would seem that much of human reality is hung in and amongst and between the leaves. The dentridic branches of the brain's neural networkds reaching to support and form and give life to the mind of me.

Sutter's Cross

I generally try not to be a 'gushy' type of person. I would prefer the word 'enthusiastic' to 'gushing'. Neither word quite describes how I feel about this book. There are love stories that when you read them you find your own story in print. This story embodies my relationship with God and His desire for relationship with all people. Cramer captures the beauty of our world, our language, our relationships with each other. He depicts the prose of lives lived in faith and grace while he paints word pictures on every page.
One main theme of the book is that we are 'the arms of God'. This is an honor, privilege, and, at times, cause for some concern. I had always thought of the arms of God in the sense of embracing or hugs and smiles. But they are so much more than that - they also provide protection, security, guidance. In lives lived in community the arms of God provide all of these things simultaneously.
Some books leave me inspired to write and attempt to say similar sentiments - to expound upon, extrapolate the deeper meanings.
With Sutter's Cross I can only say - Please read it. The deeper meanings need not be extrapolated, they may be savored through each chapter. Participating in Sutter's Cross is an act of worship - the admiration of God's love for His people, His transcending design for our lives, His marvelous creation, and supreme Love.

Thank you to my mom for suggesting I try reading W. Dale Cramer's books.

Grand Weaver

I 'needed' to make my Amazon purchase $25 so that I could get free shipping - I stumbled across Ravi Zacharias' new book, 'The Grand Weaver' and wondered at the orchestration of it all. I have recently gone through the first interview with AIM for a short-term mission position this summer. Amongst the questions were several which touched on God's use of the bad things that have happened in my life. I haven't doubted that the pain in my past has been and will be used for 'good' in God's grand scheme of things. What I have doubted was God's planning in the process when I made decisions that were dreadfully wrong and contrary to anything He could possibly have willed for my life - am I to believe that He 'planned' that as well. I know that he knew those would be the choices that I would make, but I cannot fathom that He would will them. I'm reading this book with these questions in mind. If my mistakes were God's plan I do not understand my own free will at all. If we have the free will to reject Christ I would think that we also have the free will to periodically actually botch things up. It is God's plan and goodness that bring good from our botches and in that He is more good and powerful than we are - but we still have the 'right' to screw up.
The hard times in my life have been more than growing pains or the bumps and bruises associated with learning to stand and walk alone - they were heart and soul damaging and it ultimately was only God that could heal me. Does God plan for us to hurt (ourselves) so deeply that He knows that He is only one who will be able to heal us? I suppose it was the same love that turned from Christ on the cross, knowing that the good would far exceed the suffering. But how different this God is than the God of the Old Testament - the blood shed; the broken, bitter relationships; the impersonal nature of a tribal God.
Perhaps it is not a plan of God for us to hurt ourselves, perhaps it is that in walking away from Him - the damage is inevitable. This is known with the fact that there is no guarantee of a pain-free life in the shadow of Him either - there is only a guarantee that He is still there and He loves and desires for us to be molded and formed into the masterpiece that He ultimately planned for us to be.

afghan numbers

I just finished reading A Thousand Splendid Suns by Khaled Hosseini. The only sense I can make of the political situation in Afghanistan is that it most often doesn't make sense. Hosseini makes it clear that it doesn't make sense to the people there either. The Taliban were, for a season, a relief from the fighting between warlords. The women have no rights under the Taliban, but it may be better than not being able to go anywhere for fear of being hit by a rocket.
The two main characters in this book sit one evening and drink three cups of tea. Hosseini said nothing of the significance of three cups specifically, but I remembered lines from Mortenson's book regarding the significance of sharing three cups. I had to go back and search the book, but sharing three cups of tea is to become family. In Mortenson's book it is the third time you share a cup of tea, in Hosseini's the women sat into the evening and drank three cups of tea. Either way, it is time shared. Not just time, but relaxed, significant time.
My time with my tea cup (rather large mug really) is my time. It is my time away from whatever stress is in front of me. It is my time with my book. It is my hourglass for the amount of time I have left. Three cups of tea would be similar to my reheating my tea rather than gulping the last six ounces. I am so often pleased to find time remaining in my tea cup when I had momentarily wondered away from my book and then forgotten that I still had time. (I am more than a bit distractable.)
At the most surface level, the freedom to sit and drink three cups of tea - undisturbed by the war or children, or in this book, the shared husband, would be in-and-of-itself a gift.

judging a book

There was a time in my life that I thought that I would far prefer the gift of a book than, say, flowers. It was my idea that roses and posies would wilt, die, and fade and that a book and its contents would endure forever. Now, nearly buried in my hoarded books, I am rethinking this notion of enduring forever.




I have books whose contents ought never to have endured the publishing process, let alone my dragging them about the country with me.

So now, in my years wizened by experience and back-breaking book-hauling, I have reconsidered the gift of flowers and the blessed release of returning their components to the circle of life when their spent blooms adorn the top of the compost pile. My first days of class this week, my desk was made beautiful by the bouquet gifts of administration and one student, encouraged and enabled by his thoughtful mother.

This being said, my mailwoman is not aware of my decreased interest in hoarding books. - ah' thanks be to Amazon. (http://www.amazon.com)

lizard keepers

"Garnett wanted to tell her a thing or two about God's plan. That the creatures of this earth came to pass and sometimes passed on. That these matters were not ours to control if we were, as she claimed, merely one species among our brethren, the animals. And if we were not the equal of animals, if we were meant instead to be masters and keepers of Eden, as the Bible said, then "lizards" (salamanders) were put here for man to go bass fishing with, and that was that. She couldn't have it both ways. It was all quite clear to Garnett. Yet his logic always cowered before her curt and snappy replies." ~ Prodigal Summer, pg.138,139

I hadn't understood the philosophy of what being master of the animals could mean. I didn't know that it could mean that utilizing may rightly mean 'unto extinction', or for no apparent purpose other than to be be utilized or killed. I had thought inherent in this command and charge was the notion of 'stewardship' and preservation.
It is always good to be stretched a little and come up against new ideas, or more of an understanding with existing practices.

Mansfield Park

finally done - didn't help that I read a couple of Harry Potters in between chapters. There are times that I have found that reading 'romances' - or books that the main story line is who's going to get hitched to who - can be frustrating for an aging spinster. (by Jane Austen's time's standards) This was not the case for Mansfield Park because no matter how socially and culturally and historically acceptable it was at the time, I can't be jealous of the syrupy sweet heroine who gets to marry her cousin. I respect the fact that she has a good head on her shoulders, but if I could ever find myself in the same position, I would hope that my disposition would not be so persecuted regarding the whole state of affairs.
Missing some of the language, of course, I like the movie as well as the book - Fanny's got some noticeable spunk -
but she still marries her cousin.

HP & the Deathly Hallows

no longer a children's book.

Rowling managed to complete the series having her cake and eating it too. (or eating her cake and having it too.)
I was surprised on the ultimate stand that Rowling took on evil and the nature of her bad guy. I was surprised at the choices that Harry made and their consequences.
Surprise is a good element to maintain for 7 books.

The book is violent. The opening scene was nauseating and disturbing, but it was supposed to be - evil is disturbing. Deathly Hallows is quite deathly. I had heard prior to reading the book that two characters would die. I don't know which of the 8(?) characters who were killed counted as the 2 - but certainly emotional.

I will not pretend that the book teaches Christian values or is a Christian book - I think Rowling has made it quite clear that it is not. (or where Christian truths are evident, she did not intend for them to be.)
However, reading the book will not grease the slippery slope.

Is an ability to see the good in art that has been questioned a 'good' thing, or a blindness to the 'dangers' being questioned? There are times that, much to my chagrin, I do wonder - what would Jesus do? I wonder if Jesus would be able to have any opinions or preferences about anything. I saw a West Wing episode in which the president couldn't say that he didn't like green beans without the green bean farmers getting mad at him - could Christ say that he doesn't like Pepsi without cults rising up and refusing caffeine? Could Christ say that he does like fantastical fiction without raising the eyebrows of concerned friends and neighbors?
As little as I can figure, He would probably have little to do with cliches and pat answers, but He may not have had time for Harry Potter either.