Poetry and time and stairs

Poetry is best read while climbing stairs.

I work on the ninth floor of a fifteen-floor building. On the days that I arrive a few minutes early, I take the stairs. I start on the first floor, walking through the elevator lobby and turning right at the security desk.  I open the door next to the letter drop, step inside the stairwell, adjust my lunch bag and Nalgene in my left hand, and dig out my poetry book with my right.  I read two or three poems as I climb up to the twelfth floor, cross the elevator lobby, and walk back down to the ninth floor, where I emerge right next to our office door.

Currently I am reading Aimless Love: New and Selected Poetry by Billy Collins.

Why am I reading this particular collection?  Well, a few months ago I visited a nearby library (versus the library right across the street :D ), and I saw this book of poetry sitting on a shelf.  I remembered something our Sunday School leader and church elder, Brian, had said a few months before, something about Billy Collins being his favorite poet.  I opened the book at random and read the poem "Hangover," which is hilarious.  I promptly added Aimless Love to my stack.  I read many of the poems at home, one right after another, but I was pretty sure that poetry is better spread out over time.  I took the book to work and tried it out as my stair-climbing read.

Fast forward a few months, and I was once again taking the stairs to my office, reading the poem "Quandary."


Quandary

I was a little disappointed
in the apple I lifted from a bowl of fruit
and bit into on the way out the door,
fuzzy on the inside and lacking the snap of the ripe.

Yesterday it was probably perfect,
I figured, as I held it out before me,
soft red apple bearing my tooth marks,
as if I were contemplating the bust of Aristotle.

I considered all the people
who would be grateful to have this apple,
and others who might find it in their hearts
to kill me before slipping it into a pocket.

And I considered another slice
of the world's population, too,
those who are shielded from anything
as offensive as a slightly imperfect apple.

Then I took a second bite, a big one,
and pitched what was left
over the tall hedges hoping to hit on the head
a murderer or one of the filthy rich out for a stroll.

-Billy Collins


Later that day, I ate a fuzzy apple.  Haha!  When Amos got home, I read him "Quandary."  (He had eaten the other half of the fuzzy apple at lunchtime.)


Why do I read poetry while walking up stairs?  For one, it helps me to keep going.  Climbing twelve floors is not easy, and sometimes I want to give up.  The poems keep me focused on the word pictures he is painting, rather than on my legs that want to ditch the stairs and take the elevator at the sixth floor ("Come on, some exercise is better than none!  Maybe the elevator would be good today...").  For another, I am easily distracted these days (stupid social media).  Billy Collins' poems are all short stories, usually with a surprise or a twist in the last few lines; I can easily visualize the short scenes of his poems.  Also, I just love words.

In discovering this combination of poetry, limited time, and stairs, I feel like I have discovered a secret.  I am almost done with Aimless Love, and I wonder what poetry I will find next...

Last day

It is the last day of the first month of 2016.

Yesterday Amos and I finished our fifth books for the year.  Here is a quote from my book, An Ordinary Woman's Extraordinary Faith: The Autobiography of Patricia St. John:

And I have come to believe that "wholly sanctified" means clean and obedient at that point where God has shined his light.  We have a merciful God, and he does not shine his noonday sun in the morning.  If he showed us once for all the unguessed depths of pride and selfishness in our natures, most of us would despair and give up.  Little by little, life reveals, and the gentle challenge comes over and over again, "Wilt thou be made clean?" and on each occasion that we answer, 'Yes, at any cost!" he accepts us and comes to sanctify us and works through us.

Not much to say...

so I'll let a few authors speak for me.

"Oliver slept late and no one woke him as it was Sunday.  He came down at nine fifteen, hungry as a wolf, and indulged in a waffle orgy.  Randy sat beside him to keep him company, though she herself was waffle-logged by that time."

Elizabeth Enright, Spiderweb for Two: A Melendy Maze

"'If there was only one tree like that in the world, you would think it was beautiful,' said Katie. 'But because there are so many, you just can't see how beautiful it really is.'"

Betty Smith, A Tree Grows in Brooklyn

"'...and I thought, as I often have, how many people a person is!  A human being is more many-sided than a prism; he has sides he shows the world, sides he only shows to special others, sides he doesn't know he shows to others, sides he doesn't even guess he has.  No, nobody is simple, no matter how he'd like to be.'"

Elizabeth Enright, "Morgan's Rest"

"She knew the general principles of life - that compromise wins respect from no one, but a straightforward testimony does."

Isobel Kuhn, By Searching

"People would say, 'If you had enough faith, your daughter would be healed.' That had the opposite effect of what they intended.  Instead of looking to God, it put our eyes on ourselves, trying to drum up faith."

Marti Smith, Through Her Eyes: Perspectives on Life from 

Christian Women Serving in the Muslim World, 

Sick sheep

"...men, when they are in love, invariably manage to look like a somewhat sick sheep.  If a girl is attracted to such a man she feels flattered by this appearance, and does not hold it against him; if she has no interest she dismisses him from her mind."

"I was puzzled...wondering what was the matter with him...I should have known by now that when a man looks like a sick sheep, completely bemused, stupid and unable to listen to what you say to him, he has, vulgarly, got it badly."

::Agatha Christie, An Autobiography

I just finished Agatha Christie's autobiography, and I thought it was great!  She was a very interesting person and a good storyteller, even in her autobiography.  There is a lot of controversy surrounding her, I'm discovering, but this is an engaging account of her life from her own perspective.

In Class

Student: Try not to smell. I'm sorry mumblemumblemumble.
Me: What?
Student: Try not to smell.  Someone puked, and a little bit got on my backpack.  I'm really sorry.  Try not to smell.

Science teacher: You guys get to go home at 1:00.  I have to stay for two more hours.  It's not fun.  I have to go to meetings.
Student: That doesn't sound that bad.
Science teacher: The meetings are boring.  How would you feel if you had to sit somewhere for two hours and you didn't want to?
Other student: I do it all the time.  It's called SCHOOL.

After math class...
Teacher: Lexi, will you switch seats so John can see?
Lexi: Maybe.  Where does David sit?
-I show her David's seat, right next to her future seat-
Lexi: I don't know.  David always stares at me in class and keeps saying, "'sup?!"

Found on page 124

This is an important thing, which I have told many people, and which my father told me, and which his father told him.  When you encounter another person, when you have dealings with anyone at all, it is as if a question is being put to you.  So you must think, What is the Lord asking of me in this moment, in this situation?  If you confront insult or antagonism, your first impulse will be to respond in kind.  But if you think, as it were, This is an emissary sent from the Lord, and some benefit is intended for me, first of all the occasion to demonstrate my faithfulness, the chance to show that I do in some small degree participate in the grace that saved me, you are free to act otherwise than as circumstances would seem to dictate.  You are free to act by your own lights.  You are freed at the same time of the impulse to hate or resent that person.  He would probably laugh at the thought that the Lord sent him to you for your benefit (and his), but that is the perfection of the disguise, his own ignorance of it.

:: Gilead, Marilynne Robinson

God's Smuggler

I've been collecting missions and missionary book titles, and several people have mentioned God's Smuggler as a good one for my list.  God's Smuggler by Brother Andrew and John and Elizabeth Sherrill is a fairly popular book in the Christian world, but I'd never read it.  I figured I would get around to reading it eventually.  Then I saw that it's the free audiobook for February from christianaudio.com!  I've tried audiobooks before but wasn't completely sold on the idea (I like the act of actually reading, plus I can get distracted from the story if I try to do too many things at once).  However, when something free crosses my path, I at least slow down to check it out. ;)  I created an account on christianaudio, downloaded the book to my bright green iPod (a friend gave me one that she no longer uses!), and started listening to the story of a lost young Dutchman who found God and caught a vision of smuggling forbidden Bibles behind the Iron Curtain.  I've been listening to the book while I do the dishes or put things away or work on little projects that don't require much thought.  I'm now about twenty-five minutes from the end! :(  After this experience, I can't wait to see what March's free audiobook will be!

One of my favorite ideas from the book, repeated several times, goes something like this, an exchange between Brother Andrew and his wife Corrie:
Brother Andrew: We don't know where we're going...
Corrie: ...let's go there together.
It sounds like Amos and I! :)

Another idea went something like this:
Indifference to the church is more dangerous than persecution.

You only have sixteen more days to download this book!  When you download it, it is yours to keep; it doesn't expire.  I hope you like God's Smuggler as much as I do! :)  After you've listened to this book, consider reading Secret Believers and Light Force to find out about Brother Andrew's work in the Middle East.

Despereaux

For the past three years, I've kept a list of the books I've read over that year.  My third and newest list is nearing completion!  So far in 2012 I've read forty-four books, mostly children's books; I'm not sure if I will be able to squeeze a forty-fifth book in or not!  (Even if I am able to, the forty-fifth will definitely not be Les Miserables, haha!)

In November I subbed for a friend at one of the local junior high schools.  The students were taking tests all day, so I picked up a book that I heard about but never read, The Tale of Despereaux by Kate DiCamillo, a Newbery Medal winner.  The main character is a tiny, noble mouse named Despereaux who is very different from his family.  He meets the human princess who lives in the castle and talks to her and even lets her pet his soft, huge ears.  This is a capital offense, so Despereaux is sent to the dungeon where he meets other characters, both good and bad.  Despereaux escapes and attempts to save the princess, his brave little heart enduring many setbacks.  DiCamillo's writing style bothered me at points, but the story she told made up for the weird references to the reader. ("Reader, do you know what this means?  Maybe you should look it up in the dictionary to make sure!" "Reader, has this ever happened to you?" "Reader" "Reader" "Reader" you get the point...)  I read while students were taking tests, during my free period, and through lunch.  At one point a little seventh grader asked if he could have the book; apparently he had been reading it on an other day and wanted it back!  He put it under his desk to read after his test; I thought about asking for it back, but resisted. ;)  

Anyway, Despereaux didn't take long to read.  I usually wait about ten minutes after the last bell rings before I try to leave a school; traffic can be crazy, especially with the junior highs, a few of which are situated in neighborhoods with poor traffic flow.  I was sitting at the teacher's desk, trying to take in the flow of words as fast as possible, when I realized that I couldn't do it: I had to leave the book behind.

Nooooooooo!!!

I drove across town, went to a few grocery stores, went to church for our bulletins, picked up Amos from work, and resisted the urge to stop at the library to read the last thirty pages of the book.  We got home, and I set off right away for the library around the corner, determined to find Despereaux before the library closed.  No luck.  There were several copies at the two libraries across town, but none at ours!

Nooooooooo!!!

The next day Amos was going to a men's dinner at church, and I was going to a ladies' dinner at a friend's house.  I left Amos to be picked up by one of our elders, who lives around the corner, and headed off to the library across town.  I selected a nice copy of the book, checked it out, and headed to my friend's house.  I pulled into a parking lot across the street from her complex to finish the book, turning up about five minutes late for the dinner.  I sat in my car and finished the epic story about the brave mouse, the kind princess, some delicious soup, a mistreated girl, a good-and-bad rat, the ridiculous king, an unfair mouse council, the kind keeper of the dungeon, and a red tablecloth.  It was lovely.

"Mig, as you might have guessed, did not get to be a princess.

But her father, to atone for what he had done,

treated her like one for the rest of his days."

"Friendship"

I think my friend Heather has a point when she says one reason she deleted Facebook was because "...some things people post on Facebook rile me up unnecessarily and cause me to judge them in ways I shouldn't."  Well, something on Facebook irritated me enough to write a post about it, though I've thought about this  for quite some time.

Anyway, this person had a quote from Ayn Rand, libertarian and feminist extraordinaire, about friendship.  Or, "friendship," as I would call it.  If you know a bit about Ayn Rand (I read part of an article about her and her philosophy once), you know that she thought that living for self was the ultimate goal in life.  She believed in a society run with no commitments and no restrictions on personal liberty and the personal pursuit of happiness.  Here is her quote about "friendship."

"I shall choose friends among men, but neither slaves nor masters.  And I shall choose only such as please me, and them I shall love and respect, but neither command nor obey.  And we shall join our hands when we wish, or walk alone when we so desire."

"And I shall choose only such as please me, and them I shall love and respect..."  Is this true friendship?  I've seen quotes around the internet about "Choose only those friends who build you up and make you a better person.  If they take too much out of you, ditch 'em."  (I'm talking here about friends who drag you down emotionally and relationally simply by their personality or life choices, not people who are openly hostile and manipulative, who try to use you rather than truly befriend you.)  Well, if the world followed the philosophy of Ayn Rand and random internet quotes, I don't suppose I would be friends with quite a few people!  My parents chose to befriend my brothers and sisters and I as we were growing up, not because we would make my parents better people, but because they loved us, had a commitment to us, and wanted us to be better people.  My ARA in college chose to befriend me as an annoying freshman not because I would make her a better person, but because she cared about me.  My roommate Katharyn chose to befriend me not because I irritated her and tickled her and teased her and jumped out of closets at her, but because she cared about me.  When I came to care more about her than about myself, we got along a lot better.  Amos chose to befriend me and continues to befriend me even when I hurt him.  I told him one time, "I don't want you to have to love the ugly parts of me," to which he replied, "but that really isn't love, is it?"

One of my best friends is different from me in almost every way.  I told her once that the only thing we have in common is our blue eyes, haha!  There have been times when it would have been easier on me to withdraw myself, to cease to reach out to her, to give her the cold shoulder, to let her wander off and out of my life.  But I didn't.  Why?  Because I thought that that wasn't loving; because I thought that perhaps she needed a friend that didn't give up on her; because I thought maybe I could influence her for good, even if she didn't always listen to me.

Are these relationships just that, relationships, not friendships?  Why must friendships only benefit me?  Why not make friends to benefit others?  Why only seek out like-minded people to be friends with?  Why avoid the rough edges?  What is the difference between love and friendship?

Indifference, rejection, lack of commitment, self-interest.  Is this how we are to respond when a friend, who needs help, is costing us more than we want to pay?  That's not how God responded.  God looked at Israel and saw a pitiful, whiny, unfaithful people, and He loved them.  God saw Peter, His chosen Church founder, who denied him, who made mistakes, who was embarrassing, and He loved him.  God saw me, a selfish introvert who would rather not reach out to others, who would rather love her husband and no one else, who would rather not learn to be patient with people, and He loved me.  Can't I learn to love others, too, even more, to befriend others who often don't give me what I want, who don't always show love in return, who sometimes irritate me, who cause me stress, who misunderstand and misinterpret me on occasion?

Friendship - not just love, but friendship -  is an investment, even when you don't know if you'll get any worthwhile returns.  And that is worth much more than living for the friendship of self.

Young, Hugo, Lewis, and Adams

I like this song by Adam Young, aka Owl City, for the Disney movie Wreck It Ralph.  The music video is kind of weird/cheesy, but I like the song.

I love books.  I'm about 200 pages into Les Miserables by Victor Hugo, and I have 1,060ish pages to go!  I'm reading it for a few reasons.
1. A new theatrical version is coming out in a few weeks.
2. Several of my friends have seen a play version of the story and/or love the music.
3. The discipline of reading a long loooooooooooooong book is good for me as a reader and as a person.
4. I want to be able to say that I've read the unabridged version. ;)

I'm almost done with Surprised by Joy: The Shape of My Early Life by C.S. Lewis.  I like it a lot.  Here is one quote that really stuck out to me.

"What I like about experience is that it is such an honest thing.  You may take any number of wrong turnings; but keep your eyes open and you will not be allowed to go very far before the warning signs appear.  You may have deceived yourself, but experience is not trying to deceive you.  The universe rings true wherever you fairly test it."

This reminds me of a quote from one of my teacher ed professors.  Dr. Adams never married, even though she wanted to.  She is now set to retire this spring, and Master's will have a hard time replacing her.  She taught a few seminar and credential classes as well as the intense-but-fun class known as Children's Lit.  She has a hundreds of children's books in her office. *sigh*

One year Dr. Adams spoke in a women's chapel about...something?  I think it was about trusting God with your life; I'm not sure.  Though I can't remember the exact topic, I do remember one exact sentence.

"God isn't going to let you unknowingly ruin your life."

This is very encouraging, and I think it goes along with C.S. Lewis' quote.  God will not let me unknowingly ruin my life.  He is a loving God, so He will use circumstances, people, His Word, and my conscience to show me the right way to go.  Even when I am confused, God is on my side.  He won't let me accidentally ruin my future.

Hell in the sanctified imagination

*Disclaimer: I know that people don't like to think or talk about hell, and I'm not sure that I do, either.  However, I am a Christian and thus believe in a literal hell.  I don't believe in hell because I want revenge on anyone, and I certainly don't believe that I have any responsibility for who goes to hell (referring to the common question, "if I don't believe in Jesus, do you believe I will go to hell?"  Well, yes, but it's not MY condemnation, it's your own for not accepting Christ, and it's what the Bible says.  "Don't shoot the messenger.")

At one of our Thursday Bible study meetings, our Bible study leader asked us, "What do you think hell is like?"  A few people gave some answers, then Jeff asked Amos what he thought.  Here's a paraphrase of Amos' response.  It is not meant to be taken as biblical fact but rather as Amos' own view of what hell could be like.

"I don't think hell is like a nightmare, like many people think [dark, scary, monster-filled, etc.].  I think it is more like finally understanding that God is God, and being eaten up by that knowledge for eternity.  You finally understand and believe what God has done for you  on the cross, and you are eaten up by the fact that God loves you and doesn't want you in hell, but that His perfect justice will not allow Him to take you out of hell.  You live in eternity with the knowledge of both the truth and your rejection."

How sad!  How horrifying.

The Christian and the Homosexual

The Bible says that homosexuality is wrong (see Romans 1).  As Christians, we need to know how to respond to a culture that is increasingly accepting of homosexuality, even when there aren't that many actual homosexual individuals in the United States (this statistic was brought to my attention by Al Mohler in one of his Briefings).

One resource that I found very helpful was an interview conducted by Tim Challies and David Murray.  The interviewee was Rosaria Butterfield, an ex-lesbian who is now a conservative, Christian, homeschool-mom to four children adopted from the foster care system (yea!); talk about a one-eighty.  You would think that Rosaria would give the same pat answers and suggestions that you always hear, but I was surprised and challenged as I listened to her testimony and her words of advice.  She also is very eloquent, which I appreciate. :)  You can listen to the interview here.

Here's a quote from the interview that doesn't apply just to the problem of homosexuality; I found it very thought-provoking.

"True believers can be beaten down by sin faster and more furiously than sanctification can buoy them up."

What a call to be both on our toes and on our knees!

Plethora

My poor little blog seems to be forgotten quite regularly.  Oh dear.

Here's an interesting article by Al Mohler about the changing religious demographics of the United States.

Recent cooking adventures?  Oatmeal spice cake with honey-cream cheese frosting, pulled pork in the crock pot, and soon, hopefully, chicken spaghetti from Pioneer Woman (minus the overly-processed cream of whatever soups)!

I finished Atheism Remix by Al Mohler on Sunday, and am still in the middle of Mark Twain's European adventure, A Tramp Abroad.  I'm also reading The Magician's Book: A Skeptic's Adventures in Narnia by Laura Miller.  This book is very interesting, but I don't agree with a lot of what she says.  However, Miller does exhibit some good insight:

"The sort of experience that makes for a good story is seldom a comfy one. 
'Adventure,' then, is what might otherwise be called a hardship if it were attempted in a different spirit.  Turning a difficult task or a perilous journey into an adventure is largely a matter of telling yourself the right story about it...This is surely the oldest form of the many tasks that stories are called upon to perform." pg. 57

"[Lewis] firmly believe that sometimes war was necessary.  Religion explains the why -- sometimes we must be willing to sacrifice ourselves for a greater good -- but stories show us how.  Stories are what make heroes.  You can only become a hero by participating in a story, and stories bestow meaning on what might otherwise look like raw suffereing and waste." pg. 59

I've had two interviews in the last two days for three different positions, but I didn't get the first and if offered the second or third, I will decline them.  There are some things that specific students need that I am just not willing to help with.  I worked two days last week and am working five days this week, and with all the busyness of work and home and church and projects and cleaning and running errands and needing to fix the car, I can't help thinking that maybe I shouldn't try for a full-time job. :P  We shall see...

Quick trip

It's Wednesday!  It doesn't seem like Wednesday, but maybe that's because my Monday and Tuesday were taken up by flights and family visits.  I flew to NorCal on Monday morning (way too early) and flew back on Tuesday afternoon.  My mom had a coupon for a facial treatment that wouldn't work for her, so she gave it to me.  Even though I'm twenty-six, I still have acne that I'm trying to get rid of. :P

Here are some stories from the weekend...

Me: "Garret, do you want a cookie?  Amos made them.  They're peanut butter oatmeal with white and regular chocolate chips."
Garret: "No, I'm on a diet."
--I walk over with the open cookie bag--
Me: "Are you sure?  They're really good."
--Garret eyes the cookies--
Garret, wistfully: "Are they soft?"
Me: "Yep."
Garret: "Okay."


Me: "I wonder if Ethan and Andrew will be color blind." [Ross is color blind.]
Ross: "Audra is worried about losing her sense of smell."
--Ross tells us a story about Audra's dad and his nearly-nonexistent sense of smell--
*A minute later*
Ross: "Audra is worried about losing her sense of smell."
Me: "Are you worried about losing your sense of remembrance?!  You just told us that!"


Luke: "Gio might have a Matchbox car that's worth three dollars!"
Ross: "Bring me the car; let me see the price book."
--Takes the car, looks in the book--
Ross: "Yeah, this is the right one.  I think the car has some syrup on it, though.  You take it to the Antiques Roadshow, and they taste it, 'Mmmmmm, maple!'"


Scott told me about his police pursuit and how he couldn't get this seatbelt on because the road was so bumpy that the belt kept locking in his hand!  He ate three of Amos' cookies.


Mom: "Alistair Begg isn't really old, unless you think I'm really old!"
Brenda: "Mo-ther!!  You are not old!  You have at least fifty years left to go!
Mom, teasing: "I just want to live old enough to be a burden to my children."
Alexis: "What's a burgen?"


All in all, it was a very nice two days being able to see everyone. :)

Missing Link?

Isobel Kuhn is my favorite missionary.  I read a BJUP biography of her when I was in 6th grade or so.  Later I read another biography and have always remembered her words that the biographer chose for the front pages of the book.  "Why go to the heathen?  The heathen are happy!" Isobel said, as she proceeded to tell of a young heathen girl caught in an indiscretion who was skinned alive as punishment.  How horrifying.

Isobel Khuh was a Canadian, a student at Moody Bible College where she met her husband, and a missionary to the Lisu people in mountainous Western China in the 1930s and 40s.  She is my favorite.

I think I initially liked Isobel Kuhn because she had many doubts when she was younger, as did I.  "She wasn't perfect!  She had doubts and overcame them and went on to be a missionary!  Maybe I can do the same."

My book and note (click to enlarge)

In January Amos was working overnights at TMC.  He came home and went to bed, and I eventually got up and wandered into the kitchen.  I found a note and a book with a battered dust jacket on the table.  It was Nests Above the Abyss, by Isobel Kuhn!  Amos had found the book for sale in the TMC library in the middle of the night, left the money for the book on the circulation desk, and brought it home to me.  Awwww!

After returning from India, I picked up the book again and decided to read it.  It was very encouraging and convicting at the same time.  Two things that really stuck out to me are the need to pray for our missionaries (and others) and the fact that one missionary or one missionary couple cannot respond to all requests; they would quickly become overwhelmed and rendered useless.  I encourage you to read Nests Above the Abyss, one of Isobel's other books, or one of Isobel's biographies.  I've included a few paragraphs from the last chapter of Nests Above the Abyss.

"Ten years they have waited [after asking for a missionary to come teach them].  Do you think that when they called for gospel messengers, God did not respond?  It could not be.  He gave His most precious Son that all might know and receive eternal life.  I think that man did not respond.  It costs something to leave loved ones and the comforts of civilization.  I believe that each generation God has "called" enough men and women to evangelize all the yet unreached tribes of the earth.  Why do I believe that?  Because everywhere I go, I constantly meet with men and women who say to me, "When I was young I wanted to be a missionary, but I got married instead." Or, "My parents dissuaded me," or some such thing.  No, it is not God who does not call.  It is man who will not respond!

Our dear Missing Link is in heaven, and took a little fruit along with him, too [a newish convert who died].  I am sure his one talent received a "Well done!" from his Master.  But I am wondering what God is going to say to this other kind of Missing Link -- the Link missing from his chain of witnesses to the uttermost parts!  "My flock became meat to every beast of the field, because there was no shepherd, neither did my shepherds search for my flock, but the shepherds fed themselves, and fed not my flock" (Ezek. 34:8).

Satan's stronghold towers up triumphantly.  The awful abyss gapes wide beneath them.  The Sharp Winds from the Bitter Height are still blowing.  Oh, will you not help point out to the terrified little Nestlings, that behind them is the Cleft of the Rock, so close, so sheltering, but so unseen unless you and I go to them."

:: Nests Above the Abyss, Isobel Kuhn, 1947

On television and books

I finished reading Charlie and the Chocolate Factory by Roald Dahl on Friday, and I thought it was great.  In the book, five different children visit the factory of the wonderful, excitable Willie Wonka.  One small boy, Mike Teavee, is obsessed with television, to put it mildly.  This is his downfall as he is shrunk by Willie Wonka's powerful TV rays and subsequently carried off to be stretched back to normal.  After Mike is gone, the Oompa-Loompas, Willie Wonka's friends and workers, sing a little song about him that I liked very much.


The most important thing we've learned,
As far as children are concerned,
Is never, NEVER, NEVER let
Them near to your television set -
Or better still, just don't install
The idiotic thing at all.
In almost every house we've been,
We've watched them gaping at the screen.
They loll and slop and lounge about,
And stare until their eyes pop out.
(Last week in someone's place we saw
A dozen eyeballs on the floor.)
They sit and stare and stare and sit
Until they're hypnotised by it,
Until they're absolutely drunk
With all that shocking ghastly junk.
Oh yes, we know it keeps them still,
They don't climb out the window sill,
They never fight or kick or punch,
They leave you free to cook the lunch
And wash the dishes in the sink -
Bud did you ever stop to think,
To wonder just exactly what
This does to your beloved tot?
IT ROTS THE SENSES IN THE HEAD!
IT KILLS IMAGINATION DEAD!
IT CLOGS AND CLUTTERS UP THE MIND!
IT MAKES A CHILD SO DULL AND BLIND
HE CAN NO LONGER UNDERSTAND
A FANTASY, A FAIRYLAND!
HIS BRAIN BECOMES AS SOFT AS CHEESE!
HIS POWERS OF THINKING RUST AND FREEZE!
HE CANNOT THINK - HE ONLY SEES!
"All right!" you'll cry.  "All right!" you'll say,
"But if we take the set away,
What shall we do to entertain
Our darling children?  Please explain!"
We'll answer this by asking you,
"What used the darling ones to do?
"How used they keep themselves contented
Before this monster was invented?"
Have you forgotten?  Don't you know?
We'll say it very loud and slow:
THEY . . . USED . . . TO . . . READ!  They'd READ and READ,
AND READ and READ, and then proceed
To READ some more.  Great Scott!  Gadzooks!
One half their lives was reading books!
The nursery shelves held books galore!
Books cluttered up the nursery floor!
And in the bedroom, by the bed,
More books were waiting to be read!
Such wondrous, fine, fantastic tales
Of dragons, gypsies, queens, and whales
And treasure isles, and distant shores
Where smugglers rowed with muffled oars,
And pirates wearing purple pants,
And sailing ships and elephants,
And cannibals crouching 'round the pot,
Stirring away at something hot.
(It smells so good, what can it be!
Good gracious, it's Penelope.)
The younger ones had Beatrix Potter
With Mr. Tod, the dirty rotter,
And Squirrel Nutkin, Pigling Bland,
And Tiggly-Winkle and -
Just How The Camel Got His Hump,
And How The Monkey Lost His Rump,
And Mr. Toad, and bless my soul,
There's Mr. Rat and Mr. Mole -
Oh, books, what books they used to know,
Those children living long ago!
So please, oh please, we beg, we pray,
Go throw your TV set away,
And in it's place you can install
A lovely bookshelf on the wall.
Then fill the shelves with lots of books,
Ignoring all the dirty looks,
The screams and yells, the bites and kicks,
And children hitting you with sticks -
Fear not, because we promise you
That, in about a week or two
Of having nothing else to do,
They'll now begin to feel the need
Of having something good to read.
And once they start - oh boy, oh boy!
You watch the slowly growing joy
That fills their hearts.  They'll grow so keen
They'll wonder what they'd ever seen
In that ridiculous machine,
That nauseating, foul, unclean,
Repulsive television screen!
And later, each and every kid
Will love you more for what you did.
P.S. Regarding Mike Teavee,
We very much regret that we
Shall simply have to wait and see
If we can get him back his height.
But if we can't - it serves him right.

:: Roald Dahl

from Charlie and the Chocolate Factory

Truth, love, grace, and forgiveness

Tim Keller, who has been mentioned more than once (or twice) on this blog, wrote The Meaning of Marriage with his wife Kathy, and I am about three-quarters of the way done with it.  I think it's great, and I highly recommend it.  I thought I'd add this quote that applies to all relationships, not just marriage.  The context of this quote explains the need for truth, love, and grace in your relationship.

"What does it take to know the power of grace?  First it takes humility.  If you have trouble forgiving someone, it is at least partly because deep in your heart you are thinking, 'I would never do anything like that!'  As long as you feel superior to someone, feel like you are a much better kind of person, you will find it very hard if not impossible to forgive.  If you stay superior and disdainful of the person, truth will eat up love.  You will only criticize, and not in a way that the person can hear.  You will be too scornful and harsh."

-Tim Keller, The Meaning of Marriage

Distracting

Words are distracting.  At least they are to me.

I don't know what it is about words and letters, but very often I find myself reading them over and over and over again.  We used to keep packing boxes behind our old couch, and the edges of the boxes would peek over the back of the couch.  Every time I sat on the couch to talk with Amos, I would inevitably be distracted by the words and phrases that were only partially visible.  What did the rest of that sentence say?  Could it say this?  Why weren't the lines of text centered?  Which words would make the lines centered on the box edge?  We finally moved the boxes when we got a new couch, which makes talking on the couch much easier.  A few months ago Amos and I were sitting in our friend's office at church, discussing the direction of the college group.  I listened to and talked with Amos and Paul, but I still found myself trying to read all of the titles on Paul's bookshelves.  In a third example, I was having dinner with a new friend and reading the words "North Face" on her pink sweatshirt over and over again, trying to come up with a pattern in the letters or a different way to arrange the two words.  It was very distracting.

I suppose some people would call that OCD.

I just love words.  I love to read Psalms because of the eloquent truths.
"I would have lost hope unless I had believed that I would see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living."
or other places in Scripture, "Christ in you, the hope of glory."

I read all sorts of books, and every once in a while I wish I could write like their authors.  Mind you, I don't want to write in a flowery style, talking about sun-dappled lanes and fiery drops of gold glistening on dewy roses.  That is just a little too weird and forced.

But I just love words, and I love books by authors who know how to use them.  My most recent "word" investment cost me just $0.50.

I walked to our neighborhood thrift store on Saturday, intending to look at the children's books to see if there were any we could take to India.  This thrift store is even cheaper than Goodwill, charging only twenty-five cents for a paperback children's book!  I found two autobiographies by Roald Dahl: Boy: Tales of Childhood and Going Solo.  I'd never read any books by Roald Dahl, but I remember my dad reading Ross and Scott James and the Giant Peach when we were little (I'm not sure why I wasn't included; I was probably too young).  I never read any Dahl books myself, though, because I was usually creeped out by the illustrations on the front covers.

Anyway, I bought the two books after skimming only a few pages.  I figured if they weren't appropriate for the kids in India, I could always keep them myself.  I started Boy on Saturday and I finished Going Solo today; I loved them.  It amazes me how so many different people can use so many of the same words in so many different ways.  Roald Dahl was very good at crafting exciting, creative, hilarious sentences out ordinary, everyday words.  I'm interested to see if his fiction is as well-written as his two autobiographies.

Excerpts from Boy: Tales of Childhood

The Great Mouse Plot
"When writing about oneself, one must strive to be truthful.  Truth is more important than modesty.  I must tell you, therefore, that it was I and I alone who had the idea for the great and daring Mouse Plot.  We all have our moments of brilliance and glory, and this was mine."

Goat's tobacco
"When I was about nine, the ancient half-sister got engaged to be married."

Without ending us

"In his death, God suffers in love, identifying with the abandoned and godforsaken.  Why did he do it?  The Bible says that Jesus came on a rescue mission for creation.  He had to pay for our sins so that someday he can end evil and suffering without ending us."

:: Timothy Keller, The Reason for God

Lillias

I just finished reading A Passion for the Impossible: The Life of Lillias Trotter, by Miriam Huffman Rockness.  One of my friends read it a while ago, but I didn't write down the title and thus didn't check out the book.  Recently I saw that one of the professors at Master's was going to do a workshop on women missionaries, and I saw Lillias Trotter's name in the description.  I wrote down her name and headed to the library, determined to find her biographies before someone else did (though I doubt many college students would be really interested in reading an extra book at the start of the semester ;) ).

Lillias was a pioneer missionary to Algeria in the late 1800s-early 1900s.  She and two friends landed on the coast literally knowing no one and speaking no Arabic (though they did know French; whew!).  Lillias lived and worked among Algerian Muslims for forty years.  She is a great inspiration of trust and dedication; I hope I can be like her one day.

I included several quotes from her diaries and other writings.  I underlined the parts that I especially liked.


"For the blessedness of receiving is not all God has for us: a new world lies beyond - a world of giving: a giving first to God in surrender, then to man in sacrifice."

"The whole place gives one the impression of being 'White unto the harvest.'  May God Himself put in the sickle and gather the souls into His garner, to be made in their turn seeds for future sowing."

"I am full of hope that when God delays in fulfilling our little thoughts, it is to have Himself room to work out His great ones."

"...and then a strange peace - almost joy settled down on us - & the certainty of one of God's sequels worth waiting for as they have ever been in time past when our ways have been switched off the lines on which we counted."

"...time is nothing to God - nothing in its speeding, nothing in its halting - He is the God that inhabiteth eternity."

"...it is an older faith that learns to swing out into nothingness & drop down full weight on God...nothing between us and the abyss but Himself - A rejoicing in every fresh emergency that is going to prove Him true - The Lord Alone - that is trained faith."