On gaining new perspective

A friend shared this blog post on Facebook (no, she wasn't the author of the post; I don't personally know the woman who wrote this) and I found the sentiments expressed within ... well, relatable. I haven't been in her shoes, but I do know that desperate feeling of trying to hold it all together on the outside when everything is falling apart on the inside; when no one realizes the extent of the turmoil in my life, my heart, my soul.


On top of that, however, this blog post is a beautiful reminder that we need to be gentle with our fellow travelers, because you never know the kind of pain or sorrow hidden within a person's heart. Our first instinct should always be to extend a measure of grace. This blog post was (for me, anyway) also an eye-opening reminder that as bad as our own problems seem to us, there are many people out there with even bigger burdens to carry.


In any case, it was a blog post worth reading, so I thought I would share:


We must see past what it seems...

On being marked for life

Do not merely listen to the word, and so deceive yourselves. Do what it says. Anyone who listens to the word but does not do what it says is like someone who looks at his face in a mirror and, after looking at himself, goes away and immediately forgets what he looks like. But whoever looks intently into the perfect law that gives freedom, and continues in it—not forgetting what they have heard, but doing it—they will be blessed in what they do. ~James 1:22-25


I have long loved inductive Bible study. I loved looking at the historical timeline to add detail to the picture: When did this event happen? What other events in the world were taking place at the time? How did those other events impact this event? How did this event change history? I loved looking at the people who were talking, or being talked about, or being spoken to. Who were they? Where had they been? Where were they going? Why were they there? What had happened to them? All these who, what, where, when, why, and how questions appealed to my inquisitive nature, the one that led me to pursue a degree in journalism. 

I loved digging deep into the Word of God, going beyond the printed word on the page; I wanted to look at the words behind the words. I loved looking up those verses in the ancient Greek or Hebrew to discern the true meaning of a passage. I would spread open before me Strong's Exhaustive Concordance of the Bible, Vine's Expository Dictionary of Old and New Testament Words, Zodhiates' Complete Word Study Dictionary... and, of course, my Bible. The scholar in me thrilled at the etymological hunt for the deeper, truer, more precise meaning of the words.

I had my colored pencils close at hand, and would fill my Bible with shapes and symbols and colors to highlight key words and phrases, like an artist fills a canvas with paint and images. Purples and yellows for the Trinity and Heaven. Greens for geography and time. Blues and oranges for speakers and listeners and the saints. Browns for sin and suffering. Red for Satan and Hell.  Hearts, arrows, exclamation points, squiggles, squares, circles, triangles... no word left untouched, unexamined, unexplored.

I carried this Bible to services, and furiously scribbled notes in the margin whenever the pastor made a particularly profound observation. On my own, I made lists. I watched for contrasts and comparisons. I searched for themes. I read commentaries and added these observations of others to my own.

Until one day... I stopped. Not suddenly. Not on purpose. It started with a major schedule change that prevented me from attending weekly Bible study. Then a series of events--some within my control, others beyond my control--eventually took me down a path where I no longer attended church regularly, let alone had quiet time with God on my own. And the less time I spent in the Word, the less inclined I was to want to spend time in the Word. Where once I thirsted for the knowledge within, the thought of reading God's Word now left a bitter taste in my mouth. I railed at God for abandoning me, even while I knew, in my heart, that it was I who had abandoned Him.

The realization of this was startling.

For years, I had been marking my Bible. But in all that time, had I ever really allowed God's Word to mark me?

On feeling a little flushed...

A conversation this morning:

13yo son (to Hubs, who just got home from being out of town the past few weeks): Dad, I'm so glad you're home! My toilet is clogged and I can't get it unplugged.

Hubs: When did this happen?

Son: Monday.

Hubs: What bathroom have you been using, then?

Son: Huh? What do you mean?

Hubs: Your toilet is clogged; so which toilet have you been using all this week?

Son: Oh! Mine. I've been using mine. I just can't flush it.

(-'_'-)

On effectively effecting change

I believe protests and rallies are important to the political process in our country. The freedom to assemble, to collectively voice our concerns about governmental policy, to provide a visual of a gathering storm that can't be ignored -- all this is essential for maintaining a government of the people, by the people, and for the people. This is what Tea Party rallies are all about. They are one-day affairs, and the intent is shine a spotlight on their issues and concerns; namely, a desire for the federal government to rein in spending, employ conservative fiscal policies, and reduce its size and scope, returning power back to the individual states as the Founding Fathers intended.


Most Tea Party activists recognize that they aren't going to effect any real change by camping out on the National Mall for days on end, holding up placards and shouting epithets at government employees trying to go to work. (Besides which, most Tea Party members have a job, a family, and a real life to get back to.) More importantly, however, they realize that such a strategy may garner lots of attention, but it doesn't tend to garner a lot of sympathy. Real change can only happen in the voting booth.

On my New Year resolutions... more or less

New Year's Day: Now is the accepted time to make your regular annual good resolutions.
Next week you can begin paving hell with them as usual.
~Mark Twain

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I am usually quite reluctant to share my New Year resolutions, because, in the words of John Selden, it's then twice as onerous a duty to keep them. But, perhaps, a little accountability is a good thing. And so, in vague generalities and with as little detail as possible, my resolutions for 2011... more or less:

• Talk less; listen more.

• Read more; watch television less.

• Blog and write more; Facebook and Twitter less.

• Less impulsive buying; more careful budgeting.

• Less red meat; more alternative protein sources.

• More actual letter writing; less emailing and messaging.

• More exercising and daily activity; less sitting around on my butt in front of the computer.

• Less clutter; more organization.

• Less mindless game-playing on Facebook and my iPod; more time spent on piano playing, graphic design, and other creative pursuits I've abandoned along the way.

• Teach more; slack less.

• Less sugar, salt, caffeine, and fats; more raw & organic foods.

• More deliberate planning of my time; less procrastinating.

And, most importantly...

• Less of me; more of God.

On waking up in Narnia

On Christmas morning, right here in northern Alabama, we awoke to a scene straight out of Narnia:




A white Christmas! In the South! This was balm to soothe this Midwestern gal's soul. I so wanted to be home (as in, at my parents' house in Kansas) for Christmas, but it didn't work out this year. This was the consolation prize.

We enjoyed making a snowman:


Next Christmas, I might just have to use this as our Christmas card picture (if I ever get around to sending out cards, that is; don't hold your breath):



I'm just glad I managed to get this posted before the end of 2010! That makes one whole post for the year! I know, it's a lot to keep up with. Thanks to my two subscribers for hanging in there with me.

On the amazing feats of Houdini the Hamster

I am not sure how, but somehow our hamster managed to get out of her cage Thursday night. There were no open doors, no chewed-through wires, no logical openings big enough for her to wriggle through (and, yes, I know they can get pretty small if they want to, but believe me, not that small)... it's a puzzlement, to be sure.

We have not yet found her. And now, the race is on ... who will find her first? The cat? The dog? Or the human? If the poor thing has already met her untimely demise, I hope it's not in some hard-to-reach place. Dead rodents don't smell so pleasant, you know.

Of course, even if *I* catch her first, she might still meet her end at my hand after what I discovered in my search for our little Houdini. When I pulled out from the wall the bookcase upon which her cage sat, I saw dozens and dozens of little turds stuck to the wall, the back of the bookcase, and on the floor! That little stinker has been pitching her poop out through the wires of her cage!

(She obviously didn’t like the Craisins I gave her as a treat, either; some of those were stuck to the wall, as well. Ungrateful little fuzzball.)

After overcoming my initial irritation (and nausea), I just had to laugh. I found it fascinating that she did that dirty little deed out the back of the cage, and not the front or sides ... almost like she was trying to hide it from me 'cause she knew it was wrong! Stupid rat. Smart rodent.

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Your Fun Fact for the day: Did you know that it is illegal to keep hamsters as pets in Australia? They fear "escapees" could breed in the wild and become "feral" pest animals.