Tonight I learned something new: girls go to school and boys go to work—at least according to the wisdom of 3-year-old Brooke. :) It's interesting how little kids perceive the world.

Tonight I went to the YACTR (Young Adults of Christ the Redeemer) Bible study. We started back up after a short cessation and are going to be going through Philippians this summer. I like this choice.

We talked about a lot tonight. A few key themes stand out: community, selflessness, unity, single minded-ness. Paul is so selfless as he rejoices that Christ is proclaimed, even while he is imprisoned. Can I imagine that? How wd. I deal with being left out, in the “bad-boy” position, while others are out proclaiming the gospel, looking like the good guys while having rotten motives? It sounds pretty unfair to me, and I'd feel pretty miserable. Rejoice? Paul is completely selfless and focused on the gospel, and that is pretty cool. He's not looking at himself. He doesn't have control issues, and it really isn't all about him. Then there's community. The way we live a life that is worthy of the gospel is at least in part through fellowship and community with others, a godly one-minded-ness. Fellowship, sharing, encouragement, upholding—these are so important. With this kind of unity, the opponents are playing a game that was over before it even started. Then we move on to individuality and self sufficiency. It's not about that. Paul has it going for him, but he doesn't claim that. To kind of sum up, it's not about us, it's about Christ and the gospel, and our identity is in Christ not us. A practical application of this and a way to cultivate this attitude is thought fellowship with others, a community enthusiasm and focus. And I think... therein lies the key to the solution of the battle that rages in me between carving out my identity through doing things and, yes, still “doing” but not being defined by that.

Hither to Thy love has blest me;
Thou hast brought me to this place;
And I know Thy hand will bring me
Safely home by Thy good grace.

- - - - -

Let Thy goodness like a fetter,
Bind my wandering heart to Thee:
Prone to wander, Lord, I feel it,
Prone to leave the God I love;
Here's my heart, O take and seal it;
Seal it for Thy courts above.

- - - - -

You are the source of every new life,
the giver of every good thing.
Withholding nothing, You lavish Your kindness on me.

- - - - -

I stood in church and sang about these things—grace, trust about God's plans, God's kingdom and will on earth, God as the giver of every good thing—with invisible tears running down my face. Because it's true. And because even the truth doesn't rescue us from pain right now.

I need to die to something. Some things I need to give up. It hurts so, so badly. I think about what Jon said to me on Sunday: "Unless a grain of wheat falls into the ground and dies..." (John 12:24) I'm really struggling in death pangs. To die without dying. To die and to live. How do I die and give up without stabbing my heart to death? Surrender without quiting or losing hope? When it hurts so badly, I just want to extinguish all sources of pain. Become a rock—a cold one. Build a protection to bar from getting hurt again. But that's not what I want. That is the death that smells of death and not of life. I want to lose my life so that I can gain it. But sometimes I can't tell the difference. I'm not capable by myself of offering up my very life, my dreams, and my heart without some sort of deadening pain killer. But no, to remain alive, so intensely alive, and live and survive and thrive and have a warm, open heart... that's what I'm half afraid of, mostly wanting, and feeling pretty clueless about getting to.

I know You are here. But, Jesus, You are not flesh and blood that I can touch. I need so much reassuring. You really know what you are doing? Because I don't. I need your love every day. God, I'm so weary. I know you are faithful. I'm human though. I will cry and cry even as I acknowledge your goodness, love, and faithfulness.

Here are those books I spoke of, if any of you would like to read them:

The Archives of Anthropos by John White—

• The Sword Bearer
• Gaal the Conqueror
• The Tower of Geburah
• The Iron Sceptre
• Quest for the King
• The Dark Lord's Demise
  

The Spirit Flyer Series by John Bibee—

• The Magic Bicycle: The Story of a Bicycle that Found a Boy
  
• The Toy Campaign: The Plot to Trick a Town with Toys
  
• The Only Game in Town: Win, and You Lose the Best Prize of All
  
• Bicycle Hills: How One Halloween Almost Got Out of Hand
  
• The Last Christmas: The Holiday Scheme to Stop Spirit Flyers
  
• The Runaway Parents: The Parable of the Problem Parents
• The Perfect Star: Becoming Children of the True King
  
• Journey of Wishes: A Trip the Changed John Adam for Good
  

These are favorites of mine, and I recommend both series. They are kids books but have some good spiritual truths in them. Plus, I'm thinking that John White must have been a TCK or something because the books have a certain something about them...

I'm struggling with feeling totally, completely abandoned by God, like he has forgotten what he's doing and forgotten about me.

I'm trying to keep my sanity tonight and think about truth and life outside of myself and my feelings. I thought of the Archives of Anthropos. When I've read those books and the Spirit Flyer Series, this in one thing that has always stood out to me, something that I first remember noticing one day in Cotonou a long time ago. We come to points in the stories where a character has a choice about what to do: trust an unknown evil, do what seems right, do what feels good, or trust and obey Gaal... We readers sometimes foresee the consequences, and we beg the character not to go the wrong path but to stick with what Gaal said, or to "just do it!" about something—let go, forgive, trust, or whatever is asked rightly of him or her. "Please," we plead. "It's so clear. Don't you see it?" But we ourselves are in a real story much like these I mentioned. In the books, I know that Gaal is good and right and things will work out right if one obeys and trusts him. I know because I can look ahead at the end. I know because of reading past stories about him. I know because he's Gaal, and what more can I say. The good-looking thing that wasn't in Gaal's plan isn't actually good. But the character can't see that? Sometimes I feel some disdain for the character... In my own life it's so much harder. God gives good gifts. Accept that. Trust. Obey. Could I stop fighting? Could I believe? Will all my "knowing," it still seems impossibly hard. Jesus, I want to receive with both hands.

Jo, Noah, and I started reading a book together in the evenings. We chose Very Good, Jeeves, a book by the British author Pelham Granville Wodehouse written in the 1920s, I believe. None of us have read anything by him before, but his name came up a couple times out of the blue within a short period, and a long time ago, I recall that Rachel Mae recommended his writing, so here we have it.

"Very good, sir."

"The rain continued to lash down with what you might call indescribable fury..."

"The Right Hon. was a tubby little chap who looked as if he had been poured into his clothes and had forgotten to say "When!" and the picture he conjured up, if you know what I mean, was rather pleasing."

New Friends and Old Friends

Make new friends, but keep the old;
Those are silver, these are gold.
New-made friendships, like new wine,
Age will mellow and refine.
Friendships that have stood the test—
Time and change—are surely best;
Brow may wrinkle, hair may gray,
Friendship never knows decay.
For 'mid old friends, tried and true,
Once more we our youth renew.
But old friends, alas! may die,
New friends must their place supply.
Cherish friendship in your breast—
New is good, but old is best;
Make new friends, but keep the old;
Those are silver, these are gold.

-by Joseph Parry, taken from The Best Loved Poems of the American People

I feel that this poem is rather appropriate for me at the moment, having just moved to Spokane, and being somewhat shy and unwilling to make new friends and also keenly missing old friends.

Let Me Be a Woman—

p. 172 - "You can't, of course, be constructive if you don't perceive weakness. But when you recognize a place where a little construction or reinforcement is needed, you can begin to build up, to encourage, to strengthen."

I am through the book now. It was excellent and very insightful. I recommend it, ladies.

The strains of My Fair Lady are floating through my head. It's past midnight. I've had a full day. The boys just went home, now that the movie is over. That movie is an interesting study in male/female interaction and relationships. For the most part, I think it disappoints, though I enjoyed watching it. "Eliza, where the devil are my slippers?!"

Today we played tennis. We drove down to the park on Mission that has a bunch of courts, many of them rather badly cracked. I had a wonderful time! I payed a set with Jon and barely lost 3-2; played a doubles set with Jo, Ste, and Noah and won 3-2; played a set with Noah and lost 3-0; played a set with Jo and lost 3-0. How fun. :) Honestly, I'm glad the boys are so good. I can play as hard as I want and have a blast, and the boys still get their satisfaction of beating me. They are so funny. Then Jon took us to the Arctic Circle and got us dipped soft ice-cream cones. What fun. Driving around Spokane with my big brother, getting ice-cream, feeling like we're going too fast in Jon's little red sports car, feeling awkward wearing sunglasses, letting Jon convince me that it's not weird to wear sunglasses pushed up on my hair when I no longer need them, etc. "...what a Day..."—actually, I think it reflects that Day. Then we came home and had a wonderful supper in which Noah learned the Walters' way of eating baked potatoes. Then Noah and Jo were amazing on their guitars for us. Noah sang his "French song" and a song that Aunt Meredith taught them called "The Fox." Then the movie.

Let Me Be a Woman—

p. 151 - "You are, Valerie, by the grace of God, a woman. This means you have responsibilities. You are fully a woman, and this means you have privileges. You are only a woman, which means you have limitations. Walt is a man, he is fully a man, and he is only a man. Thank God for this, and live it to the hilt!"

Let Me Be a Woman—

p. 112 - To be a woman, to be what we were made to be, to belong just where we were made to fit... "The psalms are full of expressions of God's authority and control, of measurement, limitation, direction. Psalm 104, for example, speaks of it: 'Thou didst set the earth on its foundations, so that it should never be shaken... The mountains rose, the valleys sank down to the place which Thou didst appoint for them. Thou didst set a bound which they should not pass... Thou hast made the moon to mark the seasons; the sun to know its time for setting... When Thou sendest forth Thy spirit they are created.'" I'm reminded of the Grand Canyon and all the marvelous landscape I have recently seen during our travels.

p. 118 - "...heirs together of the grace of life." I Peter 3:7

p. 120 - chap. 36 is excellent, but I won't copy it all out here :)

p. 129 - The story of the centurion with the sick servant... his faith... I love it.

p. 134 - "When He made Eve, it was because the Garden of Eden would have been a prison of loneliness for Adam without her. It was not good for him to be alone, and to release him from his prison and bring him freedom and joy He gave him a woman. Eve's freedom and joy was to be in being Adam's complement." This is something that comes to mind when thinking of the issue of polygamy. Does having a co-wife rob a woman of her place as her husband's complement and helper? She has now to share this position. It just doesn't seem like the best, ideal thing, does it? She is fully a wife, and yet can only be part of a complement or a complement part of the time, or something. There are some strange dynamics here.

Jo is here. The Jo. I'm extremely emotional right now. We all (Noah included) went and picked him up at the airport. Now that's the proper way to meet someone after a long separation. :) I just love the anticipation of waiting in an airport for someone dear. Jo! So we came home and visited a while, and then the three boys went home.

I've missed you SO MUCH! I think something in me died when you left over two years ago. It's incredible to see you again. Your hug—I haven't had anything like that in so long. I'm crying because I didn't realize just how much I missed you and how I've been living the last two years (though they were good). I'm crying because we probably won't ever be living together under the same roof longterm ever again. I'm crying because I'm afraid of this summer, the change, and everything happening at once. I'm crying because I've just been reminded of something very beautiful, and I'm keenly aware of longings that aren't fulfilled and probably won't be any time soon.

Let Me Be a Woman—

p. 55 - "...as a pillar is cut and shaped to fit into a particular place and carry a specific weight, it is by that cutting and shaping differentiated and limited. It is the very differentiation and limitation that that pillar has to offer. So with us.

p. 89 - Elisabeth Elliot, when she was proposed to a second time: "I told this man that I knew there were women waiting for him who could offer him many things I couldn't offer—things like beauty and money. But, said I, 'There's one thing I can give you that no woman on earth can outdo me in and that's appreciation.'"

In this longing, and in this pain, I hear a voice softly calling, a voice firmly speaking:

"...the LORD has anointed me to bring good news to the poor; he has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted [You want to do that, Lord?], to proclaim liberty to the captives, and the opening of the prison to those who are bound; to proclaim the year of the LORD's favor, and the day of vengeance of our God; to comfort all who mourn; to grant to those who mourn in Zion—to give them a beautiful headdress instead of ashes, the oil of gladness instead of mourning, the garment of praise instead of a faint spirit; that they may be called oaks of righteousness, the planting of the LORD [I want that], that he may be glorified. They shall build up the ancient ruins; they shall raise up the former devastations; they will repair the ruined cities, the devastations of many generations."
Isaiah 61:1b-4

Switching gears here... the Hammonds, whose house we are staying in, left two bookshelves full of books, and they have a bunch of books I'd like to read. I've started two of them: The Sacred Romance: Drawing Closer to the Heart of God and Let Me Be a Woman. The latter is a book that Elisabeth Elliot wrote to and for her daughter Valerie while Valerie was preparing to get married.


Let Me Be a Woman—

p. viii - a prayer by Betty Scott Stam: "Lord, I give up all my own plans and purposes, and my own desires and hopes, and accept Thy will for my life. I give myself, my life, my all utterly to Thee to be Thine forever. Fill me and seal me with Thy Holy Spirit. Use me as Thou wilt, send me where Thou wilt, work out Thy whole will in my life at any cost, now and forever."

p. 4 - "The question is, 'Whose am I?' not 'Who am I?' But people think that enough opinions will produce a unified truth. As Carlyle observed--'Vulpine knowingness sits ever at its hopeless task--from a world of knaves to deduce an honesty from their combined action."

p. 13 - Made for a man. It's a very curious thing, to think about what that means for me now. What about in eternity?

p. 36 - "My job is now over. You are a woman, God's woman, autonomous before Him. But His disciplining of you is far from finished. If you love Him, you'll do what he says. And there can be no question as to whether He means it if only you will look at His face, be silent long enough to hear what He says. 'He calls his own sheep by name.' It was when Mary heard her name that she knew her Master in the Garden after His resurrection. 'Master!' she cried in recognition of His lordship over her."

p. 34 and 37 -

Drop Thy still dews of quietness
Till all our strivings cease.
Take from our souls the strain and stress,
And let our ordered lives confess
The beauty of Thy peace.

I have a hard time with those lines, because, while in a sense, yes, we have peace in Him and somewhat ordered lives, we are always straining, always striving, always dealing with things, always longing for something. "The way you keep your house, the way you organize your time, the care you take in your personal appearance, the things you spend your money on all speak loudly about what you believe. 'The beauty of Thy peace' shines forth in an ordered life. A disordered life speaks loudly of the order of disorder in the soul." How can she say that? People differ. Perhaps for certain personalities, yes, but all disorderly people have disorderly souls?? Speaks loudly??