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??

I hope you like this cause it took way too much time to post...

I tried posting this a while ago, but the internet was too wacky and unreliable at the time.

This is a recipe that my family have been enjoying. mom got the recipe a long time ago from an ex-hippy friend. It's reeealy good! It's also quite a quick meal, so I'm double partial to it. :) Actually, make that triple partial because it's also good for you.


Beans over Rice with Chutney—

Beans:
Bring to a boil:
1 lb. pinto beans (or red beans), covered+ with water
Turn off and let sit for an hour; then rinse out old water.
Add to beans and cook until beans are tender (something like half an hour in a pressure cooker):
Water to well cover beans
Salt, pepper
1-2 tsp. cumin
1 onion, coarsely chopped
1-4 Tbsp. oil
The beans should be mostly whole with some broth/juice when done.

Rice:
Cook till water is nearly gone, then turn off and let sit with lid on tightly:
2 cups brown rice
4 cups water
Soy sauce
2 Tbsp. butter
Salt, pepper

Chutney:
Mince and stir together:
4-9 (2 cups) tomatoes
1 (1/2 cup) onion
Add:
1-7 (1/4-1/2 cup juice) squeezed lemons

Make the chutney ahead of time to let it sit for half an hour or so in the fridge. Serve the rice with a layer of beans and juice and then chutney over that. Fresh bread or Hard Rolls (a specific recipe of ours) go well with this meal, but we often skip that. The rice can be made any old way, really, just however you usually do, and plain rice or white rice or whatever works fine. But the smell of rice cooking with butter in it is heavenly. Mmmmm.. The beans can take a while, so it’s works best for me to cook a kilo at a time and use half one day for tacos/burritos or something and half for this recipe another day.

Note: if you don’t have a pressure cooker, get one! (and learn how to use it properly… ;))

Arghhh, I'm having a horrid time trying to post a picture!! No picture, I guess.... :( Trying to get a simple text post to work is hard enough... it's soooo frustrating.

[edit: the picture now works!]

What does a Doer look like?

An excerpt from my journal, a few weeks ago, which I think is acceptable to post and shares some of my thoughts. I hope any of you referenced in here don't mind me talking about you. :)

- - - - -

Niamey
May 6, 2007 Sunday

My problem is that I'd rather read than write; I'd rather think than do. I'm a dreamer. In fact, I want to do, just I don't always. I was reading through the April 14 WORLD issue today, and was impressed with the article about "nekulturny"—not cultured activities for a leader. Marvin Olasky once told a student asking what he could do to combat the left, that he could tutor a child who had fallen behind in school.

The best way to drive out the culture of dependence and entitlement in America [could it be for Niger too?] is through the relentless love and compassion of caring neighbors. -Coburn

Where are the "small people" dealing with social needs?

I've graduated now [high school], and I can hardly believe it. Yesterday, May 5th, 7 p.m. ceremony. Dad said a few words, of thanks, some about my schooling, and a sort of charge to me, including Solomon's "Remember your maker in your youth." Then I went up and gave a short speech. Then diploma giving-receiving time and switching my tassel to the right side. Mom shared a bit, and then Aunt Mary Johnson and Miss Gabrielle. Gabby said I was mature in so many ways and encouraged me to spend that time with God every day, not that I wouldn't. But actually, I don't always. That was encouraging [as in, reminded me that this is what I want to be doing]. Then we had a prayer time, standing in the front with a group from the audience, whoever wanted to come up. It was very special, and I never want to forget the words spoken over me, prayer and a charge for this life. Then we went on to the reception part with food and punch and a picture slide show.

But let me back up. The ceremony was held in the SIL conference room. Dad got it all ready in the morning, with chairs arranged on one half and the other half set up for the ceremony with food table and lounge chairs and so on. Most of SIL came and some of the Sahel seniors and Gabby and Amber. I was rather stressed about all of this stuff before time, like two weeks before, or more, and was amazed standing there beforehand, knowing that it was done, whatever may be. I'm kind of glad I didn't write in here all the frustration and disappointment I felt with Dad and Mom about this whole thing, planning, because in the end it all worked out and was fine and the rest is already fading. They both worked hard the last day to make the day special and were supportive. Dad and I just don't see eye to eye about things like this and it's kind of hard to communicate sometimes. I can always reconsider my expectations too. My speech kind of came together the last day in the afternoon. I liked it very well, and just said something short from my heart. I'd never given a speech before, that I can think of, not including exclusively family ones. I was glad those who came could, and I really felt the family community support.

It's a really weird feeling, being graduated. I feel like I'm free to tackle the world now, kinda. I don't have to worry about school requirements or anything, but can learn, make use of opportunities...and do what I've always wanted to. Kind of...and whatever that is. I kind of wish I were off to spend the summer (or one month) with Tabi in Galmi this year, and get off on my own a bit just now, a marked change of pace. But actually, I wouldn't necessarily want it to be Galmi. For some reason I don't really want to re-live that time again. It's in the past.

For some reason I feel drawn to the USofA or some other place. I was frustrated the other day, reading Tabi's letter about how I should really be more involved with the African people here instead of being passive and staying comfortable and shallow at home (how I take what she said)—like her MK experience is legitimate and mine is not [sorry, if I misconstrued you, Tabi]. It’s stung. (On the side, Daniel came in while I was reading this letter and crying to ask me a question, and then he grinned a sweet, embarrassed smile and went back out. Mom had just gotten home, so he went and told her I was crying and crying over a letter, and wasn’t that what happens in movies when a girl likes a guy? Maybe she loves someone? (!!) It was very funny when mom came asking if I was okay and told me what Daniel had said. Anyhow...long parentheses.) I talked to Dad and Mom about the frustration I feel about this and the confusion and guilt that comes when people try to convince me to be out doing things more with the locals. Dad thought it was nonsense, and that I don't need to feel any obligation to spend time with the Africans. That people aren't all the same nor have the same callings or enjoyment or desires. That I'm (just) growing up here. I thought it was interesting that he should say that. I never realized he looks at it from that point of view [Dad, I hope I'm not misconstruing you either]. I was pleased (but not wholly at rest) cause I too think Tabi is being rather unreasonable. Unfortunately, I expect Bethany would agree with Tab, but first she would say "do what your dad or parents think." :)

But I'm not just growing up here. I've got things to do. So far my ministry has been mostly just being a part of my family and living here in Niger and some help and community service. I think for the most part that's what it will continue to be this coming year. I feel very strongly about being a member in my family team, a contributing one to be sure, and helping make a home for my family and building up within my family (and working on some certain relationships too, my heart side). Sometimes though, I wonder about how we as a family could be seen more by Africans (that sounds funny) and be involved with them more and amongst them. We do tend to be rather seclusionist [is that a word?], don't we? But shall I not follow my father's leading in this? Can it really be helpful to talk with Dad about this as though I distrust his leadership and am not happy with his home? I already sense some of that from different things we've talked about where we just don't agree or can't understand each other. It's a confusing thing to me.

Anyhow, what am I doing this coming year? Yes, I feel drawn to the States sometimes and things that are western [sorry fellow MKs! I feel like I betray my own!]. I'd be interested in living in the States and from my family base help out with the little things that otherwise are killing society and community as cries for big government are being made. Tutor a kid who's falling behind or failing. This is something I could do. I've found I love to teach, as long as I feel like I have an adequate knowledge of the subject, that is. What else? I'm sure there are so many things. I really do feel a tug to be in a place where I can work and reach out and communicate in my mother tongue. Someday.... and yet even now I can be involved some in things like that. Teach the younger girls' Bible study. That is something I could do. I confess it terrifies me a bit, especially the weight of teaching God's Word. This isn't light stuff. But it is something I could do. I asked Tabitha not too long ago, “what can I do if I’m to follow what you say?” There never was any such thing as a choir or youth group in N'guigmi (and only sometimes a church). And I couldn't go out by myself. Here in Niamey the African church that we were involved in for a while was a political hot house really and something Dad decided to get out of. Yeah, well maybe we should have stayed and helped influence things for the better, but that's more Dad's decision than mine. And besides aren't these more than first generation Christians who should be able to keep a church standing without Westerners "babysitting"? Are they even trying? And then I always wonder what we could do anyway. Like our hard efforts would actually make a change especially if the people don't care? Yeah, I know...results aren't in our hands and we don't need to worry about that part, but still, it's discouraging to be involved in something you don't enjoy, a cause you don't feel like helping, and an effort you don't think matters or would do any good. I have little faith, though, in what I could do. Frankly, I don't see a difference I could make among the people, with my severe limits in communication, culture barriers, low status, lack of knowledge and experience and so on. And besides I don't even think God's asking me to focus on this. The only indication for that would be my frustration and somewhat guilty feelings about what Tab said, that her words can prick me. But do I not tend to be an emotional female [ugh, stereotypes :)], and Dad's guidance does not at all confirm that I should be getting out and doing more things with the Africans. Not that I dislike them, though I certainly dislike parts of their cultures. I love being at Bible study with Phiona (from Rwanda—where they wear "normal" clothes, unlike here, as she puts it :)) and Gabby H. (from Nigeria). But with these girls, see, I can communicate and there isn't so much culture clash either. But then of communications, is this a lazy excuse? Yeah, it might be. But I think not (at least not entirely). Gabby and Dad don't think so. Not all people are called [haha, Bethany!!] to learn a language not their own and struggle to reach out cross-culturally. What bout the people of my own language? What about helping Aunt Anora with house work while she's pregnant and packing? Those are the things I love to do. Yeah, that wasn't really outside of my comfort zone, but does that mean it's not legitimate service? What about other things that I love but fear too, that are outside of my comfort zone, at least at this point? Like, playing flute at church. I tend to figure that that's not very useful or serviceable because people can worship God without the noise of a flute, but then I tend to disregard the value of many things... but perhaps God does not. If I can teach Brendan flute, and more than that, impart a bit of joy in life; if I can help Aunt Anora in an indirect way helping her ministry here and encourage her in some way; if I can brighten up the lives of any Sahel kids and encourage and motivate them in a lasting way; if I can teach "my girls" the Truth from the Bible and love them and help point them in the good direction and be an example to them no matter how small and unequal I may feel to the task; if I could show my love in visible ways (which more often than not would involve English speakers rather than others I would expect); if I would rejoice always and have faith like a child that God so delights in; and what's more, overflow His love and be contagious... that's what I want, and that's what I feel called [that word again, Bethany!] to, in part at least.

I do question my heart and wonder whether it's actually a doing one... and it's good to question sometimes. But Lord, help me not to be discouraged or confused or question too much and worry but to learn from others' words and continue on my way, clinging fast to what you want for me, keeping me focused on the simple, deep Truth. On that straight and narrow. And Jesus, help me not deceive myself.

But be doers of the word, and not hearers only, deceiving yourselves. For if anyone is a hearer of the word and not a doer, he is like a man who looks intently at his natural face in a mirror. For he looks at himself and goes away and at once forgets what he was like. But the one who looks into the perfect law, the law of liberty, and perseveres, being no hearer who forgets but a doer who acts, he will be blessed in his doing. If anyone thinks he is religious and does not bridle his tongue but deceives his heart, this person's religion in worthless. Religion that is pure and undefiled before God, the Father, is this: to visit orphans and widows in their affliction, and to keep oneself unstained from the world." -James 1.22-27

MY blog?

It seems like all friends and cousins and strangers have a blog these days. I figured it could have some useful, good and fun potential, so I got me one of these things months (years?) ago. Since then I've used it some, but it's had no purpose really or vision, and that's bothered me. "Look at so-and-so's blog, she writes such inspiring things, and look over there at her's, she writes funny, homey things, and then, he writes about the things God's doing in his life, and she.... and me... I've just got an old blog, to spout my nonsense... or say nothing at all is more like it." Well...maybe it's not like that quite, but you know how things can seems sometimes. But honestly I do want to do something with this blog, and I love having places to tack things down, as it were, and share my life a bit. One reason I haven't gotten into posting much here is that I've had such a terrible time trying to get it to work, with posts disappearing or more often coming out formatted the wrong way (not like I told it to be! I'm sure) and so on, but I think it's working better now.. or maybe I know how to run things better?? And if there are still problems, well, I guess I'll live with them or work more on them.

So, anyhow, as life was going along and I wasn't yet doing anything with my blog, just thinking about it, I heard this sermon at church, and the part that really caught my attention had to do with identity and how we westerners love to find our identity and it's a big deal to us. But actually what is better is to lose our identity in Christ. Wow! That's such a problem for me. I get so caught up in "defining myself." Really I do. Everything I do, whether very conscious or not, "What does this make me? How does this build my life? Does it add a nice little part to my life? Does it reflect ME?" But wait, does it reflect Christ in me? Really does it? Can I lose my identity in Christ? You know, that's what I want, but I still feel so tied up in ME, and even as I write, I can't help but think that I'm really caring about what I write in how it defines ME...even as I want this blog to be a place to honor God in seriousness and fun, to reflect Christ, I know I get so caught up in ME...

That said, I've decided still to change a few things and go on with this blog, try posting something useful or fun or encouraging or practical weekly? maybe less, maybe more. I'm not promising, just aiming at that for the time being. I don't have any very specific mission or purpose for this blog, but for the moment it's just going to be a nice casual, homey, random place (maybe?). It might become a place where you all out there can actually hear some of the news of my life, but I don't know... I really like that personal e-mail still, and wouldn't have as much time for it if I posted news to you guys all together on here.

Loss, risk, love, brokenness, failure, sin, humanity

None are more hopelessly enslaved than those who falsely believe they are free.
-Johann Wolfgang van Goethe

God hath chosen the weak things of the world, to confound the things that are mighty…and the things which are despised, God hath chosen.
-Jonathan Edwards

It was when I found out that I could make mistakes that I knew that I was onto something.
-Ornette Cateman

He is no fool who gives that he cannot keep to gain that which he cannot lose.
-Jim Elliot, October 28, 1949

If you don’t risk anything, you risk even more.
-Erica Jong

Certainly nothing offends us more rudely than this doctrine [of original sin], and yet without this mystery, the most incomprehensible of all, we are incomprehensible ourselves.
-Blaise Pascal

Sin cannot be overcome by human devices of the kind that governments wield but only by suffering and by grace.
-Glenn Tinder

God’s not about, ‘If it’s broken, fix it.’ God’s about, ‘If it thinks its fixed break it.’
-James MacDonald

There is no safe investment. To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything and your heart will certainly be wrung and possibly be broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact, you must give your heart to no-one, not even an animal. Wrap it carefully around with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements; lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket—safe, dark, motionless, airless—it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable. The alternative to tragedy, or at least to the risk or tragedy, is damnation. The only place outside of heaven where you can be perfectly safe from all dangers and perturbations of love is hell.
-C. S. Lewis, The Four Loves

Mysterious love, uncertain treasure;
Hast thou more of pain or pleasure?
Endless torments dwell about thee;
Yet who would live, and live without thee?
-Addison

We shall draw near to God, not by trying to avoid the sufferings inherent in all loves, but by accepting them and offering them to Him; throwing away all defensive armor. If our hearts need to be broken, and if He chooses this as a way in which they should break, so be it.
-C. S. Lewis, The Four Loves

The way to love anything is to realize it might be lost.
-G. K. Chesterton

To love is to allow hope into your life.
To hope is to allow uncertainty into your life.
To be uncertain is the essence of learning to trust God to bring only the disappointments He deems best.
-Gretchen Acheson

A God who did not abolish suffering—worse, a God who abolishes sin precisely by suffering—is a scandal to the modern mind.
-Peter Kreeft

The test of observance of Christ’s teachings is our consciousness of our failure to attain an ideal perfection. The degree to which we draw near this perfection cannot be seen; all we can see is the extent of our deviation.
-Leo Tolstoy

A ship in port is safe, but that’s not what ships are built for.
-Grace Murray Hopper

Matt 14.26-32: But when the disciples saw him walking on the sea, they were terrified, and said, "It is a ghost!" and they cried out in fear. But immediately Jesus spoke to them, saying, ‘Take heart; it is I. Do not be afraid.’ And Peter answered him, ‘Lord, if it is you, command me to come to you on the water.’ He said, ‘Come.’ So Peter got out of the boat and walked on the water and came to Jesus. But when he saw the wind, he was afraid, and beginning to sink he cried out, ‘Lord, save me.’ Jesus immediately reached out his hand and took hold of him, saying to him, ‘O you of little faith, why did you doubt?’ And when they got into the boat, the wind ceased.

Those who would have nothing to do with thorns must never attempt to gather flowers.
-anon

Matt 16.25: For whoever would save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his live for my sake will find it.

Nothing that you have not given away will really be yours.
-C. S. Lewis

Philippians 1.21: For to me to live is Christ, and to die is gain.

...it's hard to imagine the freedom we find from the things we leave behind...
-Michael Card, "The Things We Leave Behind"

God cannot give us peace and happiness apart from Himself, because it is not there. There is no such thing.
-C. S. Lewis

2 Corinthians 4.7: But we have this treasure in jars of clay, to show that the surpassing power belongs to God and not to us.

At last we arrive at an entire annihilation of ourselves, and an absolute acquiescence and complacence in the will of God, which afford the only full answer to all our doubts, and the only radical cure for our evils and perplexities.
-David Hartley (1705-1757)

To let go...

To let go doesn’t mean to stop caring, it means I can’t do it for someone else.
To let go is not to cut off, it’s the realization that I don’t control another.
To let go is not to enable, but to allow learning from natural consequences.
To let go is to admit powerlessness, which means the outcome is not in my hands.
To let go is not to try to change or blame another; I can only change myself.
To let go is not to care for, but to care about.
To let go is not to fix, but to be supportive.
To let go is not to judge, but to allow another to be a human being.
To let go is not to be in the middle arranging all the outcomes, but to allow others to affect their own outcomes.
To let go is not to be protective, it is to permit another to face reality.
To let go is not to deny but to accept.
To let go is not to nag, scold, or argue, but to search out my own shortcomings and to correct them.
To let go is not to adjust everything to my desires but to take each day as it comes and to cherish the moment.
To let go is not to criticize and regulate anyone but to try to become what I dream I can be.
To let go is not to regret the past but to grow and live for the future.
To let go is to fear less and love more.

-by somebody

Me Instead of You!

There's one odd fact in life I’ve found—
‘Tis sad but very true—
The faults that lie in each of us
Seem so much worse in you.
If you tell me a thing or two,
You’re heartless as can be,
But when I tell you all your faults,
I’m honest, don’t you see?
When tests and trials come your way
And you feel very low,
"Why be so weak and spineless?"
Is what I’d like to know.
But when it’s me who’s down and out
Somehow it’s not the same.
It’s just that folks don’t treat me right—
I’m really not to blame.
When you set out to tackle
The impossible it seems,
You’re trifling and you’re careless
And full of idle dreams.
But when I do the very same,
It’s faith I’m clinging to;
Now isn’t it strange the change it makes
When it’s me instead of you?

-author unknown