A friend made this. She showed it to me this weekend. For the two of you that are checking this blog occasionally, I hope you appreciate it.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=viFp-tjyqbQ
That is all.
20.10.10
16.10.10
Because there's always something to be happy about...
Wow, compared to the titles of my other posts, this one is almost Edwardian. Now there is something I've never observed until typing 'Edwardian' just now, my middle name is Edward, perhaps that's why I give such lengthy explanations of all things. Forgive me; I digress.
There is always something to be happy about and I believe it more now than previously. Yesterday we had a pep-rally. I left school with a funny feeling inside. The last time I had been at a pep-rally I was not enjoying it. High school was not a fun place for me. I did not fit in and knew it. Pep-rallies were times that really heightened my awareness of it because I just couldn't understand how people could get so worked up over nothing. And thinking back now I think it was one of many "Population Growth" moments in my life.
Yet, I was happy all the same. And even more once I left and began reflecting on who I was and who I am now. Even though I felt strangely out of place in that gymnasium yesterday, I was quite glad that I felt foreign. It was just another solid reminder that this place is not my home. I am bound for another place.
And last night I went to a bonfire with some of my closest friends. They're foreigners too. And we talked about the most varied subjects one could hope to enjoy. One of my friends listened to one of my trains of thought as long as he dared, but hopped off at platform 13 which is still a good way from the journey's end; he did it for his safety. My mind is a funny place. I was talking about sheep and Jesus and the way we use words and how I don't think Father ever means to insult us, but rather means to humble us.
And today I am working. Job number two. Only two and a half more hours. I'm counting. I'm also listening to a song: "Funny the Way it is".
It's very much about perspective. And the hands holding my life. If the hands are my own, then I have much unhappiness to endure. But if my life is held by another, by strong hands, then I have much joy to expect and experience. I don't hold my life, or at least I strive not to hold it. The Giver holds my life. And that is something to be happy about.
There is always something to be happy about and I believe it more now than previously. Yesterday we had a pep-rally. I left school with a funny feeling inside. The last time I had been at a pep-rally I was not enjoying it. High school was not a fun place for me. I did not fit in and knew it. Pep-rallies were times that really heightened my awareness of it because I just couldn't understand how people could get so worked up over nothing. And thinking back now I think it was one of many "Population Growth" moments in my life.
Yet, I was happy all the same. And even more once I left and began reflecting on who I was and who I am now. Even though I felt strangely out of place in that gymnasium yesterday, I was quite glad that I felt foreign. It was just another solid reminder that this place is not my home. I am bound for another place.
And last night I went to a bonfire with some of my closest friends. They're foreigners too. And we talked about the most varied subjects one could hope to enjoy. One of my friends listened to one of my trains of thought as long as he dared, but hopped off at platform 13 which is still a good way from the journey's end; he did it for his safety. My mind is a funny place. I was talking about sheep and Jesus and the way we use words and how I don't think Father ever means to insult us, but rather means to humble us.
And today I am working. Job number two. Only two and a half more hours. I'm counting. I'm also listening to a song: "Funny the Way it is".
It's very much about perspective. And the hands holding my life. If the hands are my own, then I have much unhappiness to endure. But if my life is held by another, by strong hands, then I have much joy to expect and experience. I don't hold my life, or at least I strive not to hold it. The Giver holds my life. And that is something to be happy about.
14.10.10
Population Growth.
Today's topic was population growth. I have a like-humored colleague whom I discussed a new teaching strategy with today. I call the strategy "Population Growth!" It's very simple. I wanted my students to learn about population growth? So I taught them population growth. Population growth? Like umm you mean when a bunch of babies are born. No, no, no, I mean population growth. That's what I was talking about. No, you weren't, you were jabbering about babies. I said population growth. Oh, like when you have a bunch of immigration. No, not in the least. I'm talking about population growth. I don't get it. It truly is quite simple: population growth. Population growth? Yes, population growth. Ok, so you want us to learn population growth? Exactly! Population growth....? You've got it, population growth!
It is sorrowfully amusing how quickly a lemming will follow. After a few short moments of what seemed to be mindless babble I had the entire class parroting "population growth." They were entirely clueless. They had figured it all out: just say the words. Then they wouldn't desist from chanting "population growth."
I think it a lamentable fact that many of us live out significant portions of our lives, and sometimes the whole, chanting "population growth" all the while remaining ignorant of what we are saying or doing. We are mockingbirds entirely, not knowing what we say.
And what's worse is that sometimes we parrot "population growth" and don't even realize it's actually a real message. In at least one case I know of, "population growth" is actually a real teaching. It's not the lunacy of a young teacher experimenting with behavior and learning in his classroom, but it is a real lesson. There is at least one case where the "population growth" message is taught, the students wrestle with it a bit and believe they have it, and then go out chanting "population growth." But they miss it. They're just parrots.
Many students guess that it's all just a game. Learn the rules. Play the game. Score a point or two. Come out the other side a winner. But what if, in the midst of the game, there is a real lesson? What if there are actually factors that affect population growth? Carrying capacity. Resources. Birth. Death. Emigration. Immigration. Predation. Competition. Disease. Natural disaster. Crowding. What if there really is immense profundity within "Population Growth" and you miss it because to you it's just a game that you've figured out already?
There was a time that I had figured out "Population Growth." I had figured the game out. And maybe even a game within the game. Was convinced I'd scored a point or two; I hadn't.
So what's the point of all this? And what is the motivation behind it? Well, to steal a bit from a confession I recently heard, part of it is vanity. Mankind is vain; I am no exception. We are wholly unlike other creatures in so many regards, but vanity is the current case in point. We believe we are the center. We are vain enough, proud enough to believe we have it figured out. Have you figured it out? Have you figured out the point of all this? What is it? Tell me what I want. None of my students today could tell me the point of the exercise. I am vain enough to consider myself a teacher, here, now. Please forgive my vanity and accept the lesson as one I am myself learning.
Think hard. What's the point? Why did I do that little experiment? And why do I relate it now with so much garble? Think now, think. Why am I gabbing about parrots and games and whatnot? Think, it'll come to you. Why must I extend such an air of intellectual superiority in these lines? Think about it. What did I want from my students, from you, and from me? Think just a little bit more and you'll be there. Ok, have you got it now.
Population Growth?
Yes, population growth!
It is sorrowfully amusing how quickly a lemming will follow. After a few short moments of what seemed to be mindless babble I had the entire class parroting "population growth." They were entirely clueless. They had figured it all out: just say the words. Then they wouldn't desist from chanting "population growth."
I think it a lamentable fact that many of us live out significant portions of our lives, and sometimes the whole, chanting "population growth" all the while remaining ignorant of what we are saying or doing. We are mockingbirds entirely, not knowing what we say.
And what's worse is that sometimes we parrot "population growth" and don't even realize it's actually a real message. In at least one case I know of, "population growth" is actually a real teaching. It's not the lunacy of a young teacher experimenting with behavior and learning in his classroom, but it is a real lesson. There is at least one case where the "population growth" message is taught, the students wrestle with it a bit and believe they have it, and then go out chanting "population growth." But they miss it. They're just parrots.
Many students guess that it's all just a game. Learn the rules. Play the game. Score a point or two. Come out the other side a winner. But what if, in the midst of the game, there is a real lesson? What if there are actually factors that affect population growth? Carrying capacity. Resources. Birth. Death. Emigration. Immigration. Predation. Competition. Disease. Natural disaster. Crowding. What if there really is immense profundity within "Population Growth" and you miss it because to you it's just a game that you've figured out already?
There was a time that I had figured out "Population Growth." I had figured the game out. And maybe even a game within the game. Was convinced I'd scored a point or two; I hadn't.
So what's the point of all this? And what is the motivation behind it? Well, to steal a bit from a confession I recently heard, part of it is vanity. Mankind is vain; I am no exception. We are wholly unlike other creatures in so many regards, but vanity is the current case in point. We believe we are the center. We are vain enough, proud enough to believe we have it figured out. Have you figured it out? Have you figured out the point of all this? What is it? Tell me what I want. None of my students today could tell me the point of the exercise. I am vain enough to consider myself a teacher, here, now. Please forgive my vanity and accept the lesson as one I am myself learning.
Think hard. What's the point? Why did I do that little experiment? And why do I relate it now with so much garble? Think now, think. Why am I gabbing about parrots and games and whatnot? Think, it'll come to you. Why must I extend such an air of intellectual superiority in these lines? Think about it. What did I want from my students, from you, and from me? Think just a little bit more and you'll be there. Ok, have you got it now.
Population Growth?
Yes, population growth!
13.10.10
Chocolate Milk.
I currently work two jobs totaling sixty five to seventy hours each week. This is not new for me. I worked the same, plus did full time classes and TA'ed two labs during the final semester of my Chemistry degree. You do what you must, right? So the hours aren't really new to me. But there is one thing that is new: job satisfaction. During all these years I've never enjoyed a job itself. Now I do, which makes my other job exponentially worse than it's ever been. So I arrived at job number two today, the bad job, and was in no particular mood to be there this afternoon. Job number one is very fulfilling for numerous reasons; job number two is merely the paycheck it has been for roughly a decade now.
I'm at number two and decide it is time for a snack. I go to the filling station and purchase some chocolate milk. And then I go back to working and thinking about matters wholly unrelated to the tasks at hand; number two is mindless. Anyways, back to the chocolate milk...
I am never any less than astounded at how great an effect chocolate milk has on my mind. Today, as I savored the dairy, chocolaty goodness, a particular colloquialism crossed my mind: "Never look a gift horse in the mouth." I am fairly certain that is how the saying goes. I've done a bit of work on a horse farm in the past few months and so it seemed a good rabbit to chase as the milk did its work.
I would guess that the idea behind the phrase is that when something is given as a gift you should gladly accept it. Seriously? Horses are really great creatures. Smart. Loyal. Neat on many levels. They also require a good deal of care because of the harm humanity has brought to the natural world. You can't just release a horse when you can no longer care for it because the world, at least not the small section I live in, is not horse friendly. Horses are not inexpensive creatures. Some are only allowed to go to new homes after several thousand, even hundreds of thousands of dollars change hands. And then there is the pastureland needed, feed, vet bills, trailers, and a new diesel pickup to get your new child home. A free horse is all well and good, but it's only free to me until it gets hungry again. Horses are like me, always hungry.
So, someone wants to give me a horse. I'm not wealthy by worldly standards. It would be nice to imagine, but I don't have the disposable income to care for the free gift. But what if I did have a bit of pocket change for feed? I would wonder why I'm being given a free horse. Has it been mistreated and the owner wants to be rid of a "bad" horse (made so by the owner; no bad horses, just bad owners) and decides no one would pay so they'll "freely" give it? Check out its mouth and see if a harsh bit has brutalized the poor equine. Unhealthy mouth may not bode well for temperament or health.
So, I think I would definitely look the gift horse in the mouth.
And you know what? As all things so often remind me of something else, so did this. It reminded me of someone telling me once to count the cost. Count the cost of integrity. Count the cost of honesty. Count the cost of patience and humility. Count the cost of selflessness, self-denial, and self-sacrifice. Consider if you can afford to entirely forget yourself. Count the cost of Leaving.
And then, consider these costs when compared to what is being purchased. Is the current sacrifice worth the reward I get later on for making said purchase?
And then an objection pops up: how can I truly count the cost when I am so young and have experienced so little? Yeah, compared with what I have done thus far in life it seems like a good deal. But what if I forfeit something that I'm absolutely unaware of? Sure, it looks affordable, looks like a good deal compared to the past, but I've no clue what the future looks like.
And then another thought pops in: commit! Man, folks are so wishy-washy these days. Non-committal. Flakey. Indecisive. Uncertain and unsure. No determination. No tenacity.
Sure, I've no clue what the future holds, nor do I have any clue what the future does not hold.
But really, folks that would say I might miss out are just folks who have chased smoke in the past and are still delusional enough to think they might have a chance of catching it if they just try a bit harder tomorrow, refine their methods, or hold their tongue a different way. Whatever? It's smoke. Can't catch it. Sounds slightly insane to me.
So, the whole thing about counting the cost and looking at horse teeth just gets really confusing, muddled. But, what if...
How about instead of considering the horse, we consider the giver? What if we follow the old advice and forget entirely about the gift's oral cavity and ask ourselves whether or not the giver would ever hoodwink us, ever pass off a secondhand gift?
I met Adria yesterday. Today, I had a great cup of coffee during my drive to number one. Would the Source give us a sick horse? Would He ever give us a gift that He has mistreated, mishandled, or abused? Doubtful!
I've just made a decision. If a man ever offers me a free horse, I'll have a cup of coffee with him before I accept the gift. Get to know the Giver a little. Find out what kind of giver he is so that I don't have to inspect the gift because, to be quite honest, I don't know as much about horses as I do about men. Or maybe it'll be chocolate milk instead of coffee. No, still not it.
I know.
I'll have both! After all, I am me.
Nuff said.
I'm at number two and decide it is time for a snack. I go to the filling station and purchase some chocolate milk. And then I go back to working and thinking about matters wholly unrelated to the tasks at hand; number two is mindless. Anyways, back to the chocolate milk...
I am never any less than astounded at how great an effect chocolate milk has on my mind. Today, as I savored the dairy, chocolaty goodness, a particular colloquialism crossed my mind: "Never look a gift horse in the mouth." I am fairly certain that is how the saying goes. I've done a bit of work on a horse farm in the past few months and so it seemed a good rabbit to chase as the milk did its work.
I would guess that the idea behind the phrase is that when something is given as a gift you should gladly accept it. Seriously? Horses are really great creatures. Smart. Loyal. Neat on many levels. They also require a good deal of care because of the harm humanity has brought to the natural world. You can't just release a horse when you can no longer care for it because the world, at least not the small section I live in, is not horse friendly. Horses are not inexpensive creatures. Some are only allowed to go to new homes after several thousand, even hundreds of thousands of dollars change hands. And then there is the pastureland needed, feed, vet bills, trailers, and a new diesel pickup to get your new child home. A free horse is all well and good, but it's only free to me until it gets hungry again. Horses are like me, always hungry.
So, someone wants to give me a horse. I'm not wealthy by worldly standards. It would be nice to imagine, but I don't have the disposable income to care for the free gift. But what if I did have a bit of pocket change for feed? I would wonder why I'm being given a free horse. Has it been mistreated and the owner wants to be rid of a "bad" horse (made so by the owner; no bad horses, just bad owners) and decides no one would pay so they'll "freely" give it? Check out its mouth and see if a harsh bit has brutalized the poor equine. Unhealthy mouth may not bode well for temperament or health.
So, I think I would definitely look the gift horse in the mouth.
And you know what? As all things so often remind me of something else, so did this. It reminded me of someone telling me once to count the cost. Count the cost of integrity. Count the cost of honesty. Count the cost of patience and humility. Count the cost of selflessness, self-denial, and self-sacrifice. Consider if you can afford to entirely forget yourself. Count the cost of Leaving.
And then, consider these costs when compared to what is being purchased. Is the current sacrifice worth the reward I get later on for making said purchase?
And then an objection pops up: how can I truly count the cost when I am so young and have experienced so little? Yeah, compared with what I have done thus far in life it seems like a good deal. But what if I forfeit something that I'm absolutely unaware of? Sure, it looks affordable, looks like a good deal compared to the past, but I've no clue what the future looks like.
And then another thought pops in: commit! Man, folks are so wishy-washy these days. Non-committal. Flakey. Indecisive. Uncertain and unsure. No determination. No tenacity.
Sure, I've no clue what the future holds, nor do I have any clue what the future does not hold.
But really, folks that would say I might miss out are just folks who have chased smoke in the past and are still delusional enough to think they might have a chance of catching it if they just try a bit harder tomorrow, refine their methods, or hold their tongue a different way. Whatever? It's smoke. Can't catch it. Sounds slightly insane to me.
So, the whole thing about counting the cost and looking at horse teeth just gets really confusing, muddled. But, what if...
How about instead of considering the horse, we consider the giver? What if we follow the old advice and forget entirely about the gift's oral cavity and ask ourselves whether or not the giver would ever hoodwink us, ever pass off a secondhand gift?
I met Adria yesterday. Today, I had a great cup of coffee during my drive to number one. Would the Source give us a sick horse? Would He ever give us a gift that He has mistreated, mishandled, or abused? Doubtful!
I've just made a decision. If a man ever offers me a free horse, I'll have a cup of coffee with him before I accept the gift. Get to know the Giver a little. Find out what kind of giver he is so that I don't have to inspect the gift because, to be quite honest, I don't know as much about horses as I do about men. Or maybe it'll be chocolate milk instead of coffee. No, still not it.
I know.
I'll have both! After all, I am me.
Nuff said.
12.10.10
Life.
So Leavers have existed much the same throughout history regardless of what continent or century they have inhabited. It's simple, really. Leave the big decisions to the gods, or God, and just live. Pretty straightforward.
Well, today I met Adria Marie King. She is the new King in town and already has more than one fella wrapped around her little finger. I got to hang out with her tonight. I have even been assigned a role in her life without her having the slightest clue who I am. I was assigned "That" role. I'll leave it to you to figure out, but it doesn't necessarily have to do with poo...
Anyways, back to my blob of a point. Life is so cool! Real Life! True Life! It is something that has its origin wholly apart from us. Adria is not the source of her own very young life. The Baby Momma and Baby Daddy are not even the Source of her little Life. I am not the SouRCe of my lIFe! Notice the odd capitalization; it is purposely done. I recently had some of my classes discuss the role and importance of Man from an ecological perspective and the thoughts we shared were intriguing indeed. We decided that in the grand scheme of our planet's ecology Man is no more important than deer or wolf or paramecium or pine tree. We all have this world as our common home. It does not belong to Man any more than it belongs to a dung beetle. And we all have Life that has been granted to us from the Source. No created thing is its own source and cannot claim responsibility for its Life.
My scholastic background is science, chemistry in particular. Lately, I've been wrestling with an enigma I had previously excused myself from understanding. I had a conversation last night and again today about the great debates between science and religion. I've never been fully satisfied with either side's arguments. Now, to be quite transparent, I am more than just slightly prideful when it comes to the life of my mind. However, I am much the realist when I take serious consideration of my many abilities; I am a novice at both science and religion; faith and reason; logic and emotion; mysticism and theology. You get the point.
I will not consider these matters in blog form at the current time because this post is about the celebration of the newest Life among my friend*family. Adria is here! Issues concerning covenant theology, evolution, creationism, and synthetic motor oils will be discussed in due time.
Adria Marie! Man, I'm gonna be in trouble if God ever entrusts a little Life to my little hands :)
Well, today I met Adria Marie King. She is the new King in town and already has more than one fella wrapped around her little finger. I got to hang out with her tonight. I have even been assigned a role in her life without her having the slightest clue who I am. I was assigned "That" role. I'll leave it to you to figure out, but it doesn't necessarily have to do with poo...
Anyways, back to my blob of a point. Life is so cool! Real Life! True Life! It is something that has its origin wholly apart from us. Adria is not the source of her own very young life. The Baby Momma and Baby Daddy are not even the Source of her little Life. I am not the SouRCe of my lIFe! Notice the odd capitalization; it is purposely done. I recently had some of my classes discuss the role and importance of Man from an ecological perspective and the thoughts we shared were intriguing indeed. We decided that in the grand scheme of our planet's ecology Man is no more important than deer or wolf or paramecium or pine tree. We all have this world as our common home. It does not belong to Man any more than it belongs to a dung beetle. And we all have Life that has been granted to us from the Source. No created thing is its own source and cannot claim responsibility for its Life.
My scholastic background is science, chemistry in particular. Lately, I've been wrestling with an enigma I had previously excused myself from understanding. I had a conversation last night and again today about the great debates between science and religion. I've never been fully satisfied with either side's arguments. Now, to be quite transparent, I am more than just slightly prideful when it comes to the life of my mind. However, I am much the realist when I take serious consideration of my many abilities; I am a novice at both science and religion; faith and reason; logic and emotion; mysticism and theology. You get the point.
I will not consider these matters in blog form at the current time because this post is about the celebration of the newest Life among my friend*family. Adria is here! Issues concerning covenant theology, evolution, creationism, and synthetic motor oils will be discussed in due time.
Adria Marie! Man, I'm gonna be in trouble if God ever entrusts a little Life to my little hands :)
Old Friends.
Last night I had dinner with an old friend. It's so pleasant to see a soul you've not seen in months, or even years, and to set to it as if no time has passed at all. We had not seen each other since early June, a few nights before I left to go on a little vacation that would set the tone for many months to follow. And as I began to tell him so many stories I paused to offer an apology, but before I could get it out he interrupted me to say that he had come to expect and enjoy my stories as they are told in a particularly unique and 'James' way.
We chatted for hours and I could not help but ponder why on earth he would listen to my obscure ramblings about creation and carbon dating and all the ways one may cook sweet potatoes. Friends are great to have. This summer I learned much about friends. I learned that communication is something that must be continually worked at and sanctified.
I have also seen Scripture live before me as I have not seen it live before this point. I have had countless little moments where the Spirit has brought to mind some truth I have heard previously, yet not fully understood. There was one interesting conversation I had with a friend and it seemed that every other word spoken by this pal brought to mind verses that showed just how much this person needs Christ. And yet the words reminded me just how much we all need Christ.
Alcoholism is a terrible disease. It's one of the only diseases that sufferers are judged for and not loved. We can love diabetics and folks with high cholesterol, but often those who suffer alcoholism are the subjects of our scorn, not our love. There is a saying among alcoholics that there are two types: alcoholics and recovering alcoholics. They are never rid of the disease, but must wrestle against it their whole lives long. I believe this is true. There are Takers and recovering Takers. There are sinners and recovering sinners. Christ came. Christ died. Christ lived. For what? So that we can recover. More than that, so that we can live. That we can be free. No longer do we have to say we are merely recovering, but that He has recovered us. We have been found and recreated, given new life. We still have the trappings of alcoholism and asthma and Taking and sinning all about us, but it is no longer the definite in our lives. We can now live as those who do not suffer from disease; we can live as Leavers and not as Takers; we can live as He lives; life is before us, not death.
Such an interesting few months I've had. I could not have planned it myself. I feel that it was a path I was more than bound to travel, it had to happen.
We chatted for hours and I could not help but ponder why on earth he would listen to my obscure ramblings about creation and carbon dating and all the ways one may cook sweet potatoes. Friends are great to have. This summer I learned much about friends. I learned that communication is something that must be continually worked at and sanctified.
I have also seen Scripture live before me as I have not seen it live before this point. I have had countless little moments where the Spirit has brought to mind some truth I have heard previously, yet not fully understood. There was one interesting conversation I had with a friend and it seemed that every other word spoken by this pal brought to mind verses that showed just how much this person needs Christ. And yet the words reminded me just how much we all need Christ.
Alcoholism is a terrible disease. It's one of the only diseases that sufferers are judged for and not loved. We can love diabetics and folks with high cholesterol, but often those who suffer alcoholism are the subjects of our scorn, not our love. There is a saying among alcoholics that there are two types: alcoholics and recovering alcoholics. They are never rid of the disease, but must wrestle against it their whole lives long. I believe this is true. There are Takers and recovering Takers. There are sinners and recovering sinners. Christ came. Christ died. Christ lived. For what? So that we can recover. More than that, so that we can live. That we can be free. No longer do we have to say we are merely recovering, but that He has recovered us. We have been found and recreated, given new life. We still have the trappings of alcoholism and asthma and Taking and sinning all about us, but it is no longer the definite in our lives. We can now live as those who do not suffer from disease; we can live as Leavers and not as Takers; we can live as He lives; life is before us, not death.
Such an interesting few months I've had. I could not have planned it myself. I feel that it was a path I was more than bound to travel, it had to happen.
11.10.10
Takers and Leavers
I've recently been given a new alarm clock. It's pretty simple to use. I go to bed at night and make sure that I am thoroughly asleep. Then the sun rises and a tribe of squirrels begins to rocket acorns towards the section of rood just above my head. It would work great as an alarm if only the squirrels could outlast my half-conscious patience. They were at it again this morning and I simply wondered their names.
So as I've already mentioned, Ismael showed me some familiar thoughts from unfamiliar angles. He really could use some help on some topics, such as his illogical construction of the idea of gods. In his mind gods make the decision of which creatures die and which live. If we shift gods to God then I can agree with that thought. However, I do not think it makes sense that his gods hold life and death in their hands, yet they cannot keep man from mucking things up. Ismael describes two peoples: Takers and Leavers. Takers have taken their lives out of the hands of the gods and into their own hands. Leavers have chosen to leave their lives in the hands of the gods. He refers to these two people groups as living out two different stories. He links things, at one point, to the creation story in Genesis, albeit with an erroneous interpretation or two.
And it is in his description of the Leavers that Ishmael begins to get something write. He defines Leavers as those who leave their lives in the hands of the gods. A little bit of the Sermon on the Mount is even pulled in and correctly so because as Jesus talks about the lilies and the sparrows we are reminded that they leave their lives in the hands of God and suffer no want, nor any worrisome thing. And this is when the words on my wrist gleam again from the light of a different angle.
Leave your life in my hands. Abide in me. Both are saying the same thing, yet in a slightly different way. When you leave something, you leave it and are done. Abiding is a can be misconstrued as something that is present, progressive, and active. However, when Christ is telling us to abide in him he draws a parallel to grapes on the vine. Grapes are doing nothing progressive or active to remain attached to the vine, they are merely and profoundly being what they are intended and purposed to be, grapes. And so to leave your life in the hands of God is nothing more than being who we are intended to be, leavers in the hands of a good God
So as I've already mentioned, Ismael showed me some familiar thoughts from unfamiliar angles. He really could use some help on some topics, such as his illogical construction of the idea of gods. In his mind gods make the decision of which creatures die and which live. If we shift gods to God then I can agree with that thought. However, I do not think it makes sense that his gods hold life and death in their hands, yet they cannot keep man from mucking things up. Ismael describes two peoples: Takers and Leavers. Takers have taken their lives out of the hands of the gods and into their own hands. Leavers have chosen to leave their lives in the hands of the gods. He refers to these two people groups as living out two different stories. He links things, at one point, to the creation story in Genesis, albeit with an erroneous interpretation or two.
And it is in his description of the Leavers that Ishmael begins to get something write. He defines Leavers as those who leave their lives in the hands of the gods. A little bit of the Sermon on the Mount is even pulled in and correctly so because as Jesus talks about the lilies and the sparrows we are reminded that they leave their lives in the hands of God and suffer no want, nor any worrisome thing. And this is when the words on my wrist gleam again from the light of a different angle.
Leave your life in my hands. Abide in me. Both are saying the same thing, yet in a slightly different way. When you leave something, you leave it and are done. Abiding is a can be misconstrued as something that is present, progressive, and active. However, when Christ is telling us to abide in him he draws a parallel to grapes on the vine. Grapes are doing nothing progressive or active to remain attached to the vine, they are merely and profoundly being what they are intended and purposed to be, grapes. And so to leave your life in the hands of God is nothing more than being who we are intended to be, leavers in the hands of a good God
10.10.10
Take.Leave.
I often say things that really don't make sense to the audience. Usually, I have to explain what I mean, which is not a bad thing because I enjoy speaking. My friends would say I am quite at home giving lengthy explanations of things that are often matters of little to no consequence.
There was someone who once taught others how to speak. He told them that questions should always be answered with the fewest words possible. That's a terrible thing to hear if you're one of the words who gets chopped simple because an orator wishes to be concise. I, on the other hand, feel that one should use as many words as possible. I say this with tongue in cheek. One must always exercise discernment.
I will eventually get to the point of this post, but not quite yet. Indeed, many readers would thank me if I would simply come to the point, but if I do it too quickly then the reader will not have earned my meaning. Why tell someone something they can figure out for him or herself? So I feel that if anyone is willing to labor through all the meaninglessness in hopes of gaining the meaningful, then then the reward will be had by the deserving.
I have one friend who I feel will be faithful to read this blog, even if only occasionally, which I guess would draw into question my understanding of the word faithful. However, he knows who he is and I am certain he will appreciate being one of the few in mind as I type away on this tiny keyboard.
I am not always blessed with eloquence in communication, at least not as regards the thoughts others would consider personal. I do not mean those things we keep as secrets from the world at large, but merely the ideas that make me me and make you you. Another way of saying this is that I can more easily explain a principle of chemistry or a tenant from a systematic theology in a manner that is understandable and transferable for another, but often have trouble bringing someone inside that they may see my thoughts through my eyes and grapple with me-hood the way I do.
I recently read Ishmael by Daniel Quinn. It was a provocative read and perhaps you will read it. The teacher in the story describes two types of people: Takers and Leavers. I have not developed my thoughts about Takers and Leavers to their end, but I have begun.
I have something on my wrist. It will always be there. Most people cannot read it. It is all Greek to them. It is a quotation. Quinn's Ishmael gives yet another angle of meaning to these words. The quotation on my wrist is from someone famous. He said to abide in him. Ishmael says that I should live in the hands of the gods. Ishmael did not have it all figured out. Some of his logic was off, or ill. However, truth, wherever found, is true by default.
Sometimes we hear something so many times that we lose its meaning. If it be a true statement then it never loses its meaning; we do. I had heard something over and over and allowed myself to lose its meaning. Then Ishmael said it in a different way, though not his intention at all, and perhaps only because I read into his words what was not there I have remembered the statements meaning as if having only just heard it for the first time.
That's all.
There was someone who once taught others how to speak. He told them that questions should always be answered with the fewest words possible. That's a terrible thing to hear if you're one of the words who gets chopped simple because an orator wishes to be concise. I, on the other hand, feel that one should use as many words as possible. I say this with tongue in cheek. One must always exercise discernment.
I will eventually get to the point of this post, but not quite yet. Indeed, many readers would thank me if I would simply come to the point, but if I do it too quickly then the reader will not have earned my meaning. Why tell someone something they can figure out for him or herself? So I feel that if anyone is willing to labor through all the meaninglessness in hopes of gaining the meaningful, then then the reward will be had by the deserving.
I have one friend who I feel will be faithful to read this blog, even if only occasionally, which I guess would draw into question my understanding of the word faithful. However, he knows who he is and I am certain he will appreciate being one of the few in mind as I type away on this tiny keyboard.
I am not always blessed with eloquence in communication, at least not as regards the thoughts others would consider personal. I do not mean those things we keep as secrets from the world at large, but merely the ideas that make me me and make you you. Another way of saying this is that I can more easily explain a principle of chemistry or a tenant from a systematic theology in a manner that is understandable and transferable for another, but often have trouble bringing someone inside that they may see my thoughts through my eyes and grapple with me-hood the way I do.
I recently read Ishmael by Daniel Quinn. It was a provocative read and perhaps you will read it. The teacher in the story describes two types of people: Takers and Leavers. I have not developed my thoughts about Takers and Leavers to their end, but I have begun.
I have something on my wrist. It will always be there. Most people cannot read it. It is all Greek to them. It is a quotation. Quinn's Ishmael gives yet another angle of meaning to these words. The quotation on my wrist is from someone famous. He said to abide in him. Ishmael says that I should live in the hands of the gods. Ishmael did not have it all figured out. Some of his logic was off, or ill. However, truth, wherever found, is true by default.
Sometimes we hear something so many times that we lose its meaning. If it be a true statement then it never loses its meaning; we do. I had heard something over and over and allowed myself to lose its meaning. Then Ishmael said it in a different way, though not his intention at all, and perhaps only because I read into his words what was not there I have remembered the statements meaning as if having only just heard it for the first time.
That's all.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)