nightly bookend

before i went to bed the other nite, i decided to quickly take a picture of my bedside table (i think a bedside table says much about a person--it's the things that happen right before one goes to sleep and right after one wakes up that bookend your daily tromp). my bedside table configuration changes daily (i'm thinking of taking a picture every nite to see the progression), and this evening proved to be telling.

this picture represents the two things i'm working toward in the next few weeks/months:

first, pray for china during the olympics...the persecution is staggering. to get one of these bracelets go to voice of the martyrs. for a small donation to a great ministry (thanks mom), you can have one too.

second, yes i'm seriously considering it: vote for someone who can't possibly lose (even if the popular vote is for someone else). He is sure not to disappoint.

oh, wait...

we can't forget this little gem....this one i'm starting tonite (i'll let you know how it goes):

(environmental stewardship in the Judeo-Christian tradition)

reading and toes

the toes are a bit icky i agree. but the book? well, that's a different story altogether....

The Naked Seed

My heart is empty. All the fountains that should run
With longing, are in me
Dried up. In all my countryside there is not one
That drips to find the sea.
I have no care for anything thy love can grant
Except the moment’s vain
And hardly noticed filling of the moment’s want
And to be free from pain.
Oh, thou that art unwearying, that dost neither sleep
Nor slumber, who didst take
All care for Lazarus in the careless tomb, oh keep
Watch for me till I wake.
If thou think for me what I cannot think, if thou
Desire for me what I
Cannot desire, my soul’s interior Form, though now
Deep-buried, will not die,
— No more than the insensible dropp’d seed which grows
Through winter ripe for birth
Because, while it forgets, the heaven remembering throws
Sweet influence still on earth,
— Because the heaven, moved moth-like by thy beauty, goes
Still turning round the earth.

c. s. lewis

a seed

"the disposition...to leave the dearest objects of our hearts in the sublime keeping of the general and unspecific belief that GOD is now answering our prayers in His own time and way, and in the best manner, involves a present process of inward crucifixion which is obviously unfavorable to the growth and even the existence of the life of self."

t. c. upham

quick words

"for the word of God is quick, and powerful, and sharper than any twoedged sword, piercing even to the dividing asunder of soul and spirit, and of the joints and marrow, and is a discerner of the thoughts and intents of the heart." hebrews 4:12

i always viewed the Bible as a lifeless book full of promises apparently meant for other people. where was all this "quickness" that was so life altering? what was it about GOD's promises that made the george mullers of the world test their limits? something in me wanted to prick GOD's word just to see if it would bleed.

it does. there are times when i find myself cutting my name it it's pages, and every time it oozes enormous drops of redemption.

multi colored wisdom

"he that breaks a thing to find out what it is has left the path of wisdom." -gandalf

spoken after saruman declares his disdain for his former rank of "white." "white light can be broken," he says, to which gandalf replies: "in which case it is no longer white." which begs the question: is there value in "breaking a thing?" as an artist of sorts, my first reaction is: no! you destroy the artistry and impact of a thing by breaking it down into its strands of DNA; but the scientist in me (of which i must confess is *not* legion) says: but the strands of DNA are equally as beautiful as the body they compose. let's consider our town shall we? a beautiful treatise on the complex appreciation of simplicity. am i aided in my appreciation of the "live every moment" theme by understanding each character's individual lines? when i follow the spine of emily's development as a human, and my own identification with her plight (simple though it may be), am i more satisfied with my our town experience? (is the fact that i'm even having this schizophrenic, sybil-like dialogue with myself an indication that "breaking a thing" is indeed profitable?) yes, i have to admit, it makes the overall aesthetic experience more satisfying. i can step away from the analysis, sit in my seat and revel in the message thru salty tears. but what happens if i define that aesthetic experience only by it's component parts? what if i "watson and crick" emily's double helix? what if when i sit and observe our town (note: i used the action of the scientific method) am i only amused or wryly facinated by the helixy curve of her character's spine thru my electron microscope? it seems to be less of a satisfying experience. it lacks artisty as only a distant observation of the adenine, cytosine, guanine and thymine that form the building blocks of the play.

so, do i agree with gandalf? yes: to break a thing (and leave it broken) is most definitely folly. and no: to break a thing (and put it back together) is wisdom. white light broken is many colored (and saruman of many colors is definitely not what i'm going for here), but who would want to miss the varietal shades that make up white?

summering

1. a little-lady bird built her nest in my garage last week when i left the door open. do i leave the door open and let her finish, or do i keep the door closed so she won't be lured into a hopeless situation?

2. to get a screen for my windows or not? the aforementioned little-lady bird tried to fly in the house the other day. she was perched on the window sill trying to tell me she needed in the garage to finish her nest.

3. i can get in a good swing at the park if i use "american pie" as my time-guide: all 8 minutes and 28 seconds of it.

4. the library is a wealth of words. how can one get bored when there are still words to be read in the world i ask you!

5. the library is also a wealth of documentary dvds: i await the medici family (it is the original "family" after all).

“no doubt, if we’d had our minds on our job when we were at the ruinous city, we’d have been shown how--found a little door, or a cave, or a tunnel, met someone to help us. might have been (you never know) Aslan himself. we’d have got down under those paving-stones somehow or other. Aslan’s instructions always work: there are no exceptions.”

--the silver chair

i’ve been reading james of late--such a vast book for only five chapters. chapter four has been on my mind perpetually. i tend to skip past the first few verses to get to “you have not because you ask not.” i park there, try to “work it out,” and then get upset with GOD because He seems to break His promise in my circumstance. i decide there is no way i am “asking amiss” to “consume it upon my lusts.” after all, i’m not lusting after anything....right? so, where does the warring come from? from my desire for my own way. from wanting what i don’t currently have. and what does that lead to? asking amiss. so, maybe the thing i pray for isn’t wrong, but could the thing i want be my last ditch effort to escape from the thing that i really am “consuming upon my lusts?” possibly. definitely in my circumstance. my mom always says that God has to peel away the layers in order to get to the heart of the issue (see dragon-eustace having his scales torn away until he emerges a tender peeled switch). when God’s working on the current one, we forget about the numerous layers beneath, and how the outside one is not the ultimate issue, but merely a symptom of an overall dragon-problem.

“but He gives more grace”

just up the street

today the tree got a new home outdoors. here is its first taste of fresh air and sunshine in two weeks:


getting ready to be covered with yummy midwestern soil:




happy january tree:

ebenezer

yet this remains love's plea:
"i won't let the Creator break His promise to me.
a great pledge, sealed and signed, to me was given,
a charter of rights in perpetuity."

rabindranath tagore
"i won't let you go"

like most people, when i make a promise, i try my best to keep it. but there are times when one thing drives out another, and the pledge is driven out with the another. blame it on human nature. blame it on me. blame it on the rain. imperfection vainly striving to produce perfection.

my friends will tell you i'm forgetful. i've never been able to remember my PIN number for my ATM card no matter how many times they have to send me a new one, or the date my credit card bill is due, or my students names from last year. but there are advantages to forgetfulness: i don't remember the inane things i uttered in class last semester, or (apparently) my encounter with a girl who wanted to beat the stuffing out of me in high school. these are things i wouldn't deem worth remembering.

but not Him. not the eternal Promiser. i find great comfort in the two edged sword of remembering. He never forgets a promise made or a forgiveness offered. while i'm struggling to remember why i stacked these rocks here (and why i made them so darn tall), He is whispering in my ear of promises made as i hospital cornered the sheets on my bed in hell.

and so i won't let the Creator go, even if in this fog i forget.

adopt a tree

some of you may remember the orphaned tree we recycled last year at christmas. we rescued it from early recyling at the local tree recyling center. this year we trumped that event. a week before the big day we were scanning the aisles at anthropologie and my mother noticed the "adopt a tree" sign in the foyer. we inquired. we adopted. and just two days later, boarded a truck for the reunion.

you may notice it's a little imperfect with a jaunty tilt to one side, and uneven limbs; but the little birds feel right at home in it. (which one of us isn't a little imperfect with a jaunty tilt to one side?)

the best part of this story is that this is a live tree. not a live, cut tree of the ordinary kind, but the real balled-and-burlaped deal. the kind you put in the ground. the kind that needs water to survive. the kind you can visit for years to come.

we will visit this one and say a friendly hello.

today's treasure

just found this in my desk.
very jetsonian....

a consortium of whistle-pigs

adam decided to practice a little art on my sweet potatoes. (note: it looks as if one of them had a little accident whilst pondering the action of the next photograph.)



out of necessity, i practiced a little science on them next. notice the proper tools, clean cut, apron, and interesting interior of the subject.





they were delicious.

happy christmasing to you all.

סלה

selah