voyage of the dawn treader

My fall semester is finally finished, and my energies are sufficiently recovered to attempt blogging once more. I took an entire courseload of upper division English classes this semester, which involved hundreds of thousands of pages of reading and wheelbarrows full of writing. This semester I read so many classics and so many interesting things, but what was the point, really? In the end, are these stories just stories? Did I spend a semester being entertained? Earning literary bragging rights? Of course not!

I recently watched The Voyage of the Dawn Treader, and the final scene really made an impact on me, because it described so well what I feel about my role as a lover of language and literature. In the end, Edmond chooses to leave Narnia. When Lucy protests, "But I thought you loved Narnia!" Edmond replies, "I do, but our place is in our world." Aslan confirms this observation by saying, "This was the very reason why you were brought to Narnia, that by knowing me here for a little, you may know me better there."

Why do we read fantasies (my favorite kind of stories)? Not to merely be entertained, but to learn a lesson in the fantasy world that can make us wiser for our lives in this world. The devoted service and undaunted courage of Reepicheep, the painful sanctification of Eustace, the lessons of leadership learned by Caspian and Edmond, the lessons of identity learned by Lucy, the powerful struggle between good and evil--all these elements of Dawn Treader's fantasy world have an immediate correlation in our world. And this is why good stories are important.

One of my heroes is G.K. Chesterton, and I recently discovered this quote of his: ‎"Fairy tales are more than true: not because they tell us that dragons exist, but because they tell us that dragons can be beaten."

So go, read a fairy tale, rejoice in the story, and don't forget to come down from your peak of inspiration, bringing your revelation to bear on those around you in your everyday life.

a snapshot of life

While completing the last of my 400-plus pages of reading assigned over the weekend, I was deliciously surprised by the introduction to one of the stories issued for my detective fiction class. The plot of the actual mystery itself was somewhat subpar, but the introduction was (perhaps only to my sleepy and print-weary brain) an excellent and humorous rendering of a frame story. I present to you excerpts from the beginning of the story.

The Haunted Policeman
by Dorothy L. Sayers

"GOOD GOD!" said his lordship. "Did I do that?"
"All the evidence points that way," replied his wife.
"Then I can only say that I never knew so convincing a body of evidence produce such an inadequate result."
The nurse appeared to take this reflection personally. She said in a tone of rebuke: "He's a beautiful boy."
"H'm," said Peter. He adjusted his eyeglass carefully. "Well, you're the expert witness. Hand him over."
The nurse did so, with a dubious air. She was relieved to see that this disconcerting parent handled the child competently; as, in a man who was an experienced uncle, was not, after all, so very surprising. Lord Peter sat down gingerly on the bed.
"Do you feel it's up to standard?" he inquired with some anxiety. "Of course, your workmanship's always sound--but you never know with these collaborate efforts."
"I think it'll do," said Harriet.
"Good." He turned abruptly to the nurse. "All right; we'll keep it. Take it and put it away, and tell 'em to invoice me. It's a very interesting addition to you, Harriet; but it would have been a hell of a rotten substitute." His voice wavered a little, for in the last twenty-four hours he had had the fright of his life.
The doctor, who had been doing something in the other room, entered in time to catch the last words.
"There was never any likelihood of that, you goop," he said, cheerfully. "Now, you've seen all there is to be seen, and you'd better run away and play." He led his charge firmly to the door. "Go to bed," he advised him in kindly accents; "you look all in."
"I'm all right," said Peter. "I haven't been doing anything. And look here--" He stabbed a belligerent finger in the direction of the adjoining room. "Tell those nurses of yours, if I want to pick my son up, I'll pick him up. If his mother wants to kiss him, she can kiss him. I'll have none of your infernal hygiene in my house."
"Very well," said the doctor, "just as you like. Anything for a quiet life. I rather believe in a few healthy germs myself. Builds up resistance. No, thanks, I won't have a drink. I've got to go to another one, and an alcoholic breath impairs confidence."
"Another one?" said Peter, aghast.
"One of my hospital mothers. You're not the only fish in the sea by a long chalk. One born every minute."
"God! What a world." They passed down the great curved stair. In the hall a sleepy footman clung, yawning, to his post of duty.
"All right, William," said Peter. "Buzz off now; I'll lock up." He let the doctor out. "Good night--and thanks very much, old man. I'm sorry I swore at you."
"They mostly do," replied the doctor philosophically. "Well, bung-ho, Flim. I'll look in again later, just to earn my fee, but I shan't be wanted. You've married into a good tough family, and I congratulate you."

It was thus that [Peter] saw the policeman.
"Morning, officer."
"Morning, sir."
"I've got a son."
"Oh, ah! Your first, eh?"
"And last, if I know anything about it."

on bloggers who never post anything new

I struggle to maintain this blog for a variety of reasons. I could point my finger at time management. I could say that I'm simply too busy with class, campus ministries, RA responsibilities, choir, volleyball, jumping in puddles and being a sage. That is partly true, but mostly a lame excuse for lack of discipline and sound priorities. I won't appeal to lack of time. I could plead for mercy on the grounds that I have nothing to share. That is also not true. I am brimming with musty thoughts, caked in dust and mothballs, with discovered quotes and personal epiphanies, with pointless drivel, and with the occasional profound witticism.

It seems that my problem (an inconvenient problem for a young writer, to say the least) is that I am unsure of how to approach general audiences. The true application of my soul is in personal interaction. In the past few days, I have talked hermeneutics and practical applications of scripture with a dear friend. I have shared meaningful quotes in conversations, Bible studies, emails, and old-fashioned letters. I have sought out a lonely luncher and I have read an inspiring book. I have giggled in pure joy at the thought and smell and taste of approaching autumn. And here I am, before my cyber-audience, and my exuberance falters. What to say that will reach everyone, or at least a justifiable percentage of everyone? How can I possibly condense the rich three-dimensional things that I love about life into a sardine can of a blog post? Or should I try? Will others roll back the lid to find... sardines? This dilemma effectively quashes my creative spirit and sends me in search of another, less perplexing and more rewarding adventure.

It's not that I don't care about you all. I regularly write letters and have phone conversations with most of you. I'll get to the rest of you as soon as I discover my muse. In the mean time, if this blog means anything to you, please have patience while I search for just the right things to share with you. Stories, perhaps--half crafted ones with imprecise punctuation and just the right texture that feels like real life. Verses, maybe, or good quotes which find their way into my quote journal that smells like leather and book stores. Public service announcements, news alerts, hodge podge, cartoons, and other such miscellany. Excuse me while I search.

crazy love

Sometimes I am going about my daily life when I hear a random comment. It seems like a small thing at first, but after a few days have gone by, that comment is still leaping through my mind, bouncing off its walls, bringing itself continuously to my attention. This summer I aimed to embed those kinds of thoughts in my campers' minds--relevant thoughts about Christ that would grab hold of them and wouldn't leave them alone, that would prompt them to ask more questions and examine Christianity for themselves even after they left camp.

Lately my involuntary obsession has been with extravagant love. In my various roles as servant leader, I want to love those I serve with the same extravagance that God loved me. Like the father's prodigal love for his prodigal son--so unexpectedly lavish, so generous, and so completely and genuinely absorbed in joy for another. Like the love of the shepherd who left his ninety-nine sheep to look for the one who was lost--bold, perhaps seemingly imprudent in its unrestrained dedication. Like the God who gave up his son to save my soul--the most unexpected of all methods, the most self-sacrificial, the most extravagant. This year, I want to love that way.

While God was calling my attention to this aspect of his character and urging me to imitate it, a friend read one of the following quotes to me. I am convinced that I cannot love others extravagantly unless I love the Lord just as extravagantly. The following are mostly unrelated quotes from a book by Francis Chan called Crazy Love. If you can, take a bit of time to let these sink in.
I have taken the liberty of emphasizing certain phrases.

“What scares me most are the people who are lukewarm and just don't care. I think that if I did a poll of the readers of this book, many of you would say, ‘Yeah, I am definitely lukewarm at times, but I’m not really at a place to give more to God.’ Many of us believe we have as much of God as we want right now, a reasonable portion of God among all the other things in our lives. Most of our thoughts are centered on the money we want to make, the school we want to attend, the body we aspire to have, the spouse we want to marry, the kind of person we want to become. But the fact is that nothing should concern us more than our relationship with God; it's about eternity, and nothing compares with that. God is not someone who can be tacked on to our lives.”

“The average Christian in the United States spends ten minutes per day with God; meanwhile, the average American spends over four hours a day watching television. Perhaps TV is not your thing-maybe you don't even own one. But how about your time and your resources? How much of your money is spent on yourself, and how much is directed toward God's kingdom? How much of your time is dedicated to pursuing your life and your goals, and how much is focused on God's work and purposes?”


“Walking in genuine intimacy and full surrender to God requires great faith."
Hebrews 11:6 says, “Without faith it is impossible to please God, because anyone who comes to him must believe that he exists and that he rewards those who earnestly seek him”
“Back when I was in Bible College, a professor asked our class, ‘What are you doing right now that requires faith?’ That question affected me deeply because, at the time, I could think of nothing in my life that required faith. I probably wouldn't be living very differently if I didn't believe in God; my life was neither ordered nor affected by my faith - like I had assumed it was. Furthermore, when I looked around, I realized I was surrounded by people who lived the same way I did. Life is comfortable when you separate yourself from people who are different from you. That epitomizes what my life was like: characterized by comfort. But God doesn't call us to be comfortable. He calls us to trust Him so completely that we are unafraid to put ourselves in situations where we will be in trouble if He doesn't come through.”

end-of summer musings

I recently arrived back home after an incredible experience counseling teens at summer camp. In just eight weeks I learned so many lessons about the Lord, about childhood and adulthood, about self-sacrifice, about the heartrending brokenness of the world and about the power of Christ's healing and all-encompassing love for the searching and distraught. My faith was strengthened and my spirit encouraged through godly fellowship, and I was incredibly rewarded through pouring my heart out in ministry to scores of junior high- and high-schoolers. It was the best summer of my life.

As great as my summer was, it had to end at some point. When I returned home, I was blessed by meaningful time with my family and friends before heading back to school. Very soon, the day came when my family packed our things in the car and embarked on a four-day journey cross-country. Ah, the classic American road trip.

There is a certain wild and unexpected beauty to road trips that tugs at my faintly romantic and old-fashioned heart. While flying is convenient and dominant, traveling by car or by rail is often my preference. In my mind, any trip is just as much about the journey as it is about the destination. Consider this:

Day two of our cross-country road trip began with with a brief side trip through the Little Bighorn battlefield. How grave it was to behold land that had once been the scene of bloodshed! The ordinary-looking gullies and hills were inevitably cast in the light of battle, and each white or red stone in the blowing and sun-bathed grass marked the site where a man thought his final thoughts before he died--a man with a story, with struggles, with loves and dreams. A healthy imagination transformed a possibly mundane trip to college into a significant glimpse into two nations' histories.

My hours of road time logged with energetic campers this summer molded me into a treasure trove of riddles and minute mysteries and simple games that pass the time. We laughed and schemed for hours (occasionally pausing to remark on the psychological and historical significance of the thousands of Harleys en route to the Sturgis motorcycle rally) and discussed any and all odd topics that sprung to our minds. Despite the inevitable discomfort of hours in the car, I look back and remember lots of good-natured laughter and joking. Make the most of necessary down time--that's a lesson I learned well this summer.

In the afternoon we made another side trip--this time through the Badlands in South Dakota: a striking arid region that inspired much interesting conversation. We traveled small highways nearly as often as we traveled interstate, thus getting a flavor of every community we passed. It was an incredible way to tap into the nature of this expansive country of ours. Day three of the trip brought not only a powerful electrical storm and the most brilliant rainbows I have ever seen,


but also a check mark to my bucket list with my first ever sighting of lightning bugs! Each night, like a child, I am struck again by the magic of fireflies.

I am currently in the middle of RA training. Part of that involves diving into the job, welcoming incoming students and their families, getting them on their feet, answering questions, and helping them move in as efficiently and with as little stress as possible. I have carried more boxes and TVs and microwaves, dispensed more keys, and connected with more people in three days than I really imagined. And right now we only have a fraction of early-arrivals in the apartment building! Ah, for the two great move-in days when new transfers and returning upperclassmen arrive in one giant crash. Huzzah!

Tonight we run our timed mile as a volleyball team, kicking off our pre-season three-a-day practices. Soon I'll be training for campus ministries, leading freshmen through orientation, beginning my upper division English classes, working in the financial aid office, leading a couple different bible study groups, and intentionally ministering to the thirty girls on my floor. Whew--what a lot of things to accomplish! I guess that in life, as in road trips, it's better to think less about destinations; it's better to make a careful itinerary and then get caught up in the surprising blessings and joys that can be found while puttering along the way.

a word about joy

I recently received as a gift the book Desiring God, by John Piper. I have been reading a chapter each morning over a bowl of granola and an apple. This morning I completed a chapter discussing the role of joy in true Christian worship, and I thought the points made were powerful and relevant. Piper begins with the following analogy:

"If I take my wife out for the evening on our anniversary and she asks me, 'Why do you do this?' the answer that honors her most is 'Because nothing makes me happier tonight than to be with you.'
"'It's my duty' is a dishonor to her.
"'It's my joy' is an honor.
"There it is! The feast of Christian Hedonism. How shall we honor God in worship? By saying, 'It's my duty'? Or by saying, 'It's my joy'?"

Most Christians today, Piper argues, have traded a sense of joy and childlike wonder for a sense of religious duty. He urges them to delight themselves in the Lord, rediscovering the supreme happiness that can and should be derived from true worship. In discussing the modern understanding of joy, Piper presents a well-known quote from C.S. Lewis' "The Weight of Glory."

"If there lurks in most modern minds the notion that to desire our own good and earnestly to hope for the enjoyment of it is a bad thing, I submit that this notion has crept in from Kant and the Stoics and is no part of the Christian faith. Indeed, if we consider the unblushing promises of reward and the staggering nature of the rewards promised in the Gospels, it would seem that our Lord finds our desires, not too strong, but too weak. We are half-hearted creatures, fooling about with drink and sex and ambition when infinite joy is offered us, like an ignorant child who wants to go on making mud pies in a slum because he cannot imagine what is meant by the offer of a holiday at the sea. We are far too easily pleased."

"That's it!", Piper continues, "The enemy of worship is not that our desire for pleasure is too strong, but too weak! We have settled for a home, a family, a few friends, a job, a television, a microwave oven, an occasional night out, a yearly vacation, and perhaps a new personal computer. We have accustomed ourselves to such meager, short-lived pleasures that our capacity for joy has shriveled. And so our worship has shriveled. Many can scarcely imagine what is meant by 'a holiday at the sea'--worshiping the living God!"

Jeremiah 2:11-13 addresses this same problem: "My people have changed their glory for that which does not profit. Be appalled, O heavens, at this; be shocked, be utterly desolate, declares the Lord, for my people have committed two evils: they have forsaken me, the fountain of living waters, and hewed out cisterns for themselves, broken cisterns that can hold no water."

Perhaps another of Piper's analogies will speak more to you: "The irony of our human condition is that God has put us within sight of the Himalayas of His glory in Jesus Christ, but we have chosen to pull down the shades of our chalet and show slides of Buck Hill--even in church.

"You have capacities for joy that you can scarcely imagine. They were made for the enjoyment of God," that is, for true worship.

snapshot of the day:

Can I just say that I love where I live?

A friend and I had the good fortune to stumble across this pair while driving (thankfully not while hiking), so we could safely sit and just watch them for a while. The lil' guy was obviously having some trouble with his long spindly legs, and wobbled and hopped and fell over while his mum was trying to coax him off the road. We, of course, were in no hurry, and savored our time crossing paths with the family.

a matter of perspective

I am sure you have seen this image before. It is known as the necker cube, an optical illusion in which the orientation of the cube seems to switch before your eyes. As you focus on the shape, you can't quite be sure which side is nearest you. Is the blue side in the back of the transparent cube, or in the front? You aren't exactly certain which perspective is real, and which is imagined.

The area of geometry is not the only one where perspective is both important and rather ambiguous. A little while ago I attended the last Sunday night devotional of the spring semester, and I left that night with something that has echoed continually in my mind for more than two weeks and has inspired self-examination after self-examination.

"You do not have a soul. You are a soul. You have a body."
-C.S. Lewis

"We are not physical beings having a spiritual experience, but spiritual beings having a physical experience."
-Pierre Teilhard de Chardin

Stop and think about those quotes for a minute. Reread them, if you need to.

If these statements are true, than most Christians, myself included, have woefully diminished the power of their faith. Instead of letting our relationship with God engulf every aspect of our lives, we have confined our relationship with God to a mere aspect of our lives. I am afraid this manifests itself in every imaginable way. Do you snap at your husband or sister or mother because they have violated your right to a comfortable moment in life? Or do you serve your husband or sister or mother because this life is a perfect opportunity to mold your eternal soul into something more like Christ? In choosing a close friend or a girlfriend or boyfriend--do you select someone who would make your life more fun, who would provide you with wealth or emotional security, or do you choose someone whose soul has the same focus as yours? This matter of perspective, one that I wish I had learned long ago, makes all the difference in the world.

Today I read C.S. Lewis' A Grief Observed. In his characteristic use of startlingly excellent metaphors, Lewis compares his wife to a sword. After her death, he remarks, "'She is in God's hand.' That gains a new energy when I think of her as a sword. Perhaps the earthly life I shared with her was only a part of the tempering. Now perhaps He grasps the hilt; weighs the new weapon; makes lightnings with it in the air. 'A right Jerusalem blade.'"

If this earthly life is truly a tempering of our souls, then every experience will make its mark on our swordly soul. If we forget that this life is merely a tempering process, if we get caught up in this world and forget that our ultimate aim is to become a noble sword, the end result can be neither useful nor beautiful. This tempering--though undeniably important--is not all there is. This physical life is not all there is. It is merely a phase in the life of the eternal soul. How tragic it would be to live this life without serious attention to our souls, and in the end offer to Christ only a woefully ruined sword.

an update on life

To the readers of this post: you are the type of people who sit in the theater and watch all of the credits to the very end, aren't you? The ones who will watch name after name scroll up the screen while high school employees stand to one side and impatiently wait for you to leave so they can sweep up popcorn in preparation for the next movie. You may not like to admit it, but if you are still here on this long-inactive blog, you definitely qualify as the movie-credit-lurking type.

These days I have been filling my time with incredible things--like homework and baseball games and bonfires and homework and friends and singing. Right now I am taking a study break, listening to music from the 90's, thinking of eating an orange, and am eagerly anticipating our dress rehearsal tonight for tomorrow's spring works performance with the rest of the concert choir. I also feel that an update is in order, because some of you have been asking.

First, my summer plans. For those of you who haven't heard, I will be spending most of my summer in Washington, working at a summer camp. I have the incredible opportunity to take multiple groups of 13-16 year olds hiking and backpacking for nearly two months. I am extremely excited, not only to live in the wilderness for most of the summer, but also to spend time fellowshipping with fellow Christians and shining the light of Christ's love to my campers. I'm not sure that I'll be able to post anything at all during those weeks, so if you are going to stay around, I'd recommend going and buying some more popcorn, because the credits will be rolling for a while.

After I return from Washington, I will head directly back to school for RA training! Against nearly impossible odds, I was offered a position as a resident assistant in the women's apartments. I was expecting to be consigned to the dungeon-like dorms once more, but instead I filled the one open position in the apartments. Hooray! After RA training, the dreaded pre-season three-a-days begin, under a new volleyball coach. After two weeks of near constant pre-season practices, classes will begin. I am taking a full course load of only upper-division English classes, which will certainly be interesting. I suspect I'll be able to read novels and write papers in my sleep by the end of next semester. In addition to these responsibilities, I have also been honored to accept a position on the Campus Ministries staff. As part of the staff, I will lead Bible studies, organize campus devotionals and chapels, be mentored in spiritual leadership, and encourage faltering or searching students. These and a few other responsibilities will certainly keep me on my toes next semester, but I believe each of these roles will help me grow into the woman of God that I would like to be.

And now it's back to studying. An unfortunate way to spend a blustery Sunday afternoon, but sometimes it must be done. And you--away, before the high school employee sweeps you into the trash, intentionally mistaking you for a large piece of discarded popcorn.

snippets of life

Tonight as I sit here, staring out of my head, I realize that my mind is a pretty busy place. There's a lot going on in there lately. Many of my thoughts tonight are fully developed, but uninteresting, such as my uneasy and recurrent calculations as to the probability of making a good grade on my test tomorrow morning, such as the theological implications of the doctrine of infant baptism (guess whose homework I engaged with this afternoon, besides my own?), such as my schedule for this week, etc. Other thoughts are less developed, but more blog-worthy, such as my recent mission trip to inner city Nashville.

Oh, but wait, there's more.

I was painting my toenails just now when my eyes wandered to an inflamed-looking gash near my ankle. Would you like to know the sound that outright lameness makes when it comes to dishing up some fresh fruit at lunch? It sounds much like a bowl would sound as it smashes to smithereens on the floor of a cafeteria. My information comes from reliable sources. I have also been informed that gashes inflicted by leaping shards of broken bowls are nasty things, as are wiggly little slivers of ceramic that wind up inside church shoes.

And the smell of outright ridiculousness? That would be the gently wafting scent of basil... coming from a freshly opened bag of M&M's. Perhaps next time I should consider storing my chocolate somewhere other than directly beneath my dried herbs. As unique as the experience of herbed M&M's is, I can safely say this is a culinary achievement I will probably avoid in the future.

Finally, the feeling of outright elation--I hope you all feel it as much as I do. In my experience, it usually accompanies emails from grandmothers, long runs with friends, letters from family, phone conversations with my favorite people (I've had lots of those lately), and inside jokes with dear friends.

And... weather forecasts including numbers starting with 7. For example, "Tuesday: high of 72," and "Wednesday: high of 75."

Ah... spring is finally here, embarrassing gashes heal quickly and cooks forgive readily, herbed M&M's are not so bad, and life is good.

words to know: 2010

We interrupt this ridiculous month-long silence for a word from your author.

Here we are, three months into 2010. By now you should have had ample time to settle into the new order of things, so I will ask: is there anything lacking? Perhaps your bland new year needs to be peppered with a supplemental vocabulary. Allow me to advance a few suggestions.

Huzzah! interjection. This is a particularly rousing little word that is perfect for any of your exclamatory uses. I recommend it in near-idiotic amounts. For example. "Huzzah! They have feta cheese in the salad bar today!" In any setting in which you feel elation, however inappropriate, a resounding "Huzzah!" may just be in order.

Shenaniganizing. perversion. Acting in a devious or mischievous manner. While the more traditional shenanigan is rather satisfying, nothing is quite so fulfilling as shouting, "Hey, you! Stop that shenaniganizing right this instant. You hooligan." Hooligan is another word to know in 2010, and can be quite tastefully paired with shenaniganizing.

Rapscallion. noun. A mean, unprincipled, dishonest, or mischievous person. This is a quite refreshing alternative, lest in your zeal you overuse the word hooligan.

Swashbuckling. adjective. Characteristic of a blustering daredevil. Example: "My, what a swashbuckling purse you are holding today." Just kidding. Example: "Where have I been? I have been off on a thousand swashbuckling adventures--rescuing fair maidens from plundering, pillaging, ravishing monsters. Yes."

Bandicoot. noun. By a unanimous vote, it has been decided that this word is far less enthralling once the definition is known. All the knowledge necessary is that bandicoot is best used with words like crazed, cavort, and half. For example, "If you need me, I'll be out in the back yard, cavorting around like a half-crazed bandicoot." Or, alternately: "Oh my, your bicep is straining at your shirt like a wild bandicoot!"

Bazinga. interjection. Best pronounced in a calm voice, with a strong emphasis on the penultimate syllable and an alarming smirk, this exclamation lets someone know that they have been had. "Bazinga." I may or may not have borrowed this from a TV show, but it has certainly become an essential part of my vocabulary.

There you go. These are the words that may make all the difference for you in this newish year. Why should you bother using these obscure English oddities? Because it's fun. And because it's what all the cool kids are doing.

Until I have more serious things to post....

a new sort of literary criticism

Last week I was glancing through a journal compiled by (and for) secondary English teachers when I encountered this amusing collection of analyses. Some are better than others, but I thought I would post these assessments of literature for those of you who will truly appreciate them.

Literary “Two Cows” Stories
-Aaron Pauls

The field of economics is noted for using “two cow” stories to explain various economic systems. (Example for fascism: You have two cows. The government takes them both, hires you to take care of them, and sells you the milk.) One day I began thinking, What if “two cow” stories were written by famous literary figures? What would they sound like?
Here are some interesting examples.

Jane Austen
You have two cows. They get together and dance with your neighbor’s cows and exchange gossip. Every eligible and sensible cow finds the perfect bull.

Thomas Hardy
You have two cows. One day you accidentally forget to milk one. God causes the cow to destroy your home, trample your crops, gore your entire family, and leave you paralyzed, just to teach you a lesson.

Nathaniel Hawthorne
You have two cows. You think this is symbolic. You tell everyone you know not only that it is symbolic, but how it is symbolic, just so they don’t miss the point.

Herman Melville
Herman has two cows. Before telling us about them he first suggests we read famous quotes concerning cows, learn every scientific classification of cow, find the uses for every piece of cow meat, read works concerning the glory in raising cows, talk about the origins of cow herding, expand on the wonder of the cow eyeball, study the use of the cow’s tail, talk about the different kinds of barbed wire used to fence in cows... and learn the variety of creatures that prey on cows. When he finally gets around to actually talking about his cows, no one is reading anymore.

Ninth-Grade English Class
I have 2 things. Theyr cows. I have to right a para-graph about them. I hating writing. Id rather bee watching TV. I reelly like watching srubs because its awsom I think that the main caracter is realy funny he makes me laugh one time he made a joke about cows that made me lol thats why I have two and have written about them. I need two more sentence to meet the minimum. Here they are.

Pauls, Aaron. "Literary ‘Two Cows’ Stories." English Journal: National Council of Teachers of English 99.2 (2009): 16-17. Print.

reflections on the Lord's supper: the theology of Christian optimism

How do you proclaim Christ’s sacrifice in every moment that you breathe? At the end of each day, how have you made each thought and action a testament to the death and resurrection that is the foundation of your faith—the bedrock of everything in your life that is true?

As Christians, we observe a sacrament that proclaims Christ’s death until he returns. We proclaim Christ’s death, but only because it is a necessary precursor to his resurrection. As Christians who participate in the Lord's Supper, we understand the terrible and cold power of death. Yet we also know that Christ has forever conquered death and has thus set a never-ending precedent. Death and pain are certainly real, but for the believer, they must always be followed by resurrection because of Christ's role on the cross. Belief in this sequence is the core of our faith—if resurrection does not follow death then Paul says we are to be pitied more than all men.
How do we show our belief in this infinitely important principle? I propose something that is simply radical.

When you look at your world, do you look through the lens of a risen Christ? When you face troubles—and you surely will—do your thoughts declare a resurrected Lord? Do you truly believe that the good in your daily life has conquered the bad? Have you achieved that theologically-inspired balance?

When you look at your world, do you see a Thomas Kincade painting? A world in which only light and flowers exist, in which every home is cheerful and warm and welcoming? I hope not, because that is neither our world nor the world of the Scriptures. We cannot ignore struggles, for we proclaim Christ’s death as the sacrifice that saved our souls. Where were the flowers, where was the softly glowing sunlight at the cross?
But when you look at your world, neither should you see only darkness and despair--a world in which marriages end in divorce, in which bills are unpaid, in which good people die. The story cannot stop there, for we also believe in resurrection.

When you look at your life, when you sit down at the end of your day, do you tend to focus on the despair in your life? On the things that are wrong about your day, about your situation in life? Or do you break from the customary attitude of this world, choosing to see all death only through the light of resurrection? Our world is badly broken, but it still bears traces of beauty. God is still at work today, in hundreds of small ways. He whispers his resurrection through a friend’s encouragement, through the sun lighting up the clouds, through the joy of good food, through soul-thrilling music… in every moment that tugs at your soul with its wonderful rightness.

A Christian who truly understands Christ’s sacrifice cannot help but be an optimist. He does not blindly deny the presence of darkness, but he intentionally believes in the ultimate triumph of light, and that doctrine manifests itself through the things on which he allows his mind to dwell.

I challenge you to act upon the theology that you profess. Intentionally live your life—and look at your life—through the power of Christ’s resurrection. At times it takes a tremendous effort of will to discipline your mind into a resurrection mindset. But try, just try, to avail yourself of God’s grace, to believe that our lives are ultimately characterized by the power of resurrection, not by the power of death.

new year's resolutions

1. Convert to a lifestyle of general roguishness.
2. Take up bagpipery.
3. Learn to fly an airplane.
4. Grow a ferocious beard. Arrg!

and it's another year...

I was sitting today in the company of good friends, a little damp from a comic sledding adventure, and holding a warm cup of coffee in my hands, when I smiled a little smile of perfect contentment. I've been doing that a lot lately. As I reflected on this past year, I realized how very much my life has changed. My external circumstances have changed. I left behind some wonderful people who had become very dear to me, and I left the beautiful Pacific Northwest. I have completely new surroundings now, and I've found that God is not absent, even in the bitterly cold and mountainless Midwest. My hair is longer. I've read more books. I own a new pair of pants.

As I took a sip of my coffee, I realized that I have changed personally as well. God is so good. He has grown me and nurtured me and played in my life in many different ways. As I look back, even on the day that I left a beloved campus in May, tearfully driving away after last goodbyes; even on the day I was so discouraged that I just stayed in bed all day and listened to sad songs; even during the excruciating practices when I felt like I should be dying in every way... I honestly can say that I wouldn't change anything. God has worked every single circumstance of this past year into a blessing.

Now I’m ready to leave behind this past year without any regrets, and to throw myself wholeheartedly into this next year. Whatever happens, I hope to continue becoming less childish and more childlike as time passes. I commit to living each day fully and, by God's grace, growing closer to my telos. I am terribly excited for 2010!