This Day Takes the Cake

Some days take faith.

Scratch that.  Every day takes faith.  Some days I just don't have it.

You see, I started off well.  Got a Word from the Lord this morning.  Had coffee.  Got everything ready for the kids.

Then it all caught up with me.  I'm not entirely sure what happened.  I think it had something to do with the lack of sleep and the excess of caffeine I'd ingested.  The word from the Lord was real; the spirit was willing, the flesh was weak.

Sometimes my faith is also weak.  It was one of those days.  A freak-out day.  One where I'm not entirely sure to what degree the thing on which I'm fixated is of my own invention.  One thing is for sure: I stressed my daughter out by getting so stressed out myself.  Another thing: I felt a lot better after a nap.

After said nap, I knew I needed to make a cake.  Just knew.  Also, knew I needed to watch a movie.  So I got one from RedBox - my anniversary freebie! - had my cake, and am now going to just chizill.  

Someday, it will all be funny... I hope?

Chocolate is no substitute for (temporary interruption here as I confiscated something from my son who is supposed to be sleeping) spiritual victory, but it is a real consolation for sore nerves.  Notice I am not really referring to the cake, which is just a shelf for the real goodness to shine from (basic Hershey's frosting recipe - check it out here).

Two thoughts help me put a lid on this day.  One, a little bread cast on the waters this morning: 2 Samuel 22:20b, "He resuced me because he delighted in me" (NIV).  That is the unmerited favor of God.  I told my husband this morning I was encouraged that it didn't say, "He rescued me because I am awesome." 

Second thought is a song (at last!): "Shifting Sand" by Caedmon's Call.  Been running through my head as I made my cake.

My faith is like shifting sand

Changed by every wave

My faith is like shifting sand

So I stand on grace

I'm intrigued and confused by the sepia-toned, Chinese boarding-school images.  Or maybe the Philippines - that seems more likely.  You know, I've seen so much, I explain it away.  The song stands on its own.

With a sigh of relief I shall now sink into the couch to watch my movie.  Every day takes faith.  This one took  the cake.  

Stuff I tried today

Okay, I hope I seem excited about this, because I am.  I have actually been looking around for things to wash and dry, because I wanted to try my homemade laundry soap and homemade fabric softener in combination.  I just made the softener today.  I used a $.90 bottle of V05 conditioner - kiwi scent - plus three cups vinegar and six cups water, a la this recipe, and, voila!  Super cheap fabric softener (11 cups is 2/3 gallon).  I will have to give some to my laundry expert friend to see if she is pleased with it, but it is working for li'l ol' me right now. Plus, she gave me a thumbs up on the homemade detergent, which was made using this recipe.

Alright, now for the créme de la créme - pun perfectly placed - I made coffee creamer today, riffing on this recipe.  I really should take a picture.  Imagine two pint-sized jars of coffee creamer, one slightly tanner than the other.  That one is mocha mint.  The lighter is plain.  I have been without creamer for a few days and was going to make the powdered kind - which is what I usually buy - using this recipe, but wasn't sure I could find or afford coconut oil at this juncture.  Mmm, mmm.  The creamer is my sweetest success yet.

I just remembered that I also tried a really simple dessert recipe today; s'more pops, a riff on this recipe.  I bought a six-pack of Hershey bars for $1 @ Wal-Mart today.  Surprisingly, just one or two is enough for a dessert.  I didn't toast mine first, btw.  However you do it, it is a really cheap and simple, sweet, and fun treat to make for kids.  All you need is a few marshmallows, a chocolate bar, and a graham cracker.  You don't even need the lolly sticks.

Next on my list is popsicles and cutting my daughter's hair.  

For the sake of not leaving my post pic-less, I'm attaching a pic of some food I made yesterday*.  I flexed my menu a bit and used half a box of leftover ziti, some cottage and mozzarella cheeses, half a package of leftover thawed frozen spinach, an egg, and some pasta sauce, and made Ziti Florentine.  It was actually quite good!  I had leftovers of my leftovers for lunch today - a grown-up mac 'n' cheese.

* Food pics are risky.  I can doctor them up and everything looks divine.  This one I didn't, and I just hope it doesn't look gross.

Just blowing off steam?

My kids are watching a Thomas and Friends video while I clean and there was something I just had to post about.  New as I am to the Thomas universe, I know that there is a cadre of train engines that have various tasks to complete together or alone, and there's always a good character lesson.

This episode was about Emily, who wanted to learn how to blow her whistle.  She thought it would be easy to do and easy to learn.  The other engines chided her, and warned her that it took a lot of energy.

Okay, show's over, so quick to the punchline: the other engines warned her that "twitters and tweets take a lot of energy." A pun for our times!  It takes a lot of energy to keep chugging away.

Notes on DIY

So I mention my DIY kick a few posts ago.  I have not made any new products since then, but I have made a few observations worth sharing.

First of all, I am making/doing things myself because it was more economical while I am at home.  Also, it is kind of fun, and gives me a sense of contribution and control.

Secondly, it takes some practice, and I find it's not always worth it.  For instance, I did not like the version of homemade dishwasher soap I made last summer; it left my dishes quite filmy.  Then I did a little more scouting and found that using the same detergent with half a cup or so of vinegar in the bottom of the washer left my dishes as clean as regular detergent, and I think it's cheaper (I admit I have not totally costed this out).  Also, I made some homemade carpet cleaner but the consistency was like toothpaste, and whatever good it may have done, I still had the problem equivalent to having to dissolve toothpaste out of my carpet.  So I'd rather buy Resolve, which I pretty much love.

My toddler son is currently banging on his bedroom door, resisting taking a nap, so I will at least temporarily put this subject on hold...

And we're back!  He went to sleep pretty quickly but I got absorbed in some other things.  I checked out a few friends' blogs, tried to snooze a headache away, and got some yogurt going.

Meanwhile, I've been thinking a lot about things that are important in life.  My friend Kate pointed out in her blog  that she's learned that life can go on without being blogged, and that it's more important to "life life alongside those I love." So wise - I couldn't agree more.  So much of what's important doesn't, and shouldn't, end up on a page or a screen.  Blogging can actually take away from life; from time spent with those significant others God has put in your life.

The most significant other, of course, is God.  I was just re-reading a Bible lesson on the subject of being a teacher, in which the writer urged those who minister to be diligent to maintain one's private relationship to the Lord.  I underlined this zinger: "God will never call you to sacrifice your intimacy with Him on the altar of ministry." I groan because I know I've done that before... and why?  For attention?  For immediate gratification?

It caused me to think about why I try to do the things I try to do around the house, online, in the world, et cetera.  There are so many things to get involved with. I jotted down a few lines that remind me to keep my hobbies and pursuits in priority perspective.


How readily I judge myself
By standards that weren't made by You
How quickly I am weighed and wanting

Of all the things that could take my time
Of all the things that could fill my mind
Of all things that could charm me more
You're the one I'm looking for




How quickly I think I need more
Thank you Lord, for humbling.
You were always everything.
Of all the many accidents
Cares of dollars and of cents
In all the good I could explore
You're the One I'm reaching for

So, in short, more important than being able to make my own pudding or whatever, is my relationship with the Lord.  I am glad to find this Mary part of me waking up along with the new Martha.  It really is quite a refreshing balance.

Okay, the next two pictures fall in between "I am Mary" and "I am Martha" on the blogger identity spectrum, which is just fine.

The first is more Mary; it is what I did with the mess I made yesterday trying to make icing granulated sugar (it doesn't work).  I tried to use the resulting creamed sugar and fat to make no-bakes, because I was too tired to properly bake or clean up again.  They look good, right?

They're okay.  The trouble is the granulated sugar is really grainy on account of I didn't heat anything up on account of I did this totally backwards.  Whatevs; the kids will eat them and so will I.

Okay, and this is a bit Martha: its the batch of yogurt I'm hatching.  I jokingly call it hatching because right now the yogurt is in the "incubation" period and the setup does look like incubating eggs.  There's a Corningware French White specimen in there, full of what I think will be a little more than a quart of yogurt, in the next 3-4 hours.  Yum!

I wonder now if I can take another little nap... everyone else in the house is snoozing...

Au revoir, classe!

Today was my last day of my two four-week semesters of French for translation.  It was so great!  Wait, wait: Était trés superb!

I made a snack for my fellow classmates' gnoshing pleasure during the final exam.  I was kind of improvising with the dough.  For the shape, I went for cinnamon rolls, but made them in muffin cups, knowing that it would be easier to eat while testing if they were individually en-papered.   Then I realized I didn't have any powdered sugar, so after making a mess with some granulated sugar, just left them.  They were actually easier to transport non-iced.  So, testing went well, I guess, and the treats turned out trés interessantes.

After the exam I treated myself to some fast food, and completed a day of Bible study homework.  It was so sweet!  The lesson hurt, consoled, exhorted, and encouraged me.  Loved it.  What a day!

Breakfast, Lunch, Dinner

We are having a high-protein breakfast today.  I made smoothies with protein powder, powdered milk, frozen fruit and water, plus breakfast burritos.  If that sounds complicated or impressive, it's just a result of combining what I had on hand into recognizable, tasty food shapes.

I think the smoothies were a hit because my little boy drank two Cars 2 sippies of it.  I knew he wouldn't really eat his burrito - he unrolls things and discards the tortilla - so did my daughter.  Oh, well.  We're going for protein.

Here is a dose of the serious cuteness this guy's smile brings into my day on a regular basis.

I could add a picture of the tantrum he is throwing on the floor right now, but you don't want to see that, do you?

Alright, so I only got as far as the first word in the subject. Expect lunch and dinner soon...

...

In the few minutes now before our time of use savings kick in and I run some laundry, here's what I did for lunch and dinner.

For lunch, the kids had leftovers at their playdate.

I also had leftovers; rice and beans plus the contents of a kabob leftover from yesterday.  It was SO GOOD, and something I would NEVER bother putting together for its own sake - I mean I'd never grill veggies and chicken to put them in rice and beans.

For dinner I thawed a frozen dish I'd made from our church's cookbook; the recipe contributor blogs at recipesforroger.blogspot.com and is quite a cook.  I think she brought us this meal when I had just had the little guy smiling above.

It's spaghetti, chicken, cream soup, cheese, Rotel, salt and pepper.  So good!

Well, time of use kicked in and someone is crying in the other room, and it sounded like a fall.  Earlier today I found this:

Which is just life with my toddler boy.  All is well now, but I need to go check.

Independence Day

So I've been having a blogger's identity crisis lately.  What should I write about?  With so many blogs out there, so many good, is there anything I have to say that isn't just adding to the noise?

I started the blog eight (?) years ago or so, wanting to blog about songs, and that's what I did.  Now life is a little more layered, and I feel like I have diverse things to write about.

Speaking of layers, today, for Independence Day, I attempted to make a delicious, patriotic dessert.  I would say that I succeeded, if I were a Mexican patriot.  The blue food coloring I used mixed with the essentially yellow cake batter, and no art student would be surprised by the resulting hue.

Here is my resulting green, yellow, and red dessert.

On my DIY kick still, I had planned this morning to wake up, make the cake and pudding from scratch, and make hamburger buns from scratch.  After I finished making the cake - I chose a "busy day cake" recipe similar to this one - I shared with my husband the realization that it was probably worth the $3 to just buy hamburger buns and pudding mix at the grocery store.  He laughingly agreed, and my guests were no less pleased with the results.

I found it somewhat ironic that I was making pudding on Independence Day.  Isn't that quite a British dessert?  I realized lately that sometimes the French and English are battling it out in my psyche.  The British part of me wants to be quite regimented, methodical, definitive.  The French side of me wants to digress, experiment, and complicate, in everything but language.  So I love having a method; I love order and definitions, but I also like to take little trips off the beaten path, combine ideas in interesting ways, and find a slightly new angle.

I've recently watched a two-part miniseries on Elizabeth I.  I LOVED it.  I love all things Elizabethan.  In fact, I think if God gave me another daughter, I would  name her Elizabeth, both after Elizabeth I, and Beth Moore, my mentor-from-a-distance.  I just recently began her newest study.  I have been doing her Bible studies since college, and wrote a quick note to her ministry to let her know I had great joy in embarking on another.  A few days ago, I got an unexpected reply card in the mail.  It was a form reply, but still!  It was was from Beth!

I will keep it forever.

So, back to the matter of what on earth I think my blog is about.  Well, it is about the little things, about combining them in new ways to see new things.  There is nothing new under the sun.  Nothing I say is truly original.  But today, July 4, I am declaring the freedom to write about whatever I fancy.

One quote from the Elizabeth miniseries that stood out to me was, "There is but one Jesus Christ.  The rest is trifles." The most famous Elizabethan playwright wrote a comedy called Much Ado About Nothing.  In the parlance of the day, it would have been equivalent to say "the rest is much ado about nothing."

Trifles, and Much Ado.  Writing about all the rest of life that happens.

D'in I M(yself)

I have been on a major DIY kick lately.

Here is what I had for breakfast.  I made the yogurt and granola myself.

It was delicious.

Other things I have made: laundry soap, dishwasher detergent (new and improved), baby wash.

I also planned our meals for the whole month, and made and froze seven or so of them.

More later.

Le monde entier

One of the reasons I picked my coffee maker was that it also made tea.  I'm not really a tea person, and don't really know what I'm doing.  So I won't really know how well it works until someone who really likes tea gives it a try.  I have a person in mind for the job.

I do know that I have some pretty good tea on hand, because it was a gift from someone who knows tea.  It's Kusmi brand, Anastasia flavor.  I took my title from the copy on the lid, which says, in French, that it began to be offered to the whole world - le monde entier - having been influential already in Europe.

I have come across the phrase, "le monde entier" before - in the (original) French lyric of "O Holy Night" ("Minuit Chrétiens").  "Le monde entier tressaille d'espérance" is the original lyric where in English we sing, "A thrill of hope; the weary world rejoices." I thrill to the "thrill of hope" part - it is quiet poetic - and actually, is meant in the original; "tressaille d'espérance" means "shivers with hope." The translation is, artistically, brilliant, at that moment. 


As of today, we are closer to Christmas 2012 than we are to Christmas 2011.  I am thinking of all things Christmas. But that is kind of a different subject.

I know these two things - my tea and a line from a song - seem completely random, and they almost are, except for the fact that the person I have in mind to try out this tea, and the person who called the French lyrics to my attention, got engaged last Summer, and are getting married in about five weeks, and I just think it very tidy that the two who are going to be very solidly bound together quite soon, were linked together this morning in my mind by this little French phrase.

Hello, blog

Good morning!

It's been awhile.

I got a good night's sleep last night, and played this song this morning. It gets my whole family dancing.

Sweet Hearts

Happy Valentine's Day!  It has been a very chocolatey day around here.  We started with chocolate-chip heart-shaped pancakes.

This was a successful pancake experiment.  I used the standard BHG cookbook recipe.  Sometimes it does work (see prior post about experimenting with pancakes for backstory).

At dinner we had brownies, and my husband gave me a big box of chocolate.  Unexpected!  Notice there is already one missing.

Tonight our family had a candlelight dinner.  We gave the kids little presents and let me know how much we loved them.  I got this idea from Sarah, the Character Mom.  Check out her blog at http://thecharactermom.blogspot.com/ .  She has a monthly newsletter full of ideas on how to teach one character trait per month; it's been a great resource for us these past few weeks.  The Funky Sheep of a prior post were an idea that came directly from her.

Here is my little sweetheart and me tonight. We got a little dressed up for our "family party."  This just became one of my favorite pictures.

So, it has been a sweet Valentine's Day, full of sweets.  There is another kind of sweet heart I've been thinking of, and that is the kind that is pure of bitterness.

I had the privilege of hearing a speaker this week who discussed finding grace for the seasons of life.  During one of her sessions, she spoke about bitterness, and about how to run to God once you've been running away.  So much of what she said helped me understand passages of my life.  Two things that stood out were that sometimes going numb is the response of bitterness, and that sometimes you can run away from God without anyone knowing because you are such a well-trained Christian; I believe "housebroken" was the word she used.  I don't want to go back to being bitter.  I want the Lord to sweeten my heart so I can continue to walk in grace.

Since the retreat, I've been thinking of this Natalie Grant song, which is in the repertoire of one of my voice students.  As such, I have thought about every word.

I have been the wayward child
I have acted out
I have questioned sovereignty
And had my share of doubt

Check. :)

Bitterness has plagued my heart
Many times before
My life has been like broken glass
And I have kept the score
Of all my shattered dreams
And though it seemed 
That I was far too gone
My brokenness helped me to see
It's grace I'm standing on.

Praise the Lord, yes.  Check.

And the chaos in my life has been a badge I've worn
And though I have been torn
I will not be moved.

Those last three lines - the bridge - have made me think a lot.  Chaos can bring bitterness.  It did me.  I'm not sure why that is.  In any case, I feel like the thing to do now is move forward.  I look back and see how even in the bitterest of my bitterness, He was there, sweetening, drawing me to Him.  I just love Him for that.  I may stumble, I may fall down; I will make mistakes, I will face heartaches.  By grace, He will not let me go.

I will sing with my mind

Sophomore year of high school, my English teacher had us put together poetry notebooks.  We were to collect examples of genre, meter, rhyme scheme, figurative language, etc.  One of the poems I chose was "Love is Like Sounds," by Donald Hall.

Late snow fell this early morning of spring.
At dawn I rose from bed, restless, and looked
Out of my window, to wonder if there the snow
Fell outside your bedroom, and you watching.

I played my game of solitaire. The cards
Came out the same the third time through the deck.
The game was stuck. I threw the cards together,
And watched the snow that could not do but fall.

Love is like sounds, whose last reverberations
Hang on the leaves of strange trees, on mountains
As distant as the curving of the earth,
Where snow still hangs in the middle of the air.

My 15-year-old self had trouble with this poem, and my teacher helped me understand that is about how feelings can linger for a long time, frozen and unaffected by time.  

This morning the landscape is dusted with our first winter snow, and I found myself thinking of this poem.  It has stuck with me for almost 20 years.  It wouldn't have if it weren't for two things: the striking imagery, and the fact that someone interpreted it for me.

I was reading 1 Corinthians 14 this morning, which talks about the usage of gifts in the body - particularly speaking in tongues.  The emphasis is upon its value as edification; the message must be intelligible, or else the only person edified is the messenger.  Then when it is interpreted, the listeners are to carefully weigh what was said.  I'm not sure what that means; if they are to judge it, or if they are to think about applying it; assuming it is spirit-led, though, it must be the latter.

Twenty years later I'm involved in writing songs and helping others do the same.  I think there are three important goals to emphasize with songwriting; one is spiritual, one is artistic, and one is in-between.

1) The songs must be intelligible.  This is both an artistic and spiritual concern.  That does not mean that they have to be simple, but they do need to be coherent and consistent.  If the writer is the only one who understands it, it is merely a personal language and communication is lost.

2) The songs must be edifying.  This is a spiritual concern and relates primarily, though not exclusively, to content.  The poem above is not something I would want or expect to be read in a church service.  I suppose it is on the distant horizon of edification, because it is life-affirming to the degree that it recognizes that love and pain are real.  But it is also a bit wallowy.  There are probably more edifying responses to such pain.  I read somewhere the other day that Satan is the enemy of all life.  He says death to creativity, to hope, to the value of personhood, to the soul.  I would say that music that does so, in form or content, is not edifying.  This takes discernment, because songs are complex, but it is still one of the right questions to ask.

3) The songs must be good.  This is an artistic concern.  If Donald Hall were not a good poet, I would not remember his poem 20 years later.  It wouldn't make me slightly sad when I look at snow, and remember my sophomore year of high school.  There are a lot of ways to say "feelings can remain frozen and unaffected by time," but the particular way in which he said it, made me remember it.  Christian lyrics should do the same - strive for artistry so that the song can linger with a person and continue to build them up through the years.

I always find 1 Corinthians 14:15 encouraging,"I will pray with my spirit, but I will also pray with my mind; I will sing with my spirit, but I will also sing with my mind." The whole chapter and the preceding two are about how God gives many gifts in the body.  I am grateful that in a small way that music can - and must - be used to edify.

Martha Speaks

Kyrstin enjoys a PBS cartoon called "Martha Speaks."  The premise is so utterly simple, you wonder that it even got to TV.  Martha, a dog (who looks like a golden retriever) ate some alphabet soup one day, and instead of it going to her stomach, it went to her head, and she started talking.  And talking.  And talking!  She speaks mostly in monologues, and while she is very articulate on a variety of matters, she often uses her voice to request her dinner.  "Steak!  Steak!"

When I feel like I've been sending my husband so many text messages without a reply that it becomes a monologue, I'll text "Steak! Steak!" He understands.

Speaking of amazing transformations, I have mentioned in prior posts that I'm slowly making may way through Having a Mary Heart in a Martha World,  by Joanna Weaver.  I was particularly encouraged by what Weaver describes as Martha's teachability (Martha from the Bible story, not the talking dog, of course).  Sure, when we first see her she is the harried, task-oriented older sister who derided the younger sister's preference to sit at Jesus' feet and learn.  But she learned, too.  When Jesus came back after her brother Lazarus died, he addressed her.  "I am the resurrection in the life... Do you believe this?" And she replied, "Yes, Lord, I believe that you are the Christ, the son of God, who was to come into the world." Weaver notes that "scholars call this declaration one of the most incredible statements of faith in Scripture, for it cuts to the very essence of who Jesus was and is" (143).  Then she fetched her sister to come see Jesus.

As Weaver describes it,  "The anxious, demanding Queen of Everything is gone" (144).  Yet, what encouraged me most was that she was still Martha.  While she was being herself, God changed her heart.  It blessed me.  There are bitter, anxious words of Martha's in the Bible, but there are also these words full of faith and an act of encouragement.  It is an encouragement to me to see this transformation.

No recipe for happiness

There are shows like America's Test Kitchen, where the chefs try stuff out and explain what works, and there is Elton Brown on TV explaining why these aminos and those carbohydrates result in this product.  But have you ever noticed how decidedly unscientific cooking can be?  Specifically, how no one ever reports on the failed experiments?  I'm no scientist - it is not my calling - but I know that generally you start out with a hypothesis, then propose an experiment, describe the materials and procedure, describe the results, and then analyze the data.  Sometimes your hypothesis is proven and sometimes it is disproven; sometimes it is not disproven.

So today I started with a working hypothesis that I could make whole wheat pancakes from scratch without a recipe and that they would turn out delicious.  Like I said, no scientist, but I do love to cook.  So, it was an experiment, and one that I pretty much needed to work since I was making breakfast.  I think part of the scientific method - or at least write-ups of experiments - involves providing some background.  Background: I love pancakes, but cannot consistently make them well.  If it's not bisquick, they are often flat or unevenly browned.  Also, I am on a health kick, under conviction that my family must eat better.  Furthermore, it was a rough night with my son, so as he slept in, I decided I would have a special moment with my daughter and make whatever she wanted, hoping she wouldn't ask for waffles, because the Bisquick ones are unsatisfactory and from scratch is a pretty involved process (though they are delicious).  I know that applesauce is a good substitute for fat in baking, but we don't have any, so I decided to use nonfat vanilla yogurt.

Here is the recipe:

Whole Wheat Yogurt Pancakes

1 C WW Flour

1/2 C AP flour

1 t baking soda

1 t baking powder

1 t salt

1 C milk

1/2 C nonfat vanilla yogurt

1 t cinnamon

1 t vanilla

2 eggs, beaten

Mix all dry ingredients, and make a well.  Mix all wet ingredients, pour into well, and stir.  Pour by 1/3- 1/2 cups onto 300 degree griddle.  These pancakes take a long time to bake; maybe 4 minutes per side.  But they do cook all the way through.

Results:

I was very pleased with how evenly they turned out; they were thick but they cooked all the way through and did not burn.  They tasted good, but were kind of shiny and rubbery on the edges.  

Analysis:  I assume the shininess and rubberiness was because of subbing yogurt for fat.  Kids liked them just the same; happy-face shape was a success.

Conclusion: In the future, I will stock oatmeal and wheat germ so I can make WW pancakes per recipes I know will work.  Also, hypothesis that I could create a great pancake recipe from scratch was proven to be wishful thinking.

Obsolete

Well, I admit it.  I am not cool.  I am also reminded constantly that it is no longer my generation's moment - the torch has passed.  Or so I think...

I'm kind of confused as to what "generation" I belong to.  I have heard Generation Y described as those born 1978-1999.  If so, I am Gen Y's elder sister.  If it starts with 1980, I am the littlest X'er.  Both seem right to me.  I alternately feel like both Meg and Amy.

Part of this has come from the realization that younger people are doing cooler things than me, and that they do not speak my language and I do not speak theirs.  It's kind of painful.  I want to connect but feel... obsolete.  Like I have to think of all new metaphors, and they have to translate through Twitter.  I just can't keep up.

I wonder if anyone can.  I heard a college freshman the other day say something to the effect of, "Older generations complain that we do everything too fast.  Why do they complain about us being fast?  Why don't they just let those of us who are fast do our thing, and the slower ones just get out of the way?"  I doubt the guy was aware of the social darwinism of that statement.  I think he just likes speed - as do I - and I think he is 18 and hasn't found his limit.  One day he will sing a different tune.

I don't think it will be a day too far off, either.  Gen Y faces a volatile job market that will require various lateral moves, constant self-upgrading, and geographical mobility to stay on top of the game.  Sooner or later, most people will find themselves obsoletized.  We all know this, but Gen Y'ers are going to have a harder time dealing with it.  The advantage of ten years gave my husband a stable career, and even then, we are never entirely certain of what the future will hold.  It is going to require a lot more creativity on the part of the the new workforce.

Sara Groves' song "obsolete" bridges the generations, who may have different comfort or familiarity levels with the current technological/social media network situation, which she wisely dubs "invisible emppires," but who all have to wonder if they're able to keep up and remain relevant.  I've posted a live performance below, which is beautiful.  A few of my favorite lines and then you can just watch it:

It's hard to feel disqualified
For living in a different time
As if the train will only stop
For the current paradigm


Sara Groves performing Obsolete in Indy. Hosted by Onyx Ministry from Onyx Ministry on Vimeo.

Funky Sheep

I am trying to be more intentional about teaching my kids, and was blessed by a referral to a resource for teaching one character trait per month that gives ideas but allows for a lot of flexibility.  I just started planning in earnest for this yesterday, and started implementing it today.  Already, I am amazed by how much I have learned.

This month's trait is gentleness, and a very timely lesson, indeed.  A lot of the activities are sheep-centric, because Jesus leads us gently as the good shepherd.  Well, like I said, I just started this today, and it's been great, but I was scrambling a bit.  Thus, we made a sheep with colorful pom poms instead of the usual cotton balls.  These are sheep of a different color.

It so happens that I was talking to a friend today about a common experience we've had with children who are difficult to figure out.  It's hard to know quite what to expect or how to feel; in other words, it's not all black and white with these sheep.

I think one thing I've learned so far from this material that helps in this situation is that the Lord is my shepherd, too.  He cares for me as I care for my little flock; "He gently leads those that have young."  He understands what my kids need even when I don't, and has mercy on me when I can't figure it out.  I've been thinking a great deal about  how gently the Lord has led me, and how that is some second-hand grace I can pass along to my funky flock.

Beyond Belief

I don't know why, but when I woke up with one of my kids at 2:00 this morning, this song came to mind.  After watching the video, I'm so glad it did.



Watching the video, I remembered that my 2 AM thought was of the line, "waters never part until our feet get wet" (whoa-oa-oa).

I know this song by heart because my junior high/high school youth choir sang through the Beyond Belief songbook.  It was a four-part harmony with an accompaniment track that sounded pretty much like the original recording.  It was totally awesome.

What is even more fun is that as I was watching the video, it not only sounded, but looked familiar.  That bewildered young man is getting lost and running out of gas along roads that I drove to youth camp or other getaways while growing up in Arizona.  I was pretty sure it was Arizona, though willing to admit it could be Utah, Nevada, California, or New Mexico, until John Schlitt set the young man straight by pointing around at the map of Arizona.

Petra is awesome, and so is this video.  Oh, hey - Petra means rock, so it just occurred to me that there is a visual pun in the setting.  I just thought it was a way of evoking a "higher place...where we reach the next plateau." Anyway, I love all the cactii, and I love the parts where the guys are standing at different levels on those rocks, which make a very cool stage set.  There is a refreshing lack of fog machines, strobe lighting, and heck, even electricity, in this video.  Does make you wonder where the electric guitar and keys are getting their power, but no worries.  Petra is awesome.

There are several Petra songs that have stuck with me my entire life, and this is one of them.  The lyrics wouldn't have lept into my mind at 2AM otherwise.  Speaking of leaps:

Leap of faith without a net
Makes us want to hedge our bet
Waters never part 
Until our feet get wet.


That is such good writing!  Notice the allusion to Joshua 3, when the Jordan river began to back up as soon as the priests' feet touched the water.  You wouldn't need to know that for this to be cool, but still.  The song opens with an allusion to the mount of transfiguration, when Peter sees Christ glorified and wants to build a few tents and dwell there.  Awesome.

I must say that even the plot line of the video encouraged me.  Kid gets a flat, someone helps him.  Kid runs out of gas and can't pay, someone covers it.  Kid gets pulled over (for speeding?), is let off with a warning.  Kid gets lost, is redirected by John Schlitt.  It's like the band takes the place of the Holy Spirit, or of angels. (hey, a band of angels).  I don't really know why I woke up at 2 AM and this song came to mind, but it is encouraging to be reminded that

There's a deeper place to go
Where the road seems hard to hoe
He who has begun this work 
won't let it go.
(Let it go)


Awesome.  More power to ya'!

Of its work I do sing

I have the privilege of being a student in a weekly interdenominational Bible study of women in my area.  Right now we are working our way through 1 Corinthians, and coming across the passages where Paul chides the Corinthian believers for their party spirit.  "One of you says, 'I follow Paul'; another, 'I follow Apollos'; another, 'I follow Cephas'; still another, 'I follow Christ.' Is Christ divided?" (1:12-13a). In this passage, and others like it, Paul turns immediately to the cross as the object and subject of his teaching: "We preach Christ crucified: a stumbling block to Jews and foolishness to Gentiles, but to those whom God has called, both Jews and Greeks, Christ the power of God and the wisdom of God" (1:23-24).  Our interdenominational group is a blessing and a joy precisely because the leadership are united in looking to the cross.

I also have the privilege of leading worship from time to time, and I was listening through the set list for our church's upcoming Women's Retreat.  My friend Misty and her husband Dave have put together a delightfully cross-centered set.  There are a hundred reasons to sing about the cross.  Unity is, I think, not the chief of them; it is a by-product of the supremacy of Christ and the centricity of the cross in the Christian life, which are the more legitimate reasons.  Still, unity is a precious peaceable fruit.

I really wanted to share here a video of a cross-centered song I'd had on my mind; "Sweetly Broken," by Jeremy Riddle (but I cannot find a licensed version) .  I love the lyric, "To the cross I look, and to the cross I cling/ Of its suffering I do drink/ Of its work I do sing."  I can never sing too much of the cross and am grateful for singers and musicians who find fresh ways of drawing my heart gently to its knees through song.

Dreaming of Jubilee

A friend gave me a copy of an article from Christianity Today about the Jubilee Singers of Fisk University.  Fisk was one of several institutions established by Arthur and Lewis Tappan's American Missionary Society to "educate, uplift, and elevate" freed slaves.  Such institutions were poorly funded, and the Jubilee Singers were a choir of black men and women who went on fundraising tours on behalf of Fisk, performing to mostly white audiences.  The article notes that while they intended to prove that freed slaves were capable of performing "the best of the Western musical canon," it was the spirituals that had the profoundest effect on their audiences, which led to a revised program focusing on "slave songs of faith."

One short paragraph in the article really struck me; the author, David Neff, says that the songs of the Jubilee Singers "gave white audiences a striking vision of Christ's liberating power," and their vision "gave hope that those with other bondages might experience their own exodus."

My friend gave me a copy of this article because it mentioned Henry Ward Beecher, who gave his endorsement to the group, thereby legitimizing it in the eyes of white audiences.  My friend knows that I am a fan of all things Beecher or Stowe, and that Harriet Beecher Stowe is my hero and the focus of my research.  I am particularly interested in the emphasis on literacy of some nineteenth-century Christian abolitionists.

As this blog attests, I also love Sara Groves, and especially  her new album, Invisible Empires.  I could blog about what every single song means to me - and I may, eventually - but today is special, because it's not about me.  Today it is about how one of her songs always reminds me of some friends.   Sara wrote this song to encourage her friends at International Justice Mission, an organization that advocates and intervenes to end the modern-day slavery of human trafficking and sex trafficking.  The song is "Eyes on the Prize," which is a re-make of a civil rights song. Just as the Jubilee singers' music embodying one form of freedom could anticipate another, I think this song can encourage all who seek to end systemic injustice in Jesus' name, starting with the conviction that human beings are innately valuable because they are made in the image of God.  This was the motivating force behind the efforts of the Tappans, of Stowe, and of Wilberforce.  Here is Sara performing a live version, and here is a link to her telling the story behind the song.




I have many friends who friends who are involved in a present-day abolitionist movement.  Inspired by William Wilberforce and other Christian abolitionists, they are seeking the abolition of human abortion in the culture - particularly United States culture.  Today seemed like an especially good day to dedicate this song to these friends, considering some disappointing events in the news.  It took Wilberforce, acting with a cast of supporting characters, most of a lifetime and an entire political career to effect the abolition of slavery in the UK, but it happened.  The way is slow, and perhaps not always linear.  Jubilee is the dream.  Your work is good.

What have I to ask beside?

All the way my Savior leads me,

Cheers each winding path I tread;

Gives me grace for every trial,

Feeds me with the living Bread.

Though my weary steps may falter,

And my soul athirst may be,

Gushing from the Rock before me,

Lo! A spring of joy I see;

- "All the way my savior leads me," lyric by Fanny Crosby

The picture above was taken on the neighborhood path 3 months after Stefan is born (I am holding him but he's hard to see).  I took a walk around that path again yesterday, talking to God about where He's leading me, and where He's leading my family.  I thought about where He'd led me before, and the difficulty I'd had providing an explanation for my behavior to others.  I'd even come up with explanations that seemed more logical.  "Well, if I do ___, then I can do ________ in the future." These explanations were half-hearted stumblings.  I realized yesterday as I walked that I just did those things because that is where my savior led me, and if they didn't lead to anything else, they at least let me walk with him, which is all I've ever truly desired or aspired to.

All the way my Savior leads me;

What have I to ask beside?

Can I doubt His tender mercy,

Who through life has been my Guide?

Heav’nly peace, divinest comfort,

Here by faith in Him to dwell!

For I know, whate’er befall me,

Jesus doeth all things well;

Chris Tomlin has an updated recording of this song; our choir has it in our repertoire.  It's lovely.  I couldn't find an "official" version online, so I can't link you to it.  But if you're interested, you can look it up.

Sometimes you don't

I posted about making these cookies the other day to satisfy my chocolate craving and calm my inner crazy mom.  I made half of the pan with nuts, and half without, because sometimes you feel like a nut, and sometimes you don't.  In the pic, the nuts are on the L.  You can see that Scott and I went a little more nuts than not.

I would like to make the note that substituting almonds for walnuts in a cookie bar recipe didn't work great because the almonds got a little rubbery.  But it still tasted sweet and chocolatey, was highly edible, and worked for me.

As for nuts, we have a bowl of them on our kitchen island.  They've been sitting there since Christmas.  We bought them thinking it would be fun to use with the nutcracker Kyrstin got for her birthday.  She loves nutcrackers, as her excitement in this picture attests.

As it turns out, though, the nuts were too strong for the nutcracker, which was actually decorative.  Not being "nut" people (in one sense) we didn't know that.  So, now we have this big bowl of nuts, plus another amount the same size where that came from in the pantry.  I'm not sure what to do with them.  I don't feel like having them out anymore, but I can't waste all those walnuts, pecans, hazelnuts, and almonds.  I'm not likely to individual crack and chop them to cook with.  Anybody wanna go nuts?

The half-life of grace, or second-hand miracles

A friend offered me some secondhand clothes and I picked them today.  I appreciate this because a) it helps me extend my wardrobe, and b) I don't have to suffer any buyer's remorse.

I was thinking this morning about the miracle of longsuffering; how over time, indirectly, some of the longsufferer wears off on the suffered.  Maybe this is because I am so hard-headed and proud that you can't teach me anything; you have to show me.  That takes time, which puts the long in longsuffering.

If I could just learn everything directly for myself, I could experience more grace firsthand.  Sometimes, though, I don't even know what I'm missing.  I get around people who've got something special, and think, hmm, where  can I pick some of that stuff up?  Also, I have in the past bought some nice stuff second-hand, and really enjoyed the quality.  It made me more willing to pay the price for the real thing later on, and start counting that cost.  It's the same with spiritual blessings.

This idea makes me uncomfortable, too, because I realize how frequently the grace God shines into my life is  snuffed out by my own selfishness or fleshliness.  This is most evident when I am impatient or short with my children.  I guess sometimes I expect them to be little adults.  It's taken me XX years to arrive where I am, and it's not the finish line... clean or dirty, cute or frumpy, I've got some little wardrobes to launder and fold, and do it all again tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow... until they're big enough to take it all on their own.

The patience to do that would be a miracle that I am just hoping would have a secondhand effect.

Sometimes you feel like a nut

There are cookie bars baking in my oven.  Let me tell you the story of how they came to be.

Last night, around 1:30, our little boy started fussing.  We tried rocking and holding him, to no avail.  We tried to let him cry it out, but he would not let up and we could not sleep.  We finally gave him some tylenol, held him for 20 minutes after that, and then let him go back to sleep.  We think it is a teething issue as there was a wet spot on his sleeve right where he likes to chew when he is teething.  All in all this took two hours - so, around 3:30, I'm snuggling under the covers, thankful, and zzzz....

7:30 my daughter comes into bed with us.  We are tired, but happy because it's a Saturday, so we can take it slow and be together.  Breakfast is nice, and with coffee, I feel like kind of a decent person.  Until the kids start being weird.  Then we have errands to run, and I feel like I'm dragging them around in the van, though heavier than our automobile seems to be the accumulating thoughts of everything that annoys me in life.  The coffee starts to wear off.  I have nothing nice to say, so say mostly nothing to anyone.  I contemplate the fact that my tiredness from being up two hours in night watches does not explain or justify my total change of attitude from breakfast to errands, but it does contribute.

After lunch I decide that what will make me feel better is to bake something chocolaty.  Start out going for cookies, but realize we are out of sugar, so switch to bars.  I realize also that cooking and/or eating chocolate is really not going to make the difference in my attitude, but that it will contribute.  We have most of the ingredients on hand - graham crackers, sweetened condensed milk, flaked coconut, and chocolate chips, but no walnuts.  I decide to sub some of the almonds that we have, though I put them only on half of the pan since they might constitute a choking hazard for the little boy.

The combo of chocolate, coconut, and almonds reminds me of Almond Joy.  So I figure that half of my pan of cookie bars will be Mounds, and half will be Almond Joy.  This split really is an apt metaphor for my day, and a lot of days: sometimes I feel like a nut, and sometimes I don't.

Dickinson's days

I've been doing a little background research for an idea I had for writing a different kind of hymn; one that used the meter of the hymn in order to throw into relief an atheistic or agnostic message. I was thinking about Emily Dickinson, because I remember learning in my undergrad days that Dickinson often used hymn meter for her poetry. Case in point, "Because I Could Not Stop for Death" is written in common meter, as is "Amazing Grace," by John Newton.

Because I could not stop for Death,
He kindly stopped for me;
The carriage held but just ourselves
And Immortality.

 vs.

Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound
That saved a wretch like me!
I once was lost, but now am found;
Was blind, but now I see.

 A lot of scholars have put a lot of thought into why she did this. Was it because so much exposure to hymns predisposed her to a particular cadence? Was she fond of hymns? Did she like the challenge? It was certainly a limitation that she chose for her own purposes. I guess scholars are not settled on the question, and I have enough respect for literary studies not to impose a hasty answer. For me, though, hearing Dickinson's poems set to hymn tunes makes it readily apparent how very different her message was from that of the hymns. Consider the last two stanzas of both "Because I could not stop" and "Amazing Grace." I'm also including the penultimate stanza of Dickinson's poem for context.

We paused before a house that seemed
A swelling of the ground;
The roof was scarcely visible,
The cornice but a mound.

Since then 'tis centuries, and yet each
Feels shorter than the day
I first surmised the horses' heads
Were toward eternity.

 vs.

 When we've been there ten thousand years
 Bright shining as the sun
We've no less days to sing God's praise
Than when we first begun.

It is not clear what happens in Dickinson's eternity, but Newton's is clearly a choir party. Note the emphasis on the length of days, too. It really brings out the contrast. Well, that is enough for now; I'll post a few more times on this subject, I think.

Surprises

We are home today. It is overdetermined. We can't get out, and there aren't many places we really ought to be other than here. Surprisingly, it's been a good day; the kids have played nicely and even shown sign of some developmental progress (always encouraging with a toddler and preschooler). Kids are playing in back yard and seem to really like it. 64 or so out there this January day; got to love Oklahoma weather and all of its surprises (earthquakes, tornadoes, Sprinter, etc.). Friends can surprise you, too. There is something I need regular help with and have been struggling to find it; I felt like God put on my heart to get in touch with a couple of people, but have not, because I have assumed they were too busy. Well, I called two of them today, almost apologetically. One said she'd be happy to help almost any other time, which was good to know, and the other agreed to do it, with hardly a hesitation. God can surprise me. Happiness is being surprised by little moments. Well, wouldn't you know; before I could finish typing this up I hear a little voice tell me of a developmental regression... that I have to clean up... life is never as neat and tidy as a blog post.

Running the course

I woke up thinking this would be a long day, and hearing Caedmon's Call's "Walk With Me." Here is a goofy video of it: I always admire how well Danielle performs when pregnant. Long night w/sick toddler, appointments to make, IT issues to resolve on behalf of others... My thoughts were punctuated like my plodding steps in the pre-dawn house: One. Day. At. A. Time. I felt like I really just needed to get to my quiet time - it felt vital. It really does restore my soul. I found a little treasure in Psalm 19. It's about the sun, which is "like a champion rejoicing to run his course. It rises at one end of the heavens and makes it circuit to the other; nothing is hidden from its heat" (5b-6). I'm not sure what part gets to me the most. I think part of it is that even the sun just does his thing one day at a time, but he does it really well. I think it's also knowing that a day can only be so long - we'll get through it. Walk with me empty; walk with me strong. This is going to be one of those more empty days, I think, but I am praying for the Lord to supply what I need.

Beautiful Things

In my reading and in my Bible study, a recent emphasis is on the resurrection of Christ. As it is not Easter and these two readings were completely unrelated, I believe the Lord is bringing this into focus for me. My daughter's scripture verse for the week from her children's program is 1 Thessalonians 4:14, "We believe that Jesus died and rose again." I also read this quote from Yancey in Having a Mary Heart in a Martha World: "The three-day pattern - tragedy, darkness, triumph - became for New Testament writers a template that can be applied to all our times of testing" (132). What great encouragement, awe, and transcendent perspective comes through this tenet of Christian belief - the bodily resurrection of Christ, and the power behind that resurrection. The hope I have is not in my own power, and the power in which I place I have my hope is not limited by death or the grave. The thing that really gets me is that beyond the darkness, there is triumph. Beyond the grave, there is a more glorious life. He doesn't provide merely an end to our grieving period, but replaces it with gladness (Isaiah 61:3). There are a lot of songs that talk about this concept, but the one I heard this morning is Gungor's "Beautiful Things." I have to say I don't think that you can make a doctrine out of this song, and I don't know entirely where Gungor is coming from (though I have some idea) but as far as the simple idea in this song goes, it's true. The album art is a nice complement, too. Side note: we saw a beautiful sunrise this morning. Exactly.

All is calm...

Happiness is having the house to myself for a few hours. My husband is off today for MLK day and he took the kids out for awhile. He knew it would be fun for both kids and mommy. He just let me know the zoo is packed; free Mondays + holiday + beautiful January weather = a zoo at the zoo. So, it might not last long, but while it does, I'm enjoying that the only sounds in the house are the ones I'm making or playing. Over this winter break I set out to read two books; one I've blogged about already - the Pemberley one - and the other is Having a Mary Heart in a Martha World, by Joanna Weaver. It might be one of the best books I've ever read. Am 2/3 through and will not rush it just to meet my goal, because I have so enjoyed digesting it slowly and don't want to gobble up the rest.

Zigzags

This morning, I read an admonition in 1 Thessalonians to "be joyful always." Yay! Okay! Here goes! I also was reading in a Christian book about how sometimes bad things happen, and that God's will does not always proceed in a straight line. Indeed. I am wondering where my own zigzags are going to take me. All I know is He is with me, my sure foundation. Well, speaking of zigzags, I made this braided calzone a few times last week. With the dough made in the bread machine, the work was really minimal for me, and it's an easy and pretty way to feed a family. The braid is such a nice touch.

Easy treats

These are just Jet-Puffed peppermint marshmallows (which are oblong and flatter than regular marshmallows) with melted semisweet chips around them. I think milk chocolate would be a little better, but they are very easy and unusual candy to make, and have a Valentine's Day vibe (minus the Christmas plate).

Ten minutes to blog about our dog

I told the kids they had ten more minutes to play outside, and then it would be time for stories, naptime, etc. We got a dog yesterday with some late Christmas money. Here he is.

I'd had my eye on him for awhile. I really expected that Stefan would take to him, but it is Kyrstin who wants to bring him into the kitchen for meals, and bounce around the house on Blue, for that is what she has named him. I know this is a little snarky, but I can't resist commenting on how much we enjoy this kind of dog. No barking, no poop, no upkeep. We will have to clean his paws from time to time, and that's it. I can walk around barefoot in my yard without the concern that I might have missed something. Seriously and non-snarkily, this is a cool toy. It's made of a a durable, non-smelly molded rubber of some type, is less expensive than the Rody, and can hold up to 250 pounds, which means that I can bounce on him with one of the kids if I feel inclined. It's fun. Happiness is a bouncy blue dog.

It's not easy being Jeeves

Here is my prepared "English Breakfast" in front of the computer where I'm writing.

My overnight plan didn't go exactly as I'd expected; the bread machine was so loud at 3:30 this morning that it woke me up, so I moved it into the guest bathroom where the sound would be least bothersome to the family. Just to ease your mind, this is a bathroom where the toilet and bathtub are behind a separate door. The smell worked out exactly as I'd hoped, though I noticed there was no coffee smell. That is because I programmed my coffeemaker for PM instead of AM. Anyway,at 7:30, here's what I had.

My 1 1/2 lb. loaf of bread and my 4-cup pot of coffee (I was only making the coffee for me). Doesn't that hunk of bread look great? The kind of big bulk that makes you want to sing, "Let us break bread together on our knees." This is the kind of bread that in biblical times could be placed on a table and everyone just pull off a chunk to eat. In fact, I am told people still do this in the middle east. Well, like I said before, I was feeling British, so it needed to be sliced. You know what's the greatest thing since sliced bread? Me, either, but I can understand why that moment split culinary time. Slicing the bread is no easy chore now if you don't have the right knife. I have this small serrated knife that required two separate sawings per slice - one on each side. I wonder when sliced bread came out and when electric knives came out. I often wonder about pre-industrial, pre kitchen-full-of-time-saving-gadgets women and/or their help. Well, I sliced two thin slices for my kids, which turned out kind of uneven, and then sliced two big chunks, which I realized was a much better shape when you can do it. Here are the non-kid slices.

Here are the kids.

Sitting out were the butter, jelly, eggs, microwave steamer bowl, bread machine pain, coffee, and a can of peaches. By 9 A.M. I sat down with the above breakfast. Thinking of all of the conveniences I had, and how long it still took me, my hat is off to all of the house help at Pemberley and Longbourn (no E).

I rang

I am feeling very British and pampered right now. I programmed both my breadmaker and coffeemaker for 6:30 tomorrow morning. The way I hope it works, the coffee will start brewing at 6:30, which is right when I will need to take the bread out of the machine to let it cool for 20 minutes before I slice it. I imagine myself enjoying some coffee while I wait on my bread. Doesn't that sound nice? This is inspired by Jane Austen, directly and indirectly. My husband got me a few Austen-themed gifts for Christmas, and my imagination has luxuriated around Longbourne, Netherfield, and Pemberley. Yes, even Longbourne, because let's face it, even being a shabby aristocrat is still the life. One perk is that someone makes all of your meals for you on a certain schedule. You can even "ring for breakfast" if you want it at an hour earlier than it would customarily be laid out in the house. The thought of ringing for breakfast when it suits you really suited me, so I decided to arrange for my own breakfast to be made. Bread and coffee doesn't make a whole breakfast, especially when little kids are eating with you, but it will be a nice way to start the day. Happiness is being your own cook, maid, and butler. It will be worth it for the aromas alone. *Technical note*: for some reason over the past month my paragraph breaks have disappeared. When I'm composing they're there, but what I see does not translate.

The Gift of Trust

There need to be more post-Christmas songs to ease us out of the holiday season into normal life. The only one I know is "'Til the Season Comes 'Round Again," which I know and love from an Amy Grant album (I couldn't find a good, licensed recording of this song online). Our vacation was very blessed. It wasn't perfect, but it was time together to talk and play and, with relief, rediscover a few things. It was a respite. We took down our Christmas decorations last night and my husband went back to work this morning. We don't proceed full-throttle yet, but vacations cannot last forever, as my associate pastor recently reminded the congregation, and it is time to move into the next season. Last night I was also blessed to find a few Christmas-themed short stories by Harriet Beecher Stowe. It was a great transition from vacation to work. The first story featured the rich reaching out to the poor from charity prompted by visits from angels at Christmas time. This sounds sappy, I realize, but Stowe always makes me believe it. The angels visit the poor family, too, and when the mother, worked to the bone, is about to give up on happiness and hope, the angels give her the Christmas gift of trust. I loved that. Right now, that is the gift I most value - the gift of trusting the Lord with the new season, whatever it brings Spring 2012. I think of the words of the song mentioned above, "May the new year be blessed with good tidings." That is a nice thought. Good or bad, I want to trust.

Date Night

Happiness is... going on a long date with your husband, stretching from afternoon to evening. We saw the new Sherlock Holmes movie. I love spy movies for the same I liked this one: the application of human intelligence and prowess to its fullest potential. It's fictional, but fascinating. They're all preposterous in some way, of course, but still, even seeing imagined genius is satisfying. So, I want to write later about fig leaves in editing. Ebert said something about this film that made me want to watch it- namely, that Guy Ritchie edited this film so that we weren't merely left to guess what was happening during the fight scenes. He said it showed confidence to do so. On one hand, I think the assertion is a true one that certain editing schemes are meant to hide what a film lacks. On the other hand, I was guessing, and confused, during fight scenes. The first time I saw Mission Impossible (the first one) I was thoroughly confused. Watching it later I saw everything fall into place. I definitely want to see the new MI film. As for Sherlock, I understood most of what happened within the last five minutes of the film, and as I said, I enjoyed the parts I talked about. But I wonder, was anyone else as lost as me?