Ignorant Historian

“With the right lever you can move a planet.” – Dune by Frank Herbert (paraphrasing Archimedes)

“What my friends believed [against the Jews]–and believe–is an accumulation of legend, legend which comes to them no more guiltily than the cherry tree story comes to us.” – They Thought They Were Free: The Germans, 1933-1945 by Milton Mayer, p. 142

“And we’re content with the world we know, just adjusted a little for our identities as Christians. That’s precisely why so many of us are so atrophied in our prayers, why our prayers rarely reach the level of ‘groanings too deep for words’.” – Adopted for Life by Russell Moore, p. 55

“I have learned the hard way that ‘well-educated’ doesn’t always mean ‘smart.’ ” – Another Place at the Table by Kathy Harrison, p. 8

“You can be a real jerk sometimes, you know that?”
“Yeah, and you’re the good guy.”
“At least I try.”
“As long as you’re trying to be good, you can do whatever you want.”
“And as long as you’re not trying, you can say whatever you want.”
“So between us, we can do anything. We can rule the world!” – Conversation between Wilson and House, House, “Fidelity”

“It is one thing when the culture doesn’t ‘get’ adoption and so speaks of buying a cat as ‘adopting’ a pet. But when those who follow Christ think the same way, we betray that we miss something crucial about our own salvation.” – Adopted for Life by Russell Moore, p. 19

“We’ll continue to enforce all the laws…especially the immigration laws.” – Joe Arpio, Maricopa County Sherriff

“But I didn’t want to see it, because I would then have had to think about the consequences of seeing it, what followed from seeing it, what I must do to be decent.” – Herr Hildebrandt in They Thought They Were Free: The Germans, 1933-1945 by Milton Mayer, p. 201

“We adopted her when she was 3.  She was the perfect child–healthy, bright and beautiful.  But when Karen turned 4, we began to notice some neurological problems….we have learned that perfect is all about perception.” – Another Place at the Table by Kathy Harrison, p. 8

“…the same lie, at bottom, that dominated the Hitler Youth, the lie that children can educate themselves.  Children who grow up without religion cannot decide about religion for themselves; that’s a fallacy, that people can choose intelligently between what they know and what they don’t know.” – They Thought They Were Free: The Germans, 1933-1945 by Milton Mayer, p. 214

Okay so that day I asked for in order to spin a yarn?  Yeah, it’s going to definitely be 2.  I’m going to TRY to have the story written to post on Monday.  Really, I am.

Nextly, I realize that what I’m about to say to you may end the blissful boredom on my part.

When I look at my schedule for next week, it contains a lot of purple.  We started using Google Calendars at work almost 3 years ago now, but only yesterday did I realize I could seemlessly include my personal calendar without sharing it with my co-workers.  So now, my work things are pink (the guys’ stuff are blue and green) and my personal things are purple.  I feel so much more on top of things now that I can keep up with things visually (I had previously primarily been using the calendar in my head).

So, that gets me back to my purple-filled week next week.  There’s two major things going on: a friends’ wedding (which I’ve volunteered to help decorate and make/serve food for) and Power Camp.

Ahhh, Power Camp.  Power Camp is a sports and

performing arts camp put on by my church for kids in our community.  Two years ago was our first time, and it brought me to my knees.  I have never felt more inadequate while working for children, and I’m usually the type to say, “The more the merrier.”  I had been thrown in to a leader’s role, and only found out that I’d be helping out about 24 hours ahead of time.

Last year, I knew that I would be helping out, but I t

hought that I would be in a helper role, not a teaching role.  Turned out not to be the case, so I got thrown in to teaching about 30 minutes before the first lesson.

This year, I told them they couldn’t shock me.  I knew I was going to teach, so there was nothing they could do to surprise

me.  I’ve already been told what group I’m working with and have talked to my co-leader, and we’ve split up the duties, and everything seems to be in order.   Though I prefer the older kids (and our children’s minister knows it), he put me with the rising kindergarteners because I told him I’d be flexible and that was where the need was.  That’s not a big deal though as I’m familiar with that age, as several of the kids in my group will be in my Sunday School class in a month.

That said, I’ve yet to find out what surprises might be in store for me, so stay tuned on that one.  So basically, I’m telling you all this because I KNOW I’ll need prayer.  Camp is in the evenings Monday through Friday of this coming week, so if you think about it, can you pray for me, but especially to the children that will be there?  For many of them, this will be the first time they’ve ever heard the Gospel.

I hope you all have a great weekend.  You know what I’ll be doing…charging up all my batteries to prepare for the long week!

Photo by Emrank

I’m sorry if you were tuning in today excited for the latest adventures in fiction.  I just wasn’t feeling the creative juices, and I’d rather wait a day (or two–don’t throw things at me, after all, you’re only hurting your screen) than put out something that was sub-par.

Instead, let’s talk about my boring life, okay?  When a friend asks what’s going on with me, I don’t really know what to tell them.  I feel like my life right now is about everyone else’s drama, not my own.  I don’t mean that in a bad way at all.  I’m not complaining, just observing out loud.   I’m glad that I can be there for my friends and they’re not overly demanding, but other than those things, my life is rather bland right now.  I work–but that’s neither boring nor exciting.  I read and watch TV, but there’s not much to share there.  I sleep, but other than Saturday night, that’s rather restful and uneventful, as sleep should be.

So really, the only interesting thing in my life are my friends, but for the most part, those aren’t things that I can share with other friends, leaving my life seemingly boring to the outside.  That’s okay, though, I thrive on “boring.”  Habits and routines are great for me.  Not having boy drama is great for me.  Not having life crises or broken relationships is good for me.

So instead of mourning my boring life, I’m going to thank God for giving me another day and spend some time praying for those whose lives are perhaps more exciting than they’d like.

Photo by Swami Stream

Some time back, I told you about a Puritan prayer that I’ve been memorizing.  Well, I’m still working on memorizing it, as it’s something I work on while I’m brushing my teeth (but only in the evening…I don’t have enough brain cells running in the morning for such an activity).  There’s one phrase in that prayer that’s bugged me for a while:

“I thank thee for…the seats now filled that might have been vacant”

I guess what bugs me about this phrase is that all the seats in my proverbial home are vacant.   There’s no husband in sight and certainly no kids (not even a screaming baby).

Yet, as I continue to reflect on this prayer each night, I’ve come to recognize that many of the seats in my life have been filled.  There’s my family, though far away, I am thankful to have good relationships with.  There’s my roommate and our semi-nightly walks and talks that I enjoy.  There’s my care group at church, who I miss if I don’t see them any given week.

And yes, there are children in my life: all those I am blessed to teach and lead on a weekly basis at church, but that’s not all.  There are also a couple special ones, who, though not my own, I claim: Ladybug and all her 8yo wisdom, curiosity, and love, and “Lana” and all her 13yo silliness, competitiveness, and grown-up struggles.

So instead of mourning the loss pronounced by those vacant seats, I choose to be thankful for the seats that are now filled.

Photo by twoblueday

This past Sunday, our church focused on prayer and repentance, so we taught our little kindergarteners about prayer.  While this age isn’t my favorite to work with (I prefer the older kids: 5th grade and up), this group is growing on me, just like they do every year.

This year’s Sunday school class is especially mature for their age, and fairly tight-knit as well, though they are a large class (we usually have between 15-20 kids each Sunday, though past groups have been in the 10-15 range).  Oh, and they’re mostly boys (we usually have 4 girls there each week).

We three teachers split them up into 3 groups and lead them in praying, and it was neat to see how well they handled taking turns praying in a small group, and the true sincerity in their prayers for their fellow students’ mommies (we have 4 students who will soon have new siblings…our church definitely takes “go forth and multiply” very seriously), missionaries that they personally know, their family and friends who don’t know Jesus, and themselves (specifically, to help them love and obey God).

After my group was done praying, I started asking about when they find it difficult to treasure God (our lesson was from Matthew 6), and the kids were really honest with me.  One girl mentioned that she has a hard time obeying her parents, while another boy mentioned he struggles with lying.  The fact that they understand following God isn’t easy speaks volume to their maturity, even if most of them haven’t yet reached the point of making the faith their own.

This is just a glimpse of why I love working with these children week in and week out.

This makes me sad.

So does this.

This does too, but really, it’s not surprising if you look around.

Yes, America needs revival, and may it start with me.

Sunday’s sermon was out of the end of Hebrews 11. Certainly not a fluffy message, but neither is the gospel.

“Women received back their dead by resurrection; and others were tortured, not accepting their release, so that they might obtain a better resurrection; and others experienced mockings and scourgings, yes, also chains and imprisonment. They were stoned, they were sawn in two, they were tempted, they were put to death with the sword; they went about in sheepskins, in goatskins, being destitute, afflicted, ill-treated (men of whom the world was not worthy), wandering in deserts and mountains and caves and holes in the ground. And all these, having gained approval through their faith, did not receive what was promised, because God had provided something better for us, so that apart from us they would not be made perfect.” – Hebrews 11:35-40, NASU

Though this was written over 1900 years ago, these things are still happening to Christians throughout the world today. Can I be frank enough to admit my first thought was to condemn liberals as hypocrites? They fight for the “rights” to homosexual marriage, abortion, and equal treatment of animals, yet they aren’t fighting for the rights of these people to live and practice their faith without persecution.

Then God gently reminded me that I’m a hypocrite too. What do I do on behalf of these people?
Honestly, the persecuted church isn’t something I think about very much. Who wants to be reminded of the horrors done to others when they can live their comfortable life in ignorance?

There’s not a lot that I can do to these people that suffer. Oh, but the most important thing: pray. I need to pray for those that are put through torture, imprisonment, and more. I can pray that God will provide them with the strength and perseverence that they most desperately need to live, and may their lives be a witness to the truthfulness of their message.

Most of all, Lord, come quickly.

I really love my life. This is the overwhelming thought as I sit here watching football on television in my pajamas (during the day!) after just coming back from picking up new books I’ve received from my apartment’s office. This is a rare post written on Saturday (I almost always schedule my Saturday posts) even though you are just seeing it on Monday.

Sure, I spend more time than I ought longing for more: a disposable income, a date, a boyfriend, a husband, a child, a brood of children calling me “mommy.”

But really, I love my life. I love the free-time, the solitude, the friends, the books, the work, the school, the family, the food, the football, the movies, the blogs. I love the responsibilities of being a student, a teacher, an employee, a churchman, and a friend. I love the relationship I have with my Lord and the opportunities I have to share that love with others.

So I’m choosing to be thankful. I have been overwhelmingly blessed, and I’m going to dwell on these things rather than those things I may wish I have.

This prayer has helped me as I’m seeking to commit it to memory. (source: The Valley of Vision: A Collection of Puritan Prayers and Devotions, edited by Arthur Bennett; emphasis added)

Thou eternal God,
Thine is surpassing greatness, unspeakable goodness, super-abundant grace;
I can as soon count the sands of ocean’s ‘lip’ as number thy favours towards me;
I know but a part, but that part exceeds all praise.

I thank thee for personal mercies,
measures of health, preservation of body,
comforts of house and home, sufficiency of food and clothing,
continuance of mental powers,
my family, their mutual help and support,
the delights of domestic harmony and peace,
the seats now filled that might have been vacant,
my country, church, Bible, faith.

But, O, how I mourn my sin, ingratitude, vileness,
the days that add to my guilt,
the scenes that witness my offending tongue;
All things in heaven, earth, around, within, without, condemn me–
the sun which sees my misdeeds,
the darkness which is light to thee,
the cruel accuser who justly charges me,
the good angels who have been provoked to leave me,
thy countenace which scans my secret sins,
thy righteous law, thy holy Word,
my sin-soiled conscience, my prayer and public life,
my neighbours, myself-
all write dark things against me.

I deny them not, frame no excuse, but confess, ‘Father, I have sinned’.
Yet still I live, and fly repenting to thy outstretched arms;
thou wilt not cast me off, for Jesus brings me near,
thou wilt not condemn me, for he died in my stead,
thou wilt not mark my mountains of sin, for he levelled all,
and his beauty covers my deformities.

O my God, I bid farewell to sin by clinging to his cross,
hiding in his wounds, and sheltering in his side.

I don’t struggle with anxiety all the time. Not to look down on those who do, but this is not a major struggle in my life. But every once in a while, anxiety and worry will sneak up on my and I find my emotions and my thoughts so overtaken with it. It kind of reminds me of gardening in a rainy spring. If I neglect weeding for even a few days, the garden will soon look like nothing but weeds.

[Side note: I don't have a garden now, but we always did growing up. Weeding often was my job, and one I didn't care for too much. Regardless, I hope to have a garden of my own one day. There's nothing more refreshing than a fresh-picked cucumber.]

This morning as I was driving to work listening to the usual political banter on the radio, I found my thoughts flitting between one worry to another. As I sat stuck in traffic, I had to turn the radio off and pray, turning this worries and cares over to God. When I look back on situations like these, I realize how dumb I was to worry about them, but I wish I could always remember that at the time.

I’ll be meditating on Matthew 6:25-34 today:

“For this reason I say to you, do not be worried about your life, as to what you will eat or what you will drink; nor for your body, as to what you will put on. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothing?

Look at the birds of the air, that they do not sow, nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not worth much more than they?

And who of you by being worried can add a single hour to his life?

And why are you worried about clothing? Observe how the lilies of the field grow; they do not toil nor do they spin,

yet I say to you that not even Solomon in all his glory clothed himself like one of these.

But if God so clothes the grass of the field, which is alive today and tomorrow is thrown into the furnace, will He not much more clothe you? You of little faith!

Do not worry then, saying, ‘What will we eat?’ or ‘What will we drink?’ or ‘What will we wear for clothing?’

For the Gentiles eagerly seek all these things; for your heavenly Father knows that you need all these things.

But seek first His kingdom and His righteousness, and all these things will be added to you.

So do not worry about tomorrow; for tomorrow will care for itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.”