The stars hung bright in the dark sky as I tumbled through the brush, a cup of cider sloshing in my hand. I stood chatting with the college's president and his wife about their time in Kenya, and cold tendrils of silvery air bit at my nose and hands. Eventually I moved into the circle of students around the bonfire, and sat huddled with Julie as we sang hymn after hymn.
By the time we left the warmth of fire and song, the moon was high in the sky--so bright. Julie, Nathan and I walked to the car. Beside us a freshly-harvested field yawned, stretching up to the sky. Grabbing Julie's hand, I ran up the hill, toward the tip of stars. Throwing arms in air, we twirled and twirled. Laughing, we fell to the ground and stared up at the spinning skies.
Like drunk sailors, we tripped back down the hill and piled into the car. Living in this land of visible stars and rolling hills and August-chill is a bit like wandering around in a dream-world. Guess it's a good thing I'm quite comfortable dreaming.
Saturday, August 28, 2010
Monday, August 9, 2010
New Blog!
Dear Readers,
Due to issues with picture-posting, I had to create a new blog. The URL is www.talirosewhispers.blogspot.com. Head on over and check it out to follow my travels through Idaho! ;)
Much Love,
Tali Rose
Due to issues with picture-posting, I had to create a new blog. The URL is www.talirosewhispers.blogspot.com. Head on over and check it out to follow my travels through Idaho! ;)
Much Love,
Tali Rose
Sunday, August 1, 2010
Everything is Illuminated
While in Oklahoma, I picked out this film to watch--despite skepticism from my family. Although none of them cared for it (in fact, my daddy stopped watching halfway through), I thought it was excellent.
It's a story of memories, of collecting pieces of the past. The main character, Jonathan (convincingly portrayed by Elijah Wood), wears big glasses, doesn't eat meat, and has a collection of memories in ziploc baggies tacked to a wall. In a search to find the story behind a photograph of his grandfather and a woman named Augustine, he ends up in the company of a Ukrainian grandpa and grandson. As they journey across the planes of Ukraine, a tale of depth unfolds amidst the bald humor of language confusion, Sammy Davis Jr. Jr. (the deranged dog), and a bizarre music soundtrack. What began an off-beat indie film, ended a poignant tribute to the strength of friendship, the twists of love, and the importance of clinging to memories. For, as Jonathan learned, "everything is illuminated in the light of the past. It is always along the side of us, on the inside, looking out."
It's a story of memories, of collecting pieces of the past. The main character, Jonathan (convincingly portrayed by Elijah Wood), wears big glasses, doesn't eat meat, and has a collection of memories in ziploc baggies tacked to a wall. In a search to find the story behind a photograph of his grandfather and a woman named Augustine, he ends up in the company of a Ukrainian grandpa and grandson. As they journey across the planes of Ukraine, a tale of depth unfolds amidst the bald humor of language confusion, Sammy Davis Jr. Jr. (the deranged dog), and a bizarre music soundtrack. What began an off-beat indie film, ended a poignant tribute to the strength of friendship, the twists of love, and the importance of clinging to memories. For, as Jonathan learned, "everything is illuminated in the light of the past. It is always along the side of us, on the inside, looking out."
Wednesday, July 28, 2010
A Poem
by e.e. cummings
i carry your heart with me(i carry it in
my heart)i am never without it(anywhere
i go you go,my dear; and whatever is done
by only me is your doing,my darling)
i fear
no fate(for you are my fate,my sweet)i want
no world(for beautiful you are my world,my true)
and it's you are whatever a moon has always meant
and whatever a sun will always sing is you
here is the deepest secret nobody knows
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows
higher than the soul can hope or mind can hide)
and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart
i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)
i carry your heart with me(i carry it in
my heart)i am never without it(anywhere
i go you go,my dear; and whatever is done
by only me is your doing,my darling)
i fear
no fate(for you are my fate,my sweet)i want
no world(for beautiful you are my world,my true)
and it's you are whatever a moon has always meant
and whatever a sun will always sing is you
here is the deepest secret nobody knows
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows
higher than the soul can hope or mind can hide)
and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart
i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)
Saturday, July 17, 2010
மி டே
My day in likes and dislikes:
I like bike rides.
I don't like flat tires.
I like Rock Springs.
I don't like sharp stones.
I like curly hair.
I don't like sitting in the salon for three hours.
I like the dog I'm petsitting.
I don't like slobber.
I like walking barefoot.
I don't like blisters.
I like clean houses.
I don't want to clean.
I like bike rides.
I don't like flat tires.
I like Rock Springs.
I don't like sharp stones.
I like curly hair.
I don't like sitting in the salon for three hours.
I like the dog I'm petsitting.
I don't like slobber.
I like walking barefoot.
I don't like blisters.
I like clean houses.
I don't want to clean.
Wednesday, July 14, 2010
Huntman
Our shadows hold hands as we walk down the street, hand around fingers. The outline of his baggy overalls hangs loose; the frizz on my curls bounces high. Tears sneak into my eyes, catch in my lashes, drip onto my glasses--this is my last day as Hunter's nanny.
Eight months ago, I drove to the front of the neighborhood to meet with the couple who had responded to my nanny ad in the Spring Valley newsletter. I was greeted by the smiling faces of Aimee and Rodney, and I held Hunter for the first time: a little baby in blue footie pajamas.
One month after that, I started watching Hunter two days a week. And I fell in love with him. As I have watched him grow from that cooing infant to a walking, garbling toddler, my love for him has also grown. His smiles make my heart dance; I love the way he reaches his chubby arms for me, follows me around, cries when I walk out of the room.
Now I'm going much farther than just around the corner. This morning I have held him close, kissed him long, dreading saying goodbye. Of course, it is not goodbye forever. But I know that when I come home, he won't know me as he knows me now. I pray that he won't forget me, but he's just a baby...they're not like elephants; they don't remember long.
So as he sleeps now, I stare at his curling hair, his button nose, his chubby cheeks. I will not forget.
Saturday, July 10, 2010
Dead Poets
While I was sick, I watched "Dead Poets Society." I love that movie.
Although its message is devoid of Christ, there is much Truth within it. As believers living in this world, it is imperative for us to be able to trace worldly reflections back to their heavenly source. One of the main points of the film is the idea of "carpe diem," or seizing the day. Instead of running mad with that phrase and using it as argument for living however we please, Christians ought see it as inspiration to live for Christ. Here. Now. We must seize every opportunity to show Christ's love to the world.
Life is short.
Our days are but a breath, a whisper upon the earth. We need to suck the marrow out of life, to pulse with the heartbeat of God, to live deliberately for the Gospel.
How can a follower of Jesus be blase or passive? We must be passionate--the conquerors of this world! God calls us to subdue and dominate the earth. How can we do that unless we are brave enough to sound our barbaric yawps over the rooftops of the world?
Wednesday, July 7, 2010
Friday, July 2, 2010
A Week in the Wilderness (Part V)
Home Again
I'm home now, but camp remains with me. Literally. Some sort of infection (probably merca) came home with me. I'll spare you the gory details except to say I have a band-aid plastered across my forehead, a massive red blotch on my back, I'm on antibiotics, and it hurts!
There is so much more I could say about how wonderful VSO was, but I'll restrain myself. ;)
I'm home now, but camp remains with me. Literally. Some sort of infection (probably merca) came home with me. I'll spare you the gory details except to say I have a band-aid plastered across my forehead, a massive red blotch on my back, I'm on antibiotics, and it hurts!
There is so much more I could say about how wonderful VSO was, but I'll restrain myself. ;)
Wednesday, June 30, 2010
A Week in the Wilderness (Part IV)
The Hike
We spent two days on the Appalachian Trail, hiking through thick woods and fording icy streams. After arriving at our campsite the first night and setting up tents, we ran to the stream that bubbled along beside the trail. Wading into the water, we fought chills and shivers and submerged ourselves in the freezing water. There was a series of waterfalls that led down to a big watering hole, and all of us went down there to swim. When the coldness became too much, we crawled out and curled up on the warm rocks, like snakes basking in the sun.
Later that evening, I set off alone down the stream, hopping from rock to rock. I will never be able to describe the feeling of that little expedition--the simple, wild joy of being alone with the trees and rocks and water. A joy so strong I shouted with laughter.
That night we sat around the campfire together and ate burritos straight from the coals. All of us were dirty and smelly, but I found everything fresh and beautiful. Living with nature is so...free. I love not caring if my bare feet are dirty, or if my hair looks funny. It's oddly exciting to take my water bottle and a water purifier, and stroll over to the stream to get a drink. I love hearing the birds and watching the bugs and just being outside. Of course, I am still drenched in suburbia. As I was going to sleep that night (nice and cozy in a one man tent with Wendi), I spotted a Daddy Long Legs crawling up the side of the tent. Gently, I scooped him up and tossed him out. Nestling back down into my sleeping bag, I closed my eyes and--felt tickley, long legs creeping across my bare stomach!
The next morning we cleaned up camp and started hiking again. Although we had to go frustratingly slow, it was an exciting hike--especially the life-threatening parts on the side of a cliff! Halfway through the hike, we stopped at a waterfall that formed a natural water slide. So fun! Why don't I live in the wilderness all the time?
We spent two days on the Appalachian Trail, hiking through thick woods and fording icy streams. After arriving at our campsite the first night and setting up tents, we ran to the stream that bubbled along beside the trail. Wading into the water, we fought chills and shivers and submerged ourselves in the freezing water. There was a series of waterfalls that led down to a big watering hole, and all of us went down there to swim. When the coldness became too much, we crawled out and curled up on the warm rocks, like snakes basking in the sun.
Later that evening, I set off alone down the stream, hopping from rock to rock. I will never be able to describe the feeling of that little expedition--the simple, wild joy of being alone with the trees and rocks and water. A joy so strong I shouted with laughter.
That night we sat around the campfire together and ate burritos straight from the coals. All of us were dirty and smelly, but I found everything fresh and beautiful. Living with nature is so...free. I love not caring if my bare feet are dirty, or if my hair looks funny. It's oddly exciting to take my water bottle and a water purifier, and stroll over to the stream to get a drink. I love hearing the birds and watching the bugs and just being outside. Of course, I am still drenched in suburbia. As I was going to sleep that night (nice and cozy in a one man tent with Wendi), I spotted a Daddy Long Legs crawling up the side of the tent. Gently, I scooped him up and tossed him out. Nestling back down into my sleeping bag, I closed my eyes and--felt tickley, long legs creeping across my bare stomach!
The next morning we cleaned up camp and started hiking again. Although we had to go frustratingly slow, it was an exciting hike--especially the life-threatening parts on the side of a cliff! Halfway through the hike, we stopped at a waterfall that formed a natural water slide. So fun! Why don't I live in the wilderness all the time?
Monday, June 28, 2010
A Week in the Wilderness (Part III)
Downy
His vertebrae are fused together. His body eats proteins, so he can't build muscle. A week after his doctor gave him clearance to do any type of physically activity, he was stuffed in a van on his way to high adventure camp. Throughout the week, I watched in amazement as he fought against his disabilities and participated in almost every activity.
On the last day, he and I swam from a rock outcropping where everyone was playing to shore. Although he had to stop and rest several times, he finished the distance swimming strong. As we pulled ourselves out of the water and plopped onto the ground, he was brimming with excitement, delighted at his ability to accomplish what was so physically challenging.
When I asked him what his favorite part of the week had been, he answered promptly: the last twenty minutes of the hike. Suddenly he felt like he was strong, like he could keep up with the fastest of the campers. Over the week he had grown--physically and spiritually--and it was so encouraging to see how a week in the wilderness can transform.
His vertebrae are fused together. His body eats proteins, so he can't build muscle. A week after his doctor gave him clearance to do any type of physically activity, he was stuffed in a van on his way to high adventure camp. Throughout the week, I watched in amazement as he fought against his disabilities and participated in almost every activity.
On the last day, he and I swam from a rock outcropping where everyone was playing to shore. Although he had to stop and rest several times, he finished the distance swimming strong. As we pulled ourselves out of the water and plopped onto the ground, he was brimming with excitement, delighted at his ability to accomplish what was so physically challenging.
When I asked him what his favorite part of the week had been, he answered promptly: the last twenty minutes of the hike. Suddenly he felt like he was strong, like he could keep up with the fastest of the campers. Over the week he had grown--physically and spiritually--and it was so encouraging to see how a week in the wilderness can transform.
Sunday, June 27, 2010
A Week in the Wilderness (Part II)
The Cliff
Canoe paddles in water--stroke, stroke. Across the lake as the sun hung low in the sky. And then there it was, looming above me. The cliff. They'd been talking about it all day. Forty feet. Bare rock. Deep water. Jumping off. I was nervous, but I was going to do it. Scrambling up the side of the cliff, I quickly reached the rocky surface and glanced over the edge.
Forty feet is really high.
Fear like I have never known before ripped goosebumps all over my skin, and shook my whole body. All I had to do was step over the edge, just one little step! But I couldn't do it. I was petrified. While camper after camper strode by me and leaped over the edge, I stood back, fighting against myself. Michael prayed with me, Peter cajoled me, all my friends down in the water (so far below!) screamed and shouted and encouraged. Time after time I crept to the edge, ready to jump, and slunk back shaking with sobs, terror, and frustration.
I couldn't do it.
It was such a humbling reminder of my weakness, of my inability to be complete alone. Jumping off that cliff was, of course, unnecessary. But it served as a reminder that although I like to think myself self-reliant and independent, I'm not. I need Jesus to lift me up, to give me grace, to hold me tight when the cliffs of life set me trembling and crying. How thankful I am for the persistent love of my Saviour!
Canoe paddles in water--stroke, stroke. Across the lake as the sun hung low in the sky. And then there it was, looming above me. The cliff. They'd been talking about it all day. Forty feet. Bare rock. Deep water. Jumping off. I was nervous, but I was going to do it. Scrambling up the side of the cliff, I quickly reached the rocky surface and glanced over the edge.
Forty feet is really high.
Fear like I have never known before ripped goosebumps all over my skin, and shook my whole body. All I had to do was step over the edge, just one little step! But I couldn't do it. I was petrified. While camper after camper strode by me and leaped over the edge, I stood back, fighting against myself. Michael prayed with me, Peter cajoled me, all my friends down in the water (so far below!) screamed and shouted and encouraged. Time after time I crept to the edge, ready to jump, and slunk back shaking with sobs, terror, and frustration.
I couldn't do it.
It was such a humbling reminder of my weakness, of my inability to be complete alone. Jumping off that cliff was, of course, unnecessary. But it served as a reminder that although I like to think myself self-reliant and independent, I'm not. I need Jesus to lift me up, to give me grace, to hold me tight when the cliffs of life set me trembling and crying. How thankful I am for the persistent love of my Saviour!
Saturday, June 26, 2010
A Week in the Wilderness (Part I)
I spent the past week being counselor at Venturescape Outdoors in North Carolina. It was a beautiful time of freedom in the wilderness, of doing life with the other campser, working together, exploring God's creation, and just loving one another. Because it was such an incredibly wonderful week, and I have a lot to say about it, I'm going to share my experiences in several different posts.
The Cave
Tendrils of cold air snaked out into the humidity and drew me to the entrance of the cave. As I lowered myself through a small hole in the ground into the chill darkness of the underworld, nervousness crept around my stomach. Dots of light from headlamps bounced off the slippery rocks and flickered across the cavern walls. At first I stepped hesitantly, unsure of myself in this strange surrounding of clay and slick rock. After a few moments, however, I began to relax and became perfectly comfortable walking, crawling, climbing through the cave.
I loved the feeling of power in my hands as I lifted myself onto a particularly high rock, or the thrill of stepping over the entrance to a deep hole that could kill me if I stepped wrong. In certain places we had to wriggle through tunnels; in one spot we crawled on elbows and knees through stalagmites and stalactites and freezing, muddy water. At one point, we all sat together in an open area and sang hymns, the music resounding around us. When we reemerged into the sunlight, every one of us was drenched in mud and guano (bat poo--gross, eh?), and covered in smiles.
The Cave
Tendrils of cold air snaked out into the humidity and drew me to the entrance of the cave. As I lowered myself through a small hole in the ground into the chill darkness of the underworld, nervousness crept around my stomach. Dots of light from headlamps bounced off the slippery rocks and flickered across the cavern walls. At first I stepped hesitantly, unsure of myself in this strange surrounding of clay and slick rock. After a few moments, however, I began to relax and became perfectly comfortable walking, crawling, climbing through the cave.
I loved the feeling of power in my hands as I lifted myself onto a particularly high rock, or the thrill of stepping over the entrance to a deep hole that could kill me if I stepped wrong. In certain places we had to wriggle through tunnels; in one spot we crawled on elbows and knees through stalagmites and stalactites and freezing, muddy water. At one point, we all sat together in an open area and sang hymns, the music resounding around us. When we reemerged into the sunlight, every one of us was drenched in mud and guano (bat poo--gross, eh?), and covered in smiles.
Thursday, June 17, 2010
From Triathlons to Food
It appears I'm never going to post about my triathlon, since I'm still having picture trouble. If you'd like to look at some photos from that weekend, feel free to check out Jessie's blog.
And now for food, since that is the logical progression of any working mind... Good food paints life with color. Just think how much better a hot summer day is with watermelon juice dribbling down your chin, and little black seeds dotting the sidewalk around you. Picture coming home after an afternoon swim and grilling up some hamburgers--to be eaten with oh-so-crisp and fresh lettuce, tomato, and onion. Imagine playing catch in the early evening sun, and coming in for a big bowl of ice cream. You see, food (good food)gives people a reason to gather together, to stop being busy and crowd onto the benches of my kitchen table, to talk and laugh and EAT.
When I wake up in the morning, my first thought is of breakfast. While I run or bike or swim, I dream up what I'll eat the moment I get home. During breakfast, I plan lunch. At lunchtime, I think of ideas for dinner. (And, of course, there are all those snacks in between!) There is such excitement in preparing food!
This morning, after a nice jog with Mollie, I had a piece of cheese toast topped with onion, tomato, and a fried egg, along with a couple slices of watermelon. Already I've gotten the chicken out to thaw for today's lunch: Oat Chicken Pieces, broccoli, and cantaloupe--oh, and blueberries! Mr. Ibarguen just brought a carton of just-picked, garden-fresh blueberries. Noon can't come too soon. ;)
And now for food, since that is the logical progression of any working mind... Good food paints life with color. Just think how much better a hot summer day is with watermelon juice dribbling down your chin, and little black seeds dotting the sidewalk around you. Picture coming home after an afternoon swim and grilling up some hamburgers--to be eaten with oh-so-crisp and fresh lettuce, tomato, and onion. Imagine playing catch in the early evening sun, and coming in for a big bowl of ice cream. You see, food (good food)gives people a reason to gather together, to stop being busy and crowd onto the benches of my kitchen table, to talk and laugh and EAT.
When I wake up in the morning, my first thought is of breakfast. While I run or bike or swim, I dream up what I'll eat the moment I get home. During breakfast, I plan lunch. At lunchtime, I think of ideas for dinner. (And, of course, there are all those snacks in between!) There is such excitement in preparing food!
This morning, after a nice jog with Mollie, I had a piece of cheese toast topped with onion, tomato, and a fried egg, along with a couple slices of watermelon. Already I've gotten the chicken out to thaw for today's lunch: Oat Chicken Pieces, broccoli, and cantaloupe--oh, and blueberries! Mr. Ibarguen just brought a carton of just-picked, garden-fresh blueberries. Noon can't come too soon. ;)
Sunday, June 13, 2010
Urgggh!
I have spent the last hour working on my blog. I got on this thing to write about my triathlon. First, however, I decided I really wanted to change my background. Simple, right? For me--not so! After forever and a day, I somehow got that to work. But now my computer is being all weird about uploading photos. So...don't hold your breath till the pictures are up, because it might take awhile. But stay tuned!
Thursday, June 10, 2010
Freedom, not Independence
"God's work in our lives doesn't lead to self-independence, but to a further realization of the need of dependence--strictly on Him." (Tyler Burgett)
Friday, June 4, 2010
Santa...or Grace?
The pale green undersides of the oak leaves twisted in the wind as the black clouds unfurled. Rain drops smacked against the windows of my car; Ella began to fuss in the back. As I chattered on to distract the girls from the storm, we somehow landed on the topic of Santa Claus.
"If we're good," one of the girls stated, "then Santa will bring us presents. But if we're bad, we don't get anything."
For whatever reason, hearing that Santa Claus philosophy from a little girl broke my heart. It's what we all believe, isn't it? Even as Christians preaching grace, how often we run back to the "Santa Claus" God, thinking--if I'm good, God will love me more; if I'm bad, he'll turn from me.
But that is not the Gospel! While we were yet sinners, Christ loved us. It's such amazing news because we don't have to do anything. That's the gritty beauty of it: while we were drenched in the blood of our damnation, Jesus Christ shed his pure blood--for us. Mysteriously, breathtakingly, that outpouring cleansed his chosen people, and because of that grace, we are made alive, free, without condemnation.
So why do we chase after Santa Claus? Why do I try to earn salvation, when the only way it can be mine is by Christ earning it for me? Father, breathe your grace over me. Let it fill the holes in my life, and shine out of me pieces of your love.
"If we're good," one of the girls stated, "then Santa will bring us presents. But if we're bad, we don't get anything."
For whatever reason, hearing that Santa Claus philosophy from a little girl broke my heart. It's what we all believe, isn't it? Even as Christians preaching grace, how often we run back to the "Santa Claus" God, thinking--if I'm good, God will love me more; if I'm bad, he'll turn from me.
But that is not the Gospel! While we were yet sinners, Christ loved us. It's such amazing news because we don't have to do anything. That's the gritty beauty of it: while we were drenched in the blood of our damnation, Jesus Christ shed his pure blood--for us. Mysteriously, breathtakingly, that outpouring cleansed his chosen people, and because of that grace, we are made alive, free, without condemnation.
So why do we chase after Santa Claus? Why do I try to earn salvation, when the only way it can be mine is by Christ earning it for me? Father, breathe your grace over me. Let it fill the holes in my life, and shine out of me pieces of your love.
Thursday, May 27, 2010
Off We Go A'wassling
A'whatling? A'nashvilleing! Yes, I'm leaving for Nashville at 5:00am tomorrow. And I haven't finished packing. I need to wash some grapes. And I left my water bottle at a wedding gig.
Don't miss me too much.
I just might return with pictures.
Don't miss me too much.
I just might return with pictures.
Monday, May 24, 2010
The Dog Race
The dogs are led out in muzzles and jerseys, dancing and pulling at their leashes. Boys in blue shirts lead them into gates: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, and white panels shut them in. A voice comes out over the loudspeakers, quiet at our picnic table, and bored--not excited, like me--announcing the names of the dogs. Jessie, David, Shane, and I stand against the chain-link fence, leaning toward the track, waiting. "Here comes Swifty!" proclaims the voice, and a little car-like creature with a stuffed bunny attached to it shoots by. The gates swing up and the dogs are out, not running but flying. We chose number six, Phil's* Shane, (sure to win with a name like that). At first he was last, but half way round he surged forward and overtook the other dogs. My hands were in the air as he rounded the bend, my voice growing hoarse from cheering--and then he was there, the finish line, and he was first!
Out of the eight races we watched, Phil's Shane was the only dog we chose who won. But that didn't diminish the excitement of the races one bit. As soon as the dogs shot out from their gates, I was screaming at my dog, willing him to win. Who knew my heart would have become so entangled in a dog race? If you've never been to one, you ought to go. It's fascinating, it's fun, and it's free!
*Apostrophe added for the benefit of myself and any other grammar freaks out there. ;)
Out of the eight races we watched, Phil's Shane was the only dog we chose who won. But that didn't diminish the excitement of the races one bit. As soon as the dogs shot out from their gates, I was screaming at my dog, willing him to win. Who knew my heart would have become so entangled in a dog race? If you've never been to one, you ought to go. It's fascinating, it's fun, and it's free!
*Apostrophe added for the benefit of myself and any other grammar freaks out there. ;)
Monday, May 17, 2010
City of Light
(I just wrote the last essay I will ever write for Great Books II. In honor of this momentous occasion, I decided to post the essay here. If I were you, I doubt I would take the time to read it. But I paste it here for posterity's sake ;)
Exordium
Beauty is the shadow. Beauty is the night, and it is the darkness. Beauty is brokenness and struggle. It is tears and ache of heart. It is these things because they prove the sunshine, they reveal the light. They give hope for the triumph. Beauty is seeing and hoping for light in darkness.
Narratio
Pain and struggle richly glorify the power and dignity of the Lord, who uses evil to intensify beauty.
Divisio
Evil magnifies God and intensifies beauty in many different ways; this essay will explore four of those ways. One, evil shows how great God is, because rather than just prevent evil, he is able to turn it into good. Two, iniquity creates a stark backdrop for grace, for there is no grace without punishment, nor redemption without sin. Three, although he did not create evil, God uses it as a poet uses antithesis: for beauty. Lastly, the hardships of this life cause the citizens of the city of God to long for heaven.
Confirmatio
God’s power is so great, that rather than just prevent evil, he can take evil and bring out of it good. In his perfect, mysterious wisdom, the Lord deemed “it to be more befitting His power and goodness to bring good out of evil than to prevent the evil from coming into existence” (Augustine, City of God, 811). Rather than create robotic humans who perfectly obeyed him, he gave Adam and Eve the ability to choose sin or righteousness. They chose sin. Because of this choice, a curse was cast upon them and all their descendants. Yet through this black curse, light shone. At the same moment sin entered the garden, a promise was spoken. Thousands of years before the Messiah was to come to earth, God promised redemption. In Genesis 3:15, the “proto-evangelium” (first Gospel) was proclaimed: “I will put enmity between you and the woman, and between your offspring and her offspring; he shall bruise your head, and you shall bruise his heel” (ESV). This was an epically historic moment. God declared that even in the midst of the enmity between man and the devil, there was hope. The Lord spoke of Christ, who was to conquer the death brought to man by the curse. Clearly, evil does not exist because God was powerless to stop it, but because God “foresaw what good he himself would bring out of evil” (Augustine, City of God, 811). Through this existence of evil, greater glory is brought to God, for it emphasizes his almighty power, and highlights his perfect, sovereign goodness.
Evil also highlights grace. Without punishment there can be no grace, and without iniquity redemption could not exist. In his classic novel Les Miserables, Victor Hugo writes of an encounter between an infamous convict, Jean Valjean, and Bienvenu, a humble bishop. When Jean Valjean sought refuge for a night in the bishop’s home, the priest welcomed him with open heart. In spite of the kindness that was shown to him, the convict snuck into the bishop’s room in the black of night, stole a set of silver plates, and slunk out of the house.
Early the next morning, he was caught by the authorities and dragged back to the bishop’s. Walking slowly toward the gendarmes holding Jean Valjean, the old bishop greeted the hardened convict, saying, “I am glad to see you. But! I gave you the candlesticks also…Why did you not take them along with your plates?” (Hugo, Les Miserables, pg. 38) At the bishop’s affirmation that the silver was not stolen, but had been a gift, the gendarmes released Valjean. Overwhelmed by this act of astonishing grace, and encouraged by Bienvenu to “use this silver to become an honest man (pg 39),” from that day forth Valjean turned to God and reformed his life. If Valjean had not been a convict—if sin had not existed—this story of grace that has touched people for hundreds of years, would never have been written. As Romans 5:20 puts it: “but where sin increased, grace abounded all the more.” In the blackness of sin, light shines: bright, beautiful.
Although God is not the author of evil, he foreknew its existence, and preordained what good use he would make of it. As Augustine states: “God would never have created any…whose future wickedness he foreknew, unless he had equally known to what uses in behalf of the good he could turn him, thus embellishing the course of the ages, as it were an exquisite poem set off with antitheses” (City of God, pg 361). For example, the terrorist attack on the Twin Towers in 2001 killed thousands and shook people across the country. In and of itself, it was a wicked tragedy. God, however, used that disaster for much good. Just months after those two buildings crumbled, smoke and flames billowing across the island, my mother went to New York City. Swaddled in a turquoise coat—a Floridian freezing in the New York cold—she passed out “survival kits” and shared the Gospel with anyone who would listen. Because they were so raw from the recent calamity, many people did listen, and reaching for hope, turned to Christ.
Because he had prescience of future adversity, God created people in such a way that the struggle of light and dark is an innate piece of humanity. In a daedal work of embroidery, a skillful embroiderer weaves in dark and light threads, for it is more pleasing to the eye to have a “lively work, upon a sad and solemn ground, than to have a dark and melancholy work, upon a lightsome ground” (Bacon, Of Adversity). This is also true in paintings and photographs, where artists use shadows to highlight the subject of the artwork. Artists’ use of the opposition of light and dark in art is merely a reflection of God’s use of evil and good in the story of life, a story made beautiful by conflict. As Augustine says, “As…oppositions of contraries lend beauty to the language, so the beauty of the course of this world is achieved by the opposition of contraries, arranged…by an eloquence not of words, but of things” (City of God, pg. 362)
Though the opposition of contraries creates a more glorious story overall, each long day is a struggle, and each moment wrought with a multitude of hardships. These tribulations cause God’s people to long for heaven, where “He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore” (Rev. 21:4). A biblical example of a life truly wrought with struggle is the story of Job. In that cosmic argument between God and the devil, everything was stripped from Job. Satan wanted to prove that Job only worshipped the Lord because he had been blessed with great wealth. Since God knew that Job worshipped him from the heart, he gave permission to the devil to torment Job.
First the devil took Job’s property: oxen, donkeys, sheep, and goats. Next he struck down his servants. Then he killed his family. Finally, he attacked Job’s health, causing great boils to rise all over his body. Amongst doubts and pleas to the Lord, Job remained strong in his faith. Despite his (mostly) unwavering trust in the Lord, he longed desperately to be released from struggle. As he sat in dust and ashes, he cried out: “Let the day perish on which I was born!” (Job 3:3). Because of the trials he suffered, Job greatly desired heaven. Of course, this is a dramatic example. For most people, especially in modern Western society, hardship comes in lesser forms. Yet life is still a struggle, and hope is in leaving this world behind and entering into eternal peace in heaven. As Augustine so grittily puts it, “From this hell upon earth there is no escape, save through the grace of the Savior Christ, our God and Lord,” the grace which will take the citizens of the city of God finally Home (Augustine, City of God, 848).
Confutatio
Some may think that since God uses evil to make the story of life more beautiful, it is unnecessary to feed the hungry, care for the orphans, and give to the poor. If struggle makes life beautiful, they may assert, then why attempt to reduce struggle? The answer is that God has clearly called his people to care for the downtrodden. In ancient times, God forbade the Israelites to strip their field completely bare; they were to leave gleanings for the poor (Lev. 19:9-10). It was also forbidden to charge a poor man interest on a loan (Ex. 22:25), or to take a necessity of life from a poor man for collateral (Ex. 22:26-27).
Throughout the Proverbs, God instructs his people to give ear to the poor and downtrodden, to "speak up for those who cannot speak for themselves, for the rights of all who are destitute. Speak up and judge fairly; defend the rights of the poor and needy” (Prov. 31:8-9). God’s compassion for the oppressed, however, is not confined to the Old Testament. When Christ began his ministry on earth, he completely redefined helping the poor. Instead of simply defending their rights, he befriended them. Rather than just give them food, he ate with them. He laughed at their joys, and cried with their sorrow.
In fact, Jesus Christ loved the poor so deeply that he said to his disciples: “For I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me, I was naked and you clothed me, I was sick and you visited me, I was in prison and you came to me…truly, I say to you, as you did it to one of the least of these my brothers, you did it to me” (Matt. 21:35-40). The children of God are called to fight against evil and strive to breathe lives of love, grace, and compassion.
Conclusio
Even when God’s people are living lives of grace and compassion, darkness lurks on the edges of light. Yet the Lord uses this evil to magnify himself and intensify beauty in many different ways. One way is that evil shows how great God is, because rather than just prevent evil, he is able to turn it into good. Another was is that iniquity creates a stark backdrop for grace, for there is no grace without punishment, nor redemption without sin. A third way is that although he did not create evil, God uses it as a poet uses antithesis: for beauty. Lastly, the hardships of this life cause the citizens of the city of God to long for heaven.
But God does not only use sorrow and pain and struggle to magnify the glory of this story of life—he also uses his children, who he has called to fight against the evil. That is the beauty of the story: the struggle between good and evil, righteous and unrighteous, darkness and light. The overarching beauty is that the conflict has already been resolved. Good will triumph over evil, righteousness will defeat iniquity. And the story will continue forever in the light of Jesus Christ’s victory.
In this present time, however, in the struggle of the “already but not yet,” we wait for the revelation of total redemption. While we wait, we must engage in the struggle. God has not saved us to remain timid, passive Christians; he has created us to be warriors in a battle against spiritual darkness. This not a battle fought with a sword, but with hearts, by love. In Ephesians 5, Paul exhorts believers to “walk in love, as Christ loved us…” and to “…walk as children of light.” Let us live by these words. Let us enter into the conflict of the story of life bearing flames. Let us carry light into the surrounding darkness and live as strong members of the city of God, a city of light.
Exordium
Beauty is the shadow. Beauty is the night, and it is the darkness. Beauty is brokenness and struggle. It is tears and ache of heart. It is these things because they prove the sunshine, they reveal the light. They give hope for the triumph. Beauty is seeing and hoping for light in darkness.
Narratio
Pain and struggle richly glorify the power and dignity of the Lord, who uses evil to intensify beauty.
Divisio
Evil magnifies God and intensifies beauty in many different ways; this essay will explore four of those ways. One, evil shows how great God is, because rather than just prevent evil, he is able to turn it into good. Two, iniquity creates a stark backdrop for grace, for there is no grace without punishment, nor redemption without sin. Three, although he did not create evil, God uses it as a poet uses antithesis: for beauty. Lastly, the hardships of this life cause the citizens of the city of God to long for heaven.
Confirmatio
God’s power is so great, that rather than just prevent evil, he can take evil and bring out of it good. In his perfect, mysterious wisdom, the Lord deemed “it to be more befitting His power and goodness to bring good out of evil than to prevent the evil from coming into existence” (Augustine, City of God, 811). Rather than create robotic humans who perfectly obeyed him, he gave Adam and Eve the ability to choose sin or righteousness. They chose sin. Because of this choice, a curse was cast upon them and all their descendants. Yet through this black curse, light shone. At the same moment sin entered the garden, a promise was spoken. Thousands of years before the Messiah was to come to earth, God promised redemption. In Genesis 3:15, the “proto-evangelium” (first Gospel) was proclaimed: “I will put enmity between you and the woman, and between your offspring and her offspring; he shall bruise your head, and you shall bruise his heel” (ESV). This was an epically historic moment. God declared that even in the midst of the enmity between man and the devil, there was hope. The Lord spoke of Christ, who was to conquer the death brought to man by the curse. Clearly, evil does not exist because God was powerless to stop it, but because God “foresaw what good he himself would bring out of evil” (Augustine, City of God, 811). Through this existence of evil, greater glory is brought to God, for it emphasizes his almighty power, and highlights his perfect, sovereign goodness.
Evil also highlights grace. Without punishment there can be no grace, and without iniquity redemption could not exist. In his classic novel Les Miserables, Victor Hugo writes of an encounter between an infamous convict, Jean Valjean, and Bienvenu, a humble bishop. When Jean Valjean sought refuge for a night in the bishop’s home, the priest welcomed him with open heart. In spite of the kindness that was shown to him, the convict snuck into the bishop’s room in the black of night, stole a set of silver plates, and slunk out of the house.
Early the next morning, he was caught by the authorities and dragged back to the bishop’s. Walking slowly toward the gendarmes holding Jean Valjean, the old bishop greeted the hardened convict, saying, “I am glad to see you. But! I gave you the candlesticks also…Why did you not take them along with your plates?” (Hugo, Les Miserables, pg. 38) At the bishop’s affirmation that the silver was not stolen, but had been a gift, the gendarmes released Valjean. Overwhelmed by this act of astonishing grace, and encouraged by Bienvenu to “use this silver to become an honest man (pg 39),” from that day forth Valjean turned to God and reformed his life. If Valjean had not been a convict—if sin had not existed—this story of grace that has touched people for hundreds of years, would never have been written. As Romans 5:20 puts it: “but where sin increased, grace abounded all the more.” In the blackness of sin, light shines: bright, beautiful.
Although God is not the author of evil, he foreknew its existence, and preordained what good use he would make of it. As Augustine states: “God would never have created any…whose future wickedness he foreknew, unless he had equally known to what uses in behalf of the good he could turn him, thus embellishing the course of the ages, as it were an exquisite poem set off with antitheses” (City of God, pg 361). For example, the terrorist attack on the Twin Towers in 2001 killed thousands and shook people across the country. In and of itself, it was a wicked tragedy. God, however, used that disaster for much good. Just months after those two buildings crumbled, smoke and flames billowing across the island, my mother went to New York City. Swaddled in a turquoise coat—a Floridian freezing in the New York cold—she passed out “survival kits” and shared the Gospel with anyone who would listen. Because they were so raw from the recent calamity, many people did listen, and reaching for hope, turned to Christ.
Because he had prescience of future adversity, God created people in such a way that the struggle of light and dark is an innate piece of humanity. In a daedal work of embroidery, a skillful embroiderer weaves in dark and light threads, for it is more pleasing to the eye to have a “lively work, upon a sad and solemn ground, than to have a dark and melancholy work, upon a lightsome ground” (Bacon, Of Adversity). This is also true in paintings and photographs, where artists use shadows to highlight the subject of the artwork. Artists’ use of the opposition of light and dark in art is merely a reflection of God’s use of evil and good in the story of life, a story made beautiful by conflict. As Augustine says, “As…oppositions of contraries lend beauty to the language, so the beauty of the course of this world is achieved by the opposition of contraries, arranged…by an eloquence not of words, but of things” (City of God, pg. 362)
Though the opposition of contraries creates a more glorious story overall, each long day is a struggle, and each moment wrought with a multitude of hardships. These tribulations cause God’s people to long for heaven, where “He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore” (Rev. 21:4). A biblical example of a life truly wrought with struggle is the story of Job. In that cosmic argument between God and the devil, everything was stripped from Job. Satan wanted to prove that Job only worshipped the Lord because he had been blessed with great wealth. Since God knew that Job worshipped him from the heart, he gave permission to the devil to torment Job.
First the devil took Job’s property: oxen, donkeys, sheep, and goats. Next he struck down his servants. Then he killed his family. Finally, he attacked Job’s health, causing great boils to rise all over his body. Amongst doubts and pleas to the Lord, Job remained strong in his faith. Despite his (mostly) unwavering trust in the Lord, he longed desperately to be released from struggle. As he sat in dust and ashes, he cried out: “Let the day perish on which I was born!” (Job 3:3). Because of the trials he suffered, Job greatly desired heaven. Of course, this is a dramatic example. For most people, especially in modern Western society, hardship comes in lesser forms. Yet life is still a struggle, and hope is in leaving this world behind and entering into eternal peace in heaven. As Augustine so grittily puts it, “From this hell upon earth there is no escape, save through the grace of the Savior Christ, our God and Lord,” the grace which will take the citizens of the city of God finally Home (Augustine, City of God, 848).
Confutatio
Some may think that since God uses evil to make the story of life more beautiful, it is unnecessary to feed the hungry, care for the orphans, and give to the poor. If struggle makes life beautiful, they may assert, then why attempt to reduce struggle? The answer is that God has clearly called his people to care for the downtrodden. In ancient times, God forbade the Israelites to strip their field completely bare; they were to leave gleanings for the poor (Lev. 19:9-10). It was also forbidden to charge a poor man interest on a loan (Ex. 22:25), or to take a necessity of life from a poor man for collateral (Ex. 22:26-27).
Throughout the Proverbs, God instructs his people to give ear to the poor and downtrodden, to "speak up for those who cannot speak for themselves, for the rights of all who are destitute. Speak up and judge fairly; defend the rights of the poor and needy” (Prov. 31:8-9). God’s compassion for the oppressed, however, is not confined to the Old Testament. When Christ began his ministry on earth, he completely redefined helping the poor. Instead of simply defending their rights, he befriended them. Rather than just give them food, he ate with them. He laughed at their joys, and cried with their sorrow.
In fact, Jesus Christ loved the poor so deeply that he said to his disciples: “For I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me, I was naked and you clothed me, I was sick and you visited me, I was in prison and you came to me…truly, I say to you, as you did it to one of the least of these my brothers, you did it to me” (Matt. 21:35-40). The children of God are called to fight against evil and strive to breathe lives of love, grace, and compassion.
Conclusio
Even when God’s people are living lives of grace and compassion, darkness lurks on the edges of light. Yet the Lord uses this evil to magnify himself and intensify beauty in many different ways. One way is that evil shows how great God is, because rather than just prevent evil, he is able to turn it into good. Another was is that iniquity creates a stark backdrop for grace, for there is no grace without punishment, nor redemption without sin. A third way is that although he did not create evil, God uses it as a poet uses antithesis: for beauty. Lastly, the hardships of this life cause the citizens of the city of God to long for heaven.
But God does not only use sorrow and pain and struggle to magnify the glory of this story of life—he also uses his children, who he has called to fight against the evil. That is the beauty of the story: the struggle between good and evil, righteous and unrighteous, darkness and light. The overarching beauty is that the conflict has already been resolved. Good will triumph over evil, righteousness will defeat iniquity. And the story will continue forever in the light of Jesus Christ’s victory.
In this present time, however, in the struggle of the “already but not yet,” we wait for the revelation of total redemption. While we wait, we must engage in the struggle. God has not saved us to remain timid, passive Christians; he has created us to be warriors in a battle against spiritual darkness. This not a battle fought with a sword, but with hearts, by love. In Ephesians 5, Paul exhorts believers to “walk in love, as Christ loved us…” and to “…walk as children of light.” Let us live by these words. Let us enter into the conflict of the story of life bearing flames. Let us carry light into the surrounding darkness and live as strong members of the city of God, a city of light.
Tuesday, May 11, 2010
Murky Waters
White streaks of sunblock sticky on face, red goggles strapped to eyes, I waded into the lake. Caroline followed just behind me. Lake weeds rose up and brushed across my stomach, tugged at my feet, wrapped around my wrists. I dove under water and saw the green murkiness rise all around me. Hand over head, long strokes, kicking feet. Breath. Repeat.
As I moved farther out in the lake, aiming for a far-off dock, spooky thoughts swirled through my mind, a reflection of the green waters twisting around me. Before getting into the water, I truly was not afraid, But out there, far from shore, I could not get visions of long, sharp teeth sinking into my bare flesh. I tried praying. I tried thinking about other things. Yet always, always lurking at the back of my mind was that picture of teeth, teeth, teeth.
I didn't get eaten. Not even close. I swam the 300 meters to the dock in 8 minutes and 21 seconds, Caroline just behind. For her sake (ok, and a lil bit for mine), we rested a bit then headed back. By this point a boat had entered the lake. Waves rose around me, shoving me toward shore. Fighting against them, I swam hard, often swiveling around to check for Caroline's head bobbing in the water. She was always there, and I made it back in 7 minutes.
Sunday, May 9, 2010
Animal Farm
Chairs circled on the green carpet, mildewed green couch closing us in. On Drew's chair, Bon Qui Qui, our new cockatiel, fluffed her feathers and cocked her tufted head. Zibby and Willanona, the rats, scampered round and round the floor, sometimes tickling toes and making girls squeal. Sweetpea, the mouse, slept in glass aquarium, and Hermione, the cat,--quite awake--prowled outside the screen. Pots of flowers crowded on porch pass-thru, our gift to Mommy for Mother's day. Conversation rose up and down, to the left and in swirls, in that relaxed manner of lazy words on a warm May day. We talked of summer plans and ideas for my graduation party, of going swimming and dreams of redoing the porch.
Now it is time to wrap my new apron round my waist and pull my curls back, to pull dishes from cupboards and snatch out spices. Daddy is in charge of the meat (what a man!), but I shall make the rest: mashed potatoes, lemon-garlic green beans, and a fresh garden salad. What sweet times these are, these days of living with my family before Drew goes to California for the summer, Macy to Hungary for a month, and me to Idaho for college.
Now it is time to wrap my new apron round my waist and pull my curls back, to pull dishes from cupboards and snatch out spices. Daddy is in charge of the meat (what a man!), but I shall make the rest: mashed potatoes, lemon-garlic green beans, and a fresh garden salad. What sweet times these are, these days of living with my family before Drew goes to California for the summer, Macy to Hungary for a month, and me to Idaho for college.
Saturday, May 8, 2010
Ohhh yessss!
So, I'm about to get into my car to drive to the end of the world (or...Kissimmee), and you know what's really great? I HAVE AC!
Friday, May 7, 2010
Thursday, May 6, 2010
The Return of the....Air Conditioning!
I always forget how hot summer is. How humid summer is. Being without A/C in my car is a really good reminder. A couple weeks ago I followed a "free A/C check-up" sign to Mobile, and had Mirabelle looked at. The man who examined her told me it would cost at least $200 dollars to fix her. I decided I could last till August. Then it got hotter, and hotter, and then the temperature rose over 90 degrees, and all the kids I cart around were crying in the back seat as sweat dripped down their faces and wind roared in their ears. Maybe that sounds rather melodramatic, but it's true. Anyway, I decided the air had to be fixed. So, hoping for a slightly better deal, I (along with some help from my parents :), took my car to Sean, the man who fixed the A/C last time.
When he called to let me know the car was done, I got right to the point:
"How much did it cost?"
"Well," he answered slowly, "it was less than a million dollars."
"Ok, that's good," I laughed. "How much was it?"
"Well...it was kinda hidden in there, and I had to work at it for a while...so I charged you $50 for labor."
"How much did the part cost?"
"Nothing--it was just a little hose." (At least, I think that's what he called it.)
"You mean, it's only going to cost me $50? Period?" I couldn't believe my ears!
"Plus tax, which makes it about $53."
"Wow! Then why did the men at Mobile tell me it was going to be at least $200?"
"Because you're a female walking into an auto shop."
Thank the Lord for honest mechanics like Sean--even if he did tease me a little. :)
When he called to let me know the car was done, I got right to the point:
"How much did it cost?"
"Well," he answered slowly, "it was less than a million dollars."
"Ok, that's good," I laughed. "How much was it?"
"Well...it was kinda hidden in there, and I had to work at it for a while...so I charged you $50 for labor."
"How much did the part cost?"
"Nothing--it was just a little hose." (At least, I think that's what he called it.)
"You mean, it's only going to cost me $50? Period?" I couldn't believe my ears!
"Plus tax, which makes it about $53."
"Wow! Then why did the men at Mobile tell me it was going to be at least $200?"
"Because you're a female walking into an auto shop."
Thank the Lord for honest mechanics like Sean--even if he did tease me a little. :)
Tuesday, April 20, 2010
Monday, April 19, 2010
Freestyle
More like, no style.
I can't swim freestyle. That's all there is to it. My body fights me, twisting and turning in anything but coordination. How will I swim a third of a mile (and then bike and run) in this unflowing rhythm?
Prayer. Practice. Perseverance. And probably lots of help from those who can swim.
I can't swim freestyle. That's all there is to it. My body fights me, twisting and turning in anything but coordination. How will I swim a third of a mile (and then bike and run) in this unflowing rhythm?
Prayer. Practice. Perseverance. And probably lots of help from those who can swim.
Sunday, April 18, 2010
Pineapple Man
While I was out walking baby Hunter the other day, Jessie texted me to say that she was going to do a sprint triathlon this summer. For whatever reason, my first thought was: I'll do it, too! I printed up an eleven week training schedule, convinced myself I could complete it in seven, and went running. And so it is that I, the unathletic, uncoordinated asthmatic am training for a sprint triathlon (.3 miles swimming, 15 miles biking, 3.5 miles running)!
Monday, April 12, 2010
This is Grace.
Avoirdupois clung to Rebecca's heart, but there was no weight in her womb. When Isaac cried out to the Lord, God heard the man's tears and healed the woman's barrenness. Twins formed within her, and before they were yet born, struggled inside her. Troubled by this pother, Rebecca sought an explanation from God. "Two nations are in thy womb," answer the Lord, "and two manner of people shall be separated from thy bowels" (Gen. 25:3). Before they had breathed the breath of this world, before they had entered in blood and lived in sin or righteousness, Jacob was loved by God, and Esau hated. This, this is grace. Both deserved death, because both had inherited condemnation from the sin of Adam. But God--in his inexplicable sovereignty--chose the younger to rule the elder, the weaker to conquer the strong.
(A summary of the 35th chapter of the 16th book of The City of God.)
Thursday, April 8, 2010
A Week In the Life
(March 29th through April 5th)
Monday:
Since I was on spring break from Great Books II, and Kathleen was on spring break from real school, she and I got to hang out, shop, cook, and make apple pie (which was delicious despite the burnt topping and Kathleen's burnt hand :). Then we led these wonderful girls in Bible study.
Tuesday:
As usual, I picked the C girls up from school, and brought them back to their house.
Soon as we get home each day, Anna Kate pulls on this leotard and slips into ballet shoes. That girl has got per-son-al-i-tee!
This Tuesday we loaded back into the car and drove to my house after lunch and a very unsuccessful "nap." Why am I always so much sleepier than they are?
Ella Grace and Anna absolutely love our box of Polly Pockets.
Ella Grace also loves to ride on the "tree swing."
Surprisingly enough, both girls think playing with Willa and Zibby is just about the best thing since Barbies.
The ratties don't mind the attention. ;)
While they were entertained by the rodents (they like the mouse and gerbils, too), I prepared dough for soft pretzels. When it was ready, Tori help us roll it out and shape it into "pretzels". We might need to work on form...
Before we'd been working long, Stefanie showed up and joined the party.
Later, when we'd cleaned up the baking and started making birthday cards for Ella and Anna's Grammie, Christopher showed up. He made some sort of sports picture. It was great. Good job, Chris; I'm so proud to have your picture on the bulletin board. =P
Hunter! When I got to his house early that morning, he reached his arms out for me. First time he's ever done that. I was quite flattered. :)
How can you not smile perpetually when hanging out with such a cutie?
As soon as Aimee (Hunter's mommy) got home, I left to pick Noelle up from school. We ran a few errands, picked out this lovely orchid, and went to visit Mrs. Knight at Westminster Towers. She was delighted to see us, and thrilled about the orchids (her favorite flower). Although she's deteriorated since I first began spending time with her, she's as feisty as ever!
Baby Hunt again. I think about him and start giggling. Just look at those cheeks!
BAhaha. His expression is classic.
After picking Noelle up from school, I went grocery shopping for Mrs. G. The dinner menu was up to me, so I decided to make fajitas. This is the raw chicken....ew.
Add raw veggies and voila....yum! (Of course, it still needed cooking and seasoning)
While dinner was cooking, I put together an Easter basket for Noelle's grandpa. She "helped." ;)
Recently Mrs. G gave Noelle face paint, and we have spent many a pleasant hour decorating her face. She did this cat face almost all by herself!
Fierce!
That evening I went to a benefit concert at Circle, then rode with Jess and Mrs. M to pick up Tyler. So glad he's home (if only for a while)!!
Dieudonne and Maria joined us for a feast.
Along with Chris and Ai.
Aren't my parents cute?
I love how Tori and Jocelyn's shadows are holding hands.
Despite the sand and heat and things I don't like about the beach, it was a really great afternoon. But I didn't escape without a sunburn. In fact, I just discovered that said burn is now blistered. Oh dear.
So there you have it, a week in the life of Tali. Exciting, eh?
Monday:
Since I was on spring break from Great Books II, and Kathleen was on spring break from real school, she and I got to hang out, shop, cook, and make apple pie (which was delicious despite the burnt topping and Kathleen's burnt hand :). Then we led these wonderful girls in Bible study.
Tuesday:As usual, I picked the C girls up from school, and brought them back to their house.
Soon as we get home each day, Anna Kate pulls on this leotard and slips into ballet shoes. That girl has got per-son-al-i-tee!
This Tuesday we loaded back into the car and drove to my house after lunch and a very unsuccessful "nap." Why am I always so much sleepier than they are?
Ella Grace and Anna absolutely love our box of Polly Pockets.
Ella Grace also loves to ride on the "tree swing."
Surprisingly enough, both girls think playing with Willa and Zibby is just about the best thing since Barbies. 
The ratties don't mind the attention. ;)
While they were entertained by the rodents (they like the mouse and gerbils, too), I prepared dough for soft pretzels. When it was ready, Tori help us roll it out and shape it into "pretzels". We might need to work on form...
Before we'd been working long, Stefanie showed up and joined the party.
Later, when we'd cleaned up the baking and started making birthday cards for Ella and Anna's Grammie, Christopher showed up. He made some sort of sports picture. It was great. Good job, Chris; I'm so proud to have your picture on the bulletin board. =PWednesday:
Hunter! When I got to his house early that morning, he reached his arms out for me. First time he's ever done that. I was quite flattered. :)
How can you not smile perpetually when hanging out with such a cutie?
As soon as Aimee (Hunter's mommy) got home, I left to pick Noelle up from school. We ran a few errands, picked out this lovely orchid, and went to visit Mrs. Knight at Westminster Towers. She was delighted to see us, and thrilled about the orchids (her favorite flower). Although she's deteriorated since I first began spending time with her, she's as feisty as ever!Thursday:
Normally I watch the Cs on Thursdays, but they had relatives in town so I had the day off.
Friday:
Normally I watch the Cs on Thursdays, but they had relatives in town so I had the day off.
Friday:
Baby Hunt again. I think about him and start giggling. Just look at those cheeks!
BAhaha. His expression is classic.
After picking Noelle up from school, I went grocery shopping for Mrs. G. The dinner menu was up to me, so I decided to make fajitas. This is the raw chicken....ew.
Add raw veggies and voila....yum! (Of course, it still needed cooking and seasoning)
While dinner was cooking, I put together an Easter basket for Noelle's grandpa. She "helped." ;)
Recently Mrs. G gave Noelle face paint, and we have spent many a pleasant hour decorating her face. She did this cat face almost all by herself!
Fierce!
That evening I went to a benefit concert at Circle, then rode with Jess and Mrs. M to pick up Tyler. So glad he's home (if only for a while)!!Saturday:
I cleaned house and helped get ready for Easter dinner. In the evening I babysat Jonathan and Anna M.
Sunday:
Easter!
I cleaned house and helped get ready for Easter dinner. In the evening I babysat Jonathan and Anna M.
Sunday:
Easter!
Dieudonne and Maria joined us for a feast.
Along with Chris and Ai.
Aren't my parents cute?Later that evening, David and Shane came over to hang out. After discussing what we should do, we eventually decided (and convinced my parents) that a beach trip was definitely in order. Of course Haylee came along, too--it's pretty much impossible to have a crazy, spontaneous beach night without Haylee! We parked at her aunt's house, David dropped his phone in the water, we climbed out not-very-far on the jetty, and were back by 1:00am (promise, Daddy!). I'm so glad my friends are always prepared to be "wild and wacky." ;)
Monday:
Being the studious student I am, I went to class Monday morning amongst the protestations of my beach-headed sisters and mom. While sitting in class, however, I couldn't get the feel of a long, windy drive and a run on the beach out of my mind. So I sun-blocked up and headed for New Smyrna soon as class let out.
Being the studious student I am, I went to class Monday morning amongst the protestations of my beach-headed sisters and mom. While sitting in class, however, I couldn't get the feel of a long, windy drive and a run on the beach out of my mind. So I sun-blocked up and headed for New Smyrna soon as class let out.
I love how Tori and Jocelyn's shadows are holding hands.So there you have it, a week in the life of Tali. Exciting, eh?
Thursday, March 25, 2010
Billy Joel
Watch this.
DO IT!
You won't be disappointed.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a_XgQhMPeEQ&feature=player_embedded
DO IT!
You won't be disappointed.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a_XgQhMPeEQ&feature=player_embedded
Wednesday, March 24, 2010
All in a Day
Finger paint.
Sidewalk chalk.
Stories.
Soccer.
Scooters.
Tag.
Scraped hands
And nose,
Head,
Knees.
Barbie band-aids.
Princess band-aids.
Story time again.
Sidewalk chalk.
Stories.
Soccer.
Scooters.
Tag.
Scraped hands
And nose,
Head,
Knees.
Barbie band-aids.
Princess band-aids.
Story time again.
Tuesday, March 23, 2010
Cup of Soul
Green tea with lemon grass and spearmint. What a delightful way to awaken to the world! The Tazo tea box encouraged me to contemplate "eternal mysteries" while drinking my tea. So what am I doing here? Let me take myself away and read Augustine, who is so very dedicated to contemplating divine mysteries.
Monday, March 15, 2010
Beautiful Antithesis
In my Great Books II class, we are studying Augustine's City of God. Although--I must confess--I sometimes find my thoughts wandering and my eyelids drooping while reading his lengthy [and wordy] work, there are some passages that make me clap hand to heart and read with breathless excitement."God would never have created any, I do not say angel, but even man, whose future wickedness He foreknew, unless He had equally known to what uses in behalf of the good He could turn him, thus embellishing the course of the ages, as it were an exquisite poem set off with antitheses...so the beauty of the course of this world is achieved by the opposition of contraries, arranged, as it were, by an eloquence not of words, but of things" (Augustine, City of God, page 361-2).
Struggle haunts every movement of humanity. Ever since the curse was spoken, it hangs darkly upon us, hardening the earth, injecting pain into childbirth. Yet this struggle--this fight of mankind--richly glorifies the power and dignity of the Lord. And it reminds that He is infinitely sovereign. Sovereign, and very much alive.
This world is not a clock that was set ticking, a clock that will eventually wind down and be forgotten. We are knit to our creator, and he is continuously weaving the tapestry. He has not become idle; he has not stopped creating. There are 353,015 births every day. 14, 709 babies are born each hour. 245 babies are born every minute of every day.* God is constantly creating, molding forming.
Not only is he creating, he's using. God is immanent: closely involved in our lives. All of the bad things that happen, he utilizes for his good purposes. Although we cannot understand it, everything is working for the good of those who love him. This pain is only the amplifier to eventual triumph.
It's a simple, painful, beautiful story, this story of life. And it's rendered all the lovelier by the pain that is so hideous in and of itself.
"For as the beauty of a picture is increased by well-managed shadows, so, to the eye that has skill to discern it, the universe is beautified even by sinners, though, considered by themselves, their deformity is a blemish" (Augstine, City of God, page 367).
Let us not miss the sunlight for the shadows.
*Worldwide Missions
Friday, March 12, 2010
No. More.
I would just like to announce--to scream it from the rafters--that I am VERY tired of being sick.
This morning I was awakened by 496 builders hammering in my head. I chased them away with two little pills, but they have since returned.
Those weren't the only pills I swallowed, either. There were seven in all: vitamins, minerals, antibiotics, probiotics, decongestants.
Of course, no one wants to hear me complain about being sick. But somehow complaining helps, so I send these bitter words out into cyberspace, my screams echoing off into the wilderness of the world wide web:
"I. DON'T. WANT. TO. BE. SICK. ANYMORE!"
Will I ever exercise again? Will I ever have energy again? Will I ever stop blowing my nose? If you have an answer, dear internet, please share, please do.
This morning I was awakened by 496 builders hammering in my head. I chased them away with two little pills, but they have since returned.
Those weren't the only pills I swallowed, either. There were seven in all: vitamins, minerals, antibiotics, probiotics, decongestants.
Of course, no one wants to hear me complain about being sick. But somehow complaining helps, so I send these bitter words out into cyberspace, my screams echoing off into the wilderness of the world wide web:
"I. DON'T. WANT. TO. BE. SICK. ANYMORE!"
Will I ever exercise again? Will I ever have energy again? Will I ever stop blowing my nose? If you have an answer, dear internet, please share, please do.
Tuesday, March 9, 2010
Dinner on the Drive
Freshly swept drivewaySmoke swirling, dipping, diving
Flowers stuck in cup
Benches, plates and forks
Sunlight, glinting on glass jars
Pineapple, tomatoes, chicken
Skewer sticks in honey jar
Sticky fingers, smacking tongues
Laughing faces, lowering sun
Dinner on the drive
With family, friends, and fun
Flowers stuck in cup
Benches, plates and forks
Sunlight, glinting on glass jars
Pineapple, tomatoes, chicken
Skewer sticks in honey jar
Sticky fingers, smacking tongues
Laughing faces, lowering sun
Dinner on the drive
With family, friends, and fun
Monday, March 8, 2010
A Prayer
Father, convict me of my sin, that I might know your grace. Show me the lengths of my damnation, that I might see the depths of your salvation. Bring me to thee "renouncing, condemning, loathing myself, but hoping in the grace that flows even to the chief of sinners" (Puritan prayer). It is not false humility, or a wallowing self-abasement that I seek, but the destruction of my pride. Show me how wicked I am, and how good, you.
Remind me daily of these words: "What Our Lord wants us to present Him is not goodness, not honesty, nor endeavor, but real, solid sin; that is all He can take from us. And what does He give us in return? Real, solid righteousness. But we must relinquish all pretense of being anything, all claim of being worthy of God's consideration" (Oswald Chambers).
Take my pretense, Lord. Take my trying. Take me to the foot of the Cross in tears, and raise me in your arms--triumphant, redeemed.
Remind me daily of these words: "What Our Lord wants us to present Him is not goodness, not honesty, nor endeavor, but real, solid sin; that is all He can take from us. And what does He give us in return? Real, solid righteousness. But we must relinquish all pretense of being anything, all claim of being worthy of God's consideration" (Oswald Chambers).
Take my pretense, Lord. Take my trying. Take me to the foot of the Cross in tears, and raise me in your arms--triumphant, redeemed.
Saturday, March 6, 2010
The Bike Ride
A few days ago, I decided I wanted to bike to the Farmers' Market on Park Ave. But I needed a friend. I called Gabriela.
[Relatively] early this morning, we got up and prepared for the long ride. When we started out, I was bundled warmly. Before long, however, I shed my gloves and sweater and basked in the warmth of Saturday.
Gabriela rode our bike; I rode Julia's. We made quite a pair, both bikes clunking and clicking along. Despite the not-so-smooth-or-quiet bicycles, we made good time, and were at the Farmers' Market by 10:00am.
The bright sun and clear sky had called crowds of people to the market. Milling about the stalls, they ate samples and bought vegetables and brushed shoulders. We joined them, and a nice man gave me a plum--for free! After we'd had our fill of samples and sight-seeing, we bought bagels from the bakery inside and ate them leaning against a fencepost, the sun in our eyes. Oh, delight! That is a meal I will be thinking of for a long, long time.
By the time we returned home, it was time for Gabriela to meet her mom. After dropping her off, I picked up Macy and Mollie and went to Jiffy Lube for an oil change. Since Bright Light Books is now in the same plaza as Jiffy Lube, the girls wandered over there while I waited for my car. As usual, I had a lovely time at the auto shop.
A cute young man with bright eyes took my car and keys from me, and another sweet young man held the door for me to walk into the shop. While I sat in the waiting room, a boy with a red fro, earrings, and lots of tattoos came in, looked around awkwardly, and asked if anyone was in the bathroom. When I told him I didn't think so, he mumbled, "Well, I guess I'll go then," and disappeared. (Hehe) A moment later, I was called outside by a debonair black man, who explained everything they were going to do to my car.
Apparently I was way past due for an oil change, and he spent a while explaining the damage I was causing Mirabelle. [oops] Then he led me back inside, and while we waited for the cute young man with bright eyes to finish doing whatever he was doing, Darin (the debonair black man) asked me about my life. In the course of our conversation, I learned that he was a Christian, then listened with tears in my eyes as he told me his tragic "life story". It was a special conversation, one of those bright moments that bring total strangers together for a breath.
By the time his story was over, my car was all finished. As I paid, he told me that he would always pray for me; that meeting me had made his day. I don't know why I always dread taking my car in; every time I've been at the garage with Mirabelle, it's been a wonderful time!
Thank the Lord for Saturdays. :)
[Relatively] early this morning, we got up and prepared for the long ride. When we started out, I was bundled warmly. Before long, however, I shed my gloves and sweater and basked in the warmth of Saturday.
Gabriela rode our bike; I rode Julia's. We made quite a pair, both bikes clunking and clicking along. Despite the not-so-smooth-or-quiet bicycles, we made good time, and were at the Farmers' Market by 10:00am.
The bright sun and clear sky had called crowds of people to the market. Milling about the stalls, they ate samples and bought vegetables and brushed shoulders. We joined them, and a nice man gave me a plum--for free! After we'd had our fill of samples and sight-seeing, we bought bagels from the bakery inside and ate them leaning against a fencepost, the sun in our eyes. Oh, delight! That is a meal I will be thinking of for a long, long time.By the time we returned home, it was time for Gabriela to meet her mom. After dropping her off, I picked up Macy and Mollie and went to Jiffy Lube for an oil change. Since Bright Light Books is now in the same plaza as Jiffy Lube, the girls wandered over there while I waited for my car. As usual, I had a lovely time at the auto shop.
A cute young man with bright eyes took my car and keys from me, and another sweet young man held the door for me to walk into the shop. While I sat in the waiting room, a boy with a red fro, earrings, and lots of tattoos came in, looked around awkwardly, and asked if anyone was in the bathroom. When I told him I didn't think so, he mumbled, "Well, I guess I'll go then," and disappeared. (Hehe) A moment later, I was called outside by a debonair black man, who explained everything they were going to do to my car.
Apparently I was way past due for an oil change, and he spent a while explaining the damage I was causing Mirabelle. [oops] Then he led me back inside, and while we waited for the cute young man with bright eyes to finish doing whatever he was doing, Darin (the debonair black man) asked me about my life. In the course of our conversation, I learned that he was a Christian, then listened with tears in my eyes as he told me his tragic "life story". It was a special conversation, one of those bright moments that bring total strangers together for a breath.
By the time his story was over, my car was all finished. As I paid, he told me that he would always pray for me; that meeting me had made his day. I don't know why I always dread taking my car in; every time I've been at the garage with Mirabelle, it's been a wonderful time!
Thank the Lord for Saturdays. :)
Monday, March 1, 2010
What's Cooking?
It's been a while since I've blogged about food, so I thought I'd share about the dinner I cooked tonight.
After a Harville's/Wal-mart outing, I was set with all the ingredients I needed. A few days ago this dish just popped into my head; this evening was the time to see if it was creatable. As soon as I got home from the store, I started slicing and smashing and shaking and sprinkling.
Honestly, it was very simple. This is the recipe I created. Feel free to recreate it. :)
Ingredients:
5 skinless, boneless chicken breast halves
1/2 red onion, thinly slice
1 large tomato, thinly sliced
1 lemon, thinly sliced
3 garlic cloves, thinly sliced
kosher salt
black pepper
Directions:
Preheat oven to 375 degrees F. Place chicken in greased 9 x 13 pan. Aesthetically place onion, tomato, lemon, and garlic slices on top of chicken. Sprinkle with kosher salt and black pepper, to taste (about 1/2 tsp salt, 1/4 tsp pepper). Bake 30 minutes, or until chicken is done (no longer pink when cut open).
While the chicken was cooking, I made some hummus.
Ingredients:
1 can garbanzo beans/chickpeas, drained and rinsed
1/3 cup tahini (ground sesame seeds)
1/4 olive oil
3 cloves garlic, smashed
2 T lemon juice
Red bell peppers in a jar, to taste (along with some of the juice)
Water, if needed (don't add it unless you really can't get the beans to mix!)
Directions:
Dump all the ingredients in the blender and turn it on. You will have to stop, stir, and start again quite a few times before it will mix completely. Don't get frustrated--it will eventually turn into a lovely, smooth paste. Served with pita, this dip is absolutely scrumptious!
Next, I tossed green beans with lemon juice, garlic slices, a little bit of olive oil, salt (kosher, of course), and pepper, and roasted them in the oven at 450 degrees for 10 minutes. Yum!
Even Drew was generous in his appreciation of the meal. Success!
After a Harville's/Wal-mart outing, I was set with all the ingredients I needed. A few days ago this dish just popped into my head; this evening was the time to see if it was creatable. As soon as I got home from the store, I started slicing and smashing and shaking and sprinkling.
Honestly, it was very simple. This is the recipe I created. Feel free to recreate it. :)
Ingredients:5 skinless, boneless chicken breast halves
1/2 red onion, thinly slice
1 large tomato, thinly sliced
1 lemon, thinly sliced
3 garlic cloves, thinly sliced
kosher salt
black pepper
Directions:
Preheat oven to 375 degrees F. Place chicken in greased 9 x 13 pan. Aesthetically place onion, tomato, lemon, and garlic slices on top of chicken. Sprinkle with kosher salt and black pepper, to taste (about 1/2 tsp salt, 1/4 tsp pepper). Bake 30 minutes, or until chicken is done (no longer pink when cut open).
While the chicken was cooking, I made some hummus.
Ingredients:1 can garbanzo beans/chickpeas, drained and rinsed
1/3 cup tahini (ground sesame seeds)
1/4 olive oil
3 cloves garlic, smashed
2 T lemon juice
Red bell peppers in a jar, to taste (along with some of the juice)
Water, if needed (don't add it unless you really can't get the beans to mix!)
Directions:
Dump all the ingredients in the blender and turn it on. You will have to stop, stir, and start again quite a few times before it will mix completely. Don't get frustrated--it will eventually turn into a lovely, smooth paste. Served with pita, this dip is absolutely scrumptious!
Next, I tossed green beans with lemon juice, garlic slices, a little bit of olive oil, salt (kosher, of course), and pepper, and roasted them in the oven at 450 degrees for 10 minutes. Yum!
Even Drew was generous in his appreciation of the meal. Success!
Thursday, February 25, 2010
The Bird.
I am a bird. I try to fly alone, to sail throught the skies by myself. But my wings are broken. Sagging against the cold earth, I realize that flyinbg alone has only ever been a delusion.
For months now, I have felt numb, stagnant. When Engedi (aka: church camp) came onto the calendar, I started praying that it would be a refreshing time of spiritual revival. Although my prayer wasn't answered exactly as I wanted, I did come away from this past Engedi weekend awakened, face to face with myself as that broken-winged bird.
Ever since I was a kid, I've struggled with perfectionism. I remember freaking out when my sibligns sat on my bed and wrinkled the perfectly smoothed covers. I remember making my mom finish drawing my pictures so they would look right. I remember crying when plays I "directed" turned into catastrophes.
"You're panties are in a wad," my family has always sweetly told me. But I'm afriad it's more than that; I'm trying to be my own savior. And I keep failing.
Zach Van Dyke, the speaker at Engedi, said that obedience can distance us from God. As crazy as that sounds, look at the Pharisees--they upheld the law "perfectly," but when crowds gathered to hear Jesus speak, they stood on the outskirts. Sitting at the feet of Christ were the tax collectors, the sick, the children, the prostitutes.
For months now, I have felt numb, stagnant. When Engedi (aka: church camp) came onto the calendar, I started praying that it would be a refreshing time of spiritual revival. Although my prayer wasn't answered exactly as I wanted, I did come away from this past Engedi weekend awakened, face to face with myself as that broken-winged bird.Ever since I was a kid, I've struggled with perfectionism. I remember freaking out when my sibligns sat on my bed and wrinkled the perfectly smoothed covers. I remember making my mom finish drawing my pictures so they would look right. I remember crying when plays I "directed" turned into catastrophes.
"You're panties are in a wad," my family has always sweetly told me. But I'm afriad it's more than that; I'm trying to be my own savior. And I keep failing.
Zach Van Dyke, the speaker at Engedi, said that obedience can distance us from God. As crazy as that sounds, look at the Pharisees--they upheld the law "perfectly," but when crowds gathered to hear Jesus speak, they stood on the outskirts. Sitting at the feet of Christ were the tax collectors, the sick, the children, the prostitutes.
During another session, Zach told the story of the adulterous woman the Pharisees threw at Jesus. After Christ challenged them by saying, "Let he who has never sinned be the first to throw a stone," they dropped their rocks and slinked away. They left to write more lists and obey more laws, to promise themselves they'd never do that again, that they'd be better, they'd be good. Had they remained with Jesus, they would have heard him tell the shamed woman he did not condemn her. With shocked stares, they would have watched Jesus stretch out his hand and help her up. They would have seen him love her, and they would have known he loved her not because she had done anything worthy, but because he was about to pay for her sins with his blood.
I am a Pharisee, an adulterous woman; I am sick and I am prideful: a sinner. I am a bird with broken wings. No matter how hard I try to save myself--to mend my wings--I keep falling back to the ground. Slowly, very slowly, I am learning to be still, to simply rest at the foot of the Cross and let Christ be my salvation. It is only on the wings of grace that I will ever fly.
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