You Can't See It, But I'm Wearing Black

Can I just take a moment and mourn the loss of my favorite thrift store?

*mourning*

Okay, let me explain. For as long as I can remember, there has been a thrift store in a nearby shopping center, conveniently located near our resident W-mart and a couple other stores I find myself frequenting often. This was a perfect setting, because I would often find myself in that area, and it was most convenient to just drop in. This is, of course, the best way to do thrifting. You can go to a thrift store at any time or any day and it will be hit or miss. But if you can visit your favorite store often, you learn to spot quickly. You know what is new, what has been there a while, and exactly how the layout of the store is. You can zip up and down the racks in a matter of minutes, and you are much more likely to find great deals because you are there so often.

I had it all worked into my schedule, and most Tuesday evenings after visitation would find me visiting this nearby, conveniently-located thrift store right before they closed. Tuesdays happened to be their biggest 'restocking' day, 30 minutes before closing happened to be their least-busiest time, and with my shop-and-save card, I got an extra-special Tuesday discount. For awhile, they were drawing the discount out of a big bowl, and for almost 8 Tuesdays straight, I drew 30% or more each week. When it's cheap to begin with, it can only get better from there. :)

But alas, someone somewhere decided that thrift store should be moved...clear on the other side of town to an area where I never go. I've been there a couple times, just out of loyalty to my particular thrift store, but it's not the same. The location is all wrong, the store is set up all wrong, and it is just too far of a drive to 'pop over.' I fear my days of good thrifting may be over. There are a couple small thrift shops a few blocks from my house, but they are tiny, privately-owned things and just don't receive the mass of donations that the larger stores do.

*I'm still mourning.*

In studying about the Paulicians in the 7th through 9th centuries, I noticed a common theme. There is not a lot of information about this group of people, and much of what we do know was written and propagated by their enemies. But I did notice this common thing about some of the leaders.

Constantine was previously part of the Manichaeism sect and somewhere around the year of 655, sheltered a Christian deacon who was fleeing persecution. When the deacon left, he gave Constantine a present of the four gospels and the epistles of Paul. This was quite a costly gift, so there is no doubt that the deacon and Constantine had conversations about the subject. After reading these manuscripts for himself, Constantine threw away his entire Manichaen library, and became a teacher of the doctrines of Christ. From his attention to the epistles of Paul and their instructions, he and his followers soon gained the name of Paulicians.

Simeon was the officer sent by the emperor to dispose of Constantine around 685. He used traitorous members within Constantine's own congregation to kill Constantine as well as many of the brethren. However, he was so struck with the Paulicians readiness to die for their religion and the pleading reason they gave as he examined them, that he decided to study out their arguments, and became a believer himself, renouncing all his honors.

And then there is Sergius, who began preaching around 810. As a young man, he was educated and exceeding intelligent, but quite ignorant of religion. One day he came into the acquaintance of a woman who challenged him about reading the Bible for himself. He argued with her that it was not for him to read - only the priests were to read the Word of God. She urged him not to listen to the gross tyranny of the priests, but rather to read for himself. This he did and was converted.

Did you see the common theme? In each of these cases, it came down to the person reading for themselves the Word of God, and this was spurred on by an acquaintance who challenged what they had believed about religion up to that point. So many people just blithely accept what they are told and never take the time to study it out for themselves. I wonder how many people today would change their minds, if only they were urged to read it for themselves?

God works in mysterious ways...

...Who can tell where this journey will end?

From January 10, 2010:

Tonight is the last night in this house. I stand by the gate, breathing in the cyad-scented air heavy with the thought of rain. Behind me I hear laughs and talk, evidence of brothers who love deeply, even when the miles between force silence. I wouldn’t trade this moment for anything... yet still my mind flits to home – that one place I’ve consistently called home since my second year of life. I imagine myself there – walking in the dark, wrapped in the night breeze, waiting for the family to come home.

Tonight is the last night in this room. I lay here on my borrowed bed, quietly clicking my keyboard, while a little darling sleeps next to me. Her rosebud lips parted ever so slightly, hair pushed back from her forehead – perfectly content and secure. I will miss her little talks and her silly mannerisms. By leaving her and the two little guys in the next room, I go back to others who I now miss. It’s all very confusing and heart-wrenching – always missing and loving and wanting to be somewhere else while not wanting to leave where you are.

Tomorrow we finish the packing. We load up the van, squeezing little people between us and bags under all the seats. Then we roll our way to the airport, with stops of pleasure along the way, but always with the knowledge that this is the final trip... the last leg. We are headed to the airport and once there, who knows when we will be back.

This country, this continent, has taken root in my heart. It is more than just the family, more than just the baby arms around my neck. It is the call of the animals in the night, the stillness of the dry season, the barren land with stark contrast of lush growth, the people with their guarded eyes and deep laughter. It’s made a hole in my heart, burrowing deep and sending its spider roots through every part of my life. Everything is about Africa. I can’t help but speak of it, think of it... who can’t understand the hold it has?

So much is undecided. We are coming back, but something inside almost holds me back from making plans. Does God have other plans for me? Will I be back someday? Will I ever be in my beloved Africa again?

---------------------

And here on March the 10th, a mere 3 months later, I am nothing if not more confused about what the next step is. But this I do know - God is working and if I just hold on, I'm in for the ride of my life. :) 

There are changes afoot, folks... pleasant, breath-taking, life-altering changes.

How do I get myself in these things?

I've never had such trouble writing anything in my life.

The only thing that stands between me and my Bachelor's is my thesis. I've done the research, written my outline and course objectives, even breaking everything down into 6 sections with specific goals, splitting each section into three 5-page segments and writing some skeleton tests. But have I been able to actually write the material? No.

Last week, I finally churned out the first of the six sections. (I had a meeting and had to have something to prove I was actually working! :) What I ended up with was pretty good, but also written on the level of a senior in high school, when I'm supposed to be writing for 7th graders.

(As a side note, I was involved in a little skit at a teen girl's activity on Saturday. I was playing the part of a self-centered author who realizes that her book is an absolute failure and full of bad advice. Ironically, as I was 'in character', banging my head against the table and saying, "Stupid, stupid idea"...I was actually thinking about that first of six sections that I wrote the day before. Ha!)

So this past week has helped me take a step back and reassess some things. How do you write a history course for 7th graders? In particular, how do you take something like Baptist History, with all its controversy and deeper subjects, and present it in a way that will be interesting and understandable to a 7th grader? There's a lot of terms, a lot of doctrinal issues, and a lot of sketchy information. It's not impossible, but I think I've been coming at it completely wrong.

I'm determined to finish this thing. I've been thinking about it for so long...it's time to get it over with!!!

Living upon the earth, citizens of Heaven

Up to my ears in dusty books, and this passage has quite caught my attention. I keep coming back to reread it.

“The Christians are not distinguished from other men by country, by language, nor by civil institutions. For they neither dwell in cities by themselves, nor use a peculiar tongue, nor lead a singular mode of life. They dwell in the Grecian or barbarian cities, as the case may be; they follow the usages of the country in dress, food, and the other affairs of life. Yet they present a wonderful and confessedly paradoxical conduct. They dwell in their own native lands, but as strangers. They take part in all things, as citizens; and they suffer all things, as foreigners. Every foreign country is a fatherland to them, and every native land is foreign. They marry, like all others; they have children; but they do not cast away their offsprings. They have the table in common, but not wives. They are in the flesh, but do not live after the flesh. They live upon the earth, but are citizens of heaven. They obey the existing laws, and excel the laws by their lives. They love all, and are persecuted by all. They are unknown, and yet they are condemned. They are killed and made alive. They are poor and make many rich. They lack all things, and in all things abound. They are reproached, and glory in their reproaches. They are calumniated, and are justified. They are cursed, and they bless. They receive scorn, and they give honor. They do good, and are punished as evil-doers. When punished, they rejoice, as being made alive. By the Jews they are attacked as aliens, and by the Greek persecuted; and the cause of the enmity their enemies cannot tell.

“In short, what the soul is to the body, the Christians are in the world. The soul is diffused through all the members of the body, and the Christians are spread through the cities of the world. The soul dwells in the body, but it is not of the body; so the Christians dwell in the world, but are not of the world. The soul, invisible, keeps watch in the visible body; so also the Christians are seen to live in the world, for their piety is invisible. The flesh hates and wars against the soul; suffering no wrong from it, but because it resists fleshly pleasures; and the world hates the Christians with no reason, but they resist its pleasures. The soul loves the flesh and members, by which it is hated; so the Christians love their haters. The soul is enclosed in the body, but holds the body together; so the Christians are detained in the world as in a prison; but they contain the world. Immortal, the soul dwells in the mortal body; so the Christians dwell in the corruptible, but look for incorruptible in heaven. The soul is the better for restriction in food and drink; and the Christians increase, though daily punished. This lot God has assigned to the Christians in the world; and it cannot be taken away from them.” 

(Epistola ad Diognetum, written early second century, quote taken from a copy published in 1852.) 

Fascinated by a Fish

Somewhere in the Sea of Galilee there lived a fish, and somewhere on the bottom of the sea he found a coin. He scooped it up in his mouth and swam with all his might to a place where there was a hook. And with his mouth barely open - full of the coin, you know - he bit down on the hook and was pulled up by Peter. 

Have you ever thought about that fish? What did he think about the Master's command to put that coin in his mouth? How long did he swim around until Peter came around with a hook? 

Even the fish obey Him... and thus the need was met. More importantly, a lesson was taught - to Peter that day and to me today. 

Still enjoying my roses...

Especially split up into three small beautiful bouquets, each in a different room.

I can't decide which one I like the best. Yellow roses just seem to fit so well in blue vases. The other container is a lidless sugar bowl from Burma, so it almost wins out in its uniqueness and special memories. Ahh...but I just keep coming back to that blue glass vase, sitting so demurely on my bathroom sink.

What do you think?

Frustrating Friday

I say I work well under pressure, but the truth is that when too much pressure comes, I feel claustrophobic and want to thrash my way out of it. When projects mount up around my head, I feel like I don't have enough brain power to comprehend them all. If I can't spend enough time thinking through the things I'm doing, I feel like I am doing a mediocre job, and I'd rather do no job at all than a job unwell.

When I'm so busy in big projects that I feel like I'm not accomplishing anything, I have to take the time to do relaxing, yet guaranteed productive things. Cooking and baking fall into this category, because I love to do that, and it is relaxing for me - plus there is usually a yummy reward at the end and I learn something in the process.

One night last week we were snowed in, so my brother and I decided to try a couple new recipes - peppermint marshmallows for me and cinnamon raisin bagels for him. We took a bunch of goofy video clips, and I later assembled them into a little video. I figured it would be something fun and relaxing and provide some interesting blog material. Wouldn't you know I can't get the video to export? It's so frustrating, yet days later, I still can't figure out what the problem is. I almost feel like that time has been wasted and probably could have been better spent.

Kind of like today has been - I've worked all day (in between interruptions) on one particular task, and after running into many problems, this task is still uncompleted. It's days like this that I want to just go away somewhere, or clone myself so I can do twice the work. (Although then I get cynical and say to myself, 'Expend twice the effort to still get no results? That sounds like a bad idea.' And then I want to go away somewhere all over again.)

Aren't Fridays supposed to be wonderful, happy days? They've turned into these terrible days where everything that goes wrong gets pushed into the weekend, which of course means that I'm giving up precious time on Saturday to do work-related things. What happened to the idyllic Fridays of my childhood?

But this Friday hasn't been all bad. My Valentine's roses are still strikingly beautiful and have hardly drooped since I received them last Saturday. They are sitting on my bedroom windowsill where they fill my room with their beautiful fragrance and I can admire them as I get ready each morning. This is probably why they have lasted this long and hopefully much longer, because the temperature of my bedroom windowsill is almost as cold as a refrigerator.

Also, a happy find in an old book. Paging through some books in my dad's office, I found this little postcard, mailed in 1950 with the grocery specials of the week and someone's grocery list scrawled on the back. Evidently the book was bought used and its previous owner had left the postcard in as a bookmark. So funny to read through these old prices:

ETA: I wrote the above at around 4PM while I waited for someone who was coming to help me with my 'problem' in this particular frustrating task. Wouldn't you know...he took one look at the computer screen and said, "Did you click start?" Um.... now why would I have done that??? In my defense, I've never had to click start before, but this was a different situation, and you would think I would have been smart enough to figure that out. Instead I was checking for corrupted files, rebooting the system, starting over...when all I needed to do was click start. At least my Friday ended up productive!!! :)

The Bookworm

A pile of books before her, she caressed them all lovingly. First two even stacks, then switching books from one pile to another, adding more to one pile, then all into one large pile again. She took pictures on her phone, her mittened hands fumbling with the keys. First a picture of the large stack, then smaller stack, then each individual book was picked up, rubbed with affection, and photographed from all angles - front cover, back cover, spine, inside introduction pages.

She didn't look like a typical bookworm. Dark hair chopped short with a shock of pink straight above her eyes. Piercings in her ears, her eyebrows, her lip. Striped toe socks with flip-flops, cut-off jeans. What was this for? Why all this caressing and sighing? Why all this intrigue over the selection of a book? Why the pictures?

"I feel so spoiled," she said to the boyfriend who wasn't listening, then presented the reason behind all of this. It was a gift card, which she laid on the table, eyes shining. "100 dollars!" she exclaimed, then added sadly, "but I can't get them all." Then she divided her piles again, gave a sad glance at those she left behind, and walked away with her new treasures.

Valentine's Day 2010

I have one thing to say about Valentine's Day: Life is too short to live with regret and what-ifs. Sure, I'm not married or even close to it, and I still choose to celebrate this holiday. Valentine's Day has always been one of my favorites - who can resist chocolate and roses?? Not me!!! I love celebrating the love of my favorite couples and their example to me.


With all that in mind, a sort-of last minute trip to New York City took place. In all, there were nine of us single girls who left Friday morning for the city - for a fabulous weekend of a Broadway show, good food, lots of laughing and memories, and shopping. :) 


We watched "The Miracle Worker" - which though a small production, was very, very good. We got all dressed up, went out to dinner, got 'lost' on the subway, stayed up late talking, and walked all over the city on Saturday siteseeing and shopping. 


(The only picture I took all weekend was of my gyro lunch on Saturday. But Becky posted some pictures here.)


I had so much fun this weekend. I love big cities and their excitement, especially when you can wander around and do whatever strikes you as fun instead of having to stick to a schedule. It was fun to have Anne along as well - a bit of a last single-girl fling since she is 'deserting' us this summer to join the ranks of the married. (Heehee...you know I had to work that in!)


It was a certainly a lot more fun than sitting at home and feeling sorry for myself! When I got home, there were a dozen roses waiting for me from my Dad and one of my girls in Sunday School gave me a bag of homeade chocolate-covered pretzels. So I still got my roses and chocolate! ;o)