Lullaby

“Someday we’ll all be gone, but lullabies go on and on; they never die- that’s how you and I will be” (“Lullaby,” Billy Joel).

Sometimes, reading God’s words is like being sung a sweet lullaby. The letters printed neatly on the page mean more than normal- as in, not divine- words do. You all know me, and you know that I love words. But there is a huge difference between the words of God and the words of man. It is just like the difference between reading a lullaby and having one sung to you.

Someday all of us will be gone, but God’s word endures. “Heaven and earth will pass away,” Jesus said to his disciples, “but my words will never pass away” (Luke 21:33).

Neither will his promise to us pass away. The promise that our sins would be atoned for, a promise secured by Jesus’ sacrifice on the cross, has been handed down and revered for ages- and for good reason, for it is the only way that we are saved. Theoretically, we would never catch ourselves taking that promise for granted. And yet, we are imperfect and sinful, and we forget sometimes that the reason we can have such a strong relationship with our Father is because he relinquished His son for us to be cleansed.

Today, let us recall all of the moments when it seemed like there was nothing left for us. Let us ponder upon every hardship, every illness, and every trial- let us remember how faithful God was in those times. When we were afraid, we trusted in Him, and He lifted us up again. When our sin consumed us and we had nowhere to turn, God did not avoid us, but instead sought us out. Perhaps some of us are experiencing times like these right now; perhaps we have just come out of them. Regardless, we have the ability to bring these things to God and Jesus, and they carry us through them. Instead of our sinful nature forever separating us from God, Jesus gave his life to make us closer to Him. I cannot fathom a more selfless sacrifice. Today- and every day- is His day. Let us be thankful for the lullaby of God’s word and the never-ending salvation that comes from Jesus’ sacrifice.

“Someday your child may cry, and if you sing this lullaby, then in your heart there will always be a part of me…” (“Lullaby,” Billy Joel). God’s love dries our tears, and although we don’t deserve it, we are always in His heart. In the same way He loves us, let us love one another. How else do we spread the lullaby of God, except by emulating his Greatest Command?


PS- This song has inexpressible meaning for my father and I, and I am grateful to all who read this post because it means I have the opportunity to share it with you. Here is the link: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dcnd55tLCv8 . It’s also called “Goodnight, My Angel,” which I think is a very fitting title.

Overwhelmed

My family recently brought me to a Brazilian steakhouse while we were visiting my grandmother in Denver, Colorado. Whether one eats meat or refrains, the amount of choices at this restaurant was absolutely incredible.

Structured to be more of a dining experience than a standard dinner, this restaurant seemed primarily to achieve

a) complete fulfillment of hunger for the customer (every dish was perpetually refilled, until earnest requests to stop were made), and

b) endless choices presented to the customer (waiters basically ran laps around the rooms, holding serving platters and tempting the customer with every morsel imaginable).

The only word that can describe this picture is overwhelming. Food surrounded me, accompanied by mouth-watering descriptions of each dish. No request went unnoticed; indeed, the waiters were practically omnipresent- they sensed that my mother or I was about to sit down, and pulled out and pushed in our chairs for us every single time. I never saw my water glass sink below half-full; within seconds another waiter would appear to replenish it.

As I sat eating and marveling at this perfectly oiled machine working before me, I realized that this restaurant is a lot like life. Every day we are faced with choices, both trivial and earth-shattering, that are pending. Should I expect this to come along, and prepare for it? Should I predict the consequences of choosing that? What will happen if I choose this? Will there be enough room if I do? How will this choice affect other people? Do I need to compensate for making this decision? Does this decision sadden or glorify God?

And yet, the Sunday-school lesson on choices is not my aim here. We all know that every choice we make matters, and that we need to be able to make the right choices or we will not go far in life. The new idea that dawned on me during this dinner is that of cooperation. My family had been to this restaurant before, and knew how to navigate successfully through the thick waters of choices. I learned when to save room for one dish and how to make the most of another. I learned that mint jelly actually is good on pork- in moderation. I learned how to politely persuade the attentive waiters that I would survive without another dish of polenta. All these lessons I could not have created and utilized on my own- I highly doubt I would have been able to develop even two of them on my own.

God wants us to learn the same lesson in our walk with Him. Heaven and earth know that we cannot make every right decision on our own, and in all honesty, we cannot make most right decisions on our own. It is through His help that we prosper and become people who “have it together.” This does not- and cannot- mean that we are never overwhelmed. On the contrary, taking God into account can sometimes overwhelm us even more in the short run. However, when we ask Him to help us make our choices, we accumulate strength and become shining examples to others. “If God is for us, who can be against us?” (Romans 8:31) When God is for us- and thankfully for us, he always is- then we “become blameless and pure, children of God without fault in a crooked and depraved generation, in which [we] shine like stars in the universe as [we] hold out the word of life…” (Philippians 2:15-16)

Let us do this together, and see what God has in store for us!

Stop This Train

“Stop This Train”
Time, one of the only constants in our lives, never seems to work exactly how we want it to. It’s often either too fast or too slow; those in-between moments seem to be the most remembered because they are “just right.”
I walked into AP US History one day, laughing with a close friend, and sat down. Our teacher greeted us and then talked about our homework. Then she stopped, looked around, and allowed a slight smile to creep onto her face. She seemed almost incredulous as she said, “Class, we have seven weeks left of the semester.”
I stopped, drew in a breath. Had I heard her correctly? This is why you need to get more sleep, I said to myself. You’re going crazy.
The rest of the class seemed to have the same reaction as I, in varying intensities. Ms. D nodded, and that same incredulous smile became a proud one.
It’s easy to become concerned when one is given a quantity of something. Seven weeks, forty-nine days total (respectively), thirty-five school days (approximately), 1,176 total hours (roughly). Then another semester, which could move even faster than the last one…summer will follow this, and we all know that summer usually speeds by. And after summer, what happens? We’ll join the ranks of high school students once more (minus a beloved friend, who will have graduated).
“Seems like nothing is black and white anymore/ Shades of grey and I feel a weight over my shoulder/ It’s kind of tough getting older…” (Colbie Caillat)
“Stop this train/ I want to get off and go home again/ I can’t take the speed it’s going in/ I know I can’t/ But honestly, won’t someone stop this train?” (John Mayer)**
“We must use time as a tool, not as a crutch.” (John F. Kennedy)
Needless to say, I felt the full shock of her statement (and perhaps more of a shock than was intended, since I am inclined to sentimentality). To me, the speed at which my life’s train was moving seemed dangerously akin to light speed. And as I know from watching Star Wars IV and V (for the first time) last weekend, there’s no turning back after one reaches light speed.
Time is the problem in this situation. I feel as though I do not have enough of it anymore. (On a quick side note, this is amusing to me because for the first sixteen-or so-years of my life, I was constantly anxious to “get older”).
So what is the solution? As of right now, when this realization is still fresh in my mind, I have determined to make the most of my time left at home, for I know “there is a time for everything” (Ecclesiastes 3:1). No matter how much I want to “stop this train” and freeze time, it will still go at the same speed. I can’t change that, so I need to accept it. (Those of you who know me well must be laughing right now, because you know that I have a difficult time accepting the fact that some things cannot be changed).
“Had a talk with my old man/ Said, ‘help me understand’/ He said ‘turn sixty-eight, you renegotiate/ don’t stop this train/ don’t for a minute change the place you’re in/ and don’t think I couldn’t ever understand…I’ve tried my hand….honestly, we’ll never stop this train.’”
I listened to this (and read the lyrics) and thought that it was something my own dad would say. It’s good advice, however formidable. Plus, the future is still something to look forward to. Just because I don’t want to leave the comfort of the present does not necessarily mean that the future will be awful. “Jesus looked at them and said, 'With man this is impossible, but with God all things are possible” (Matthew 19:26), and I know he is right. John F. Kennedy (quoted above) is also right: we need to use time as an opportunity.
Remind yourself with me: this train of life is moving at this speed for a reason. God has wonderful things planned for us, each at its appointed time, even though we do not always like that or understand it.
“’Cause now I see, I’ll never stop this train…” (John Mayer)
** I selected this song as the frame of this blog post because it really resonated with me. I do not know what John Mayer is like (what his beliefs are), and I have heard a lot of mixed answers to this question. So here’s my disclaimer: I like the song, and am not familiar enough with the singer to make a decision on that front. Thank you in advance to my readers for understanding this. Here’s the link to the song if you want to listen to it: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5BTzNX5OMN4
- Jessica S.

Dad's Theory of "The Human Condition"

Reading in Ecclesiastes last night, I came across a verse in chapter five that reminded me of something my dad has often referred to as “the human condition.” He likes to tell me that the suffering, happiness, sadness, joy, etc that all humans have to endure is part of this human condition, this cycle of life that all of humanity observes in some concentration.

“Then I realized,” writes Solomon in verse eighteen, “that it is good and proper for a man to eat and drink, and to find satisfaction in his toilsome labor under the sun during the few days of life God has given him- for this is his lot.” I read this and thought of Dad’s theory.

“Why do things happen the way they do, dad?”

“Well dolly, it’s just the raw human condition. We’ve all got our lot, and we need to do what we can to make the best of it.”

An answer like that usually confuses a child, subdues a middle school student, and causes reflection in a teenager. I’ve been reflecting more upon it lately.

Dad’s answer aligns with a poem that I adore by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow; it is called “A Psalm of Life.” One stanza reads “Not enjoyment, and not sorrow/ Is our destined end or way; / But to act, that each tomorrow/ Find us farther than to-day.” I always think of dad when I read this. To me, Longfellow wants us to realize that life is not the same unless it possesses emotion, whether good, bad, or somewhere in between.

Another example that comes to mind is Brave New World, by Aldous Huxley, which I read for Language Arts last year. Although I did not enjoy the book very much, I thought it very effective for this reason. In the novel, the inhabitants of earth do not know what love is. They confuse romantic love with lust, and the notion of a loving family horrifies them. Thus, one of Huxley’s major arguments is that feelings and emotions (in any form) are necessary to a meaningful life.

Of course, Jane Austen has something wise to say upon this subject, and she even takes it a little further. She writes in Mansfield Park that "there will be little rubs and disappointments everywhere, and we are all apt to expect too much; but then, if one scheme of happiness fails, human nature turns to another; if the first calculation is wrong, we make a second better: we find comfort somewhere." Austen does not only state dad's theory of the human condition, but also declares that we can overcome the "little rubs and disappointments" that it encompasses.

Longfellow’s poem “The Rainy Day” drives this point home. The last stanza says “Be still, sad heart! and cease repining; / Behind the clouds is the sun still shining; / Thy fate is the common fate of all, / Into each life some rain must fall, / Some days must be dark and dreary.”
And so, as one may conclude, this truth is simple. We should all believe it and apply it to our lives. So why do we refuse to do this? Helen Keller knows the answer. She once said that “people do not like to think. If one thinks, one must reach conclusions. Conclusions are not always pleasant.”

And she is correct. The conclusion is that our highs and lows, joys and woes are usually not revolutionary in the grand scheme of things. We are not alone in our suffering, and neither are we solitary in our happiness. All of humanity experiences these things; as dad would say, it is the human condition.

I’m not going to pretend that I like seeing the world this way, because truthfully, it forces me to put life in perspective. When I know that my problems are not as huge as I’d thought they were, I can no longer declare that my suffering is the worst, that I am the only victim. As humans, we like to be the victims because it frees us from blame (at least temporarily). So although I’ve learned this lesson from my dad, and I know it is valuable and true, I won’t always want to apply it to my life. I’m not asking anybody else to do so either. Perhaps together we can take baby steps, accepting that what we must endure (whether pleasant or unpleasant) is what we’re meant to endure, and that it defines us as humans. My hope is that we help each other in this acceptance, so that “each tomorrow fined us farther than to-day.”

Thank you Dad, for helping me grow even when I don’t necessarily want to.

A thought for my readers: what lessons do people or situations teach you?

Angels

One of my earliest memories of youth group is hearing our youth minister tell us in no uncertain terms that “when you become a Christian, life doesn’t automatically become easier.” In fact, he used to say with conviction, it often gets harder.
I always used to wonder, “but isn’t that obvious, since life in and of itself is usually hard?”
Now, as I grow older, I realize that what he said was very true. When I became a Christian, my life changed. I had new responsibilities to myself, I had to make more time for reading my Bible and praying regularly. I felt (although this may not be true) like I had a higher moral code to live up to.
And yet, slowly I began seeing how all of my worries, fears, and stress dissolved when I thrust them upon God; the limitless help God offers became known to me, at least partially.
I saw my life through different eyes. Situations turning out for the better, after all of my anxiety about them…were my prayers and the prayers of others able to be so effective? People coming into my life at a time when (although I did not know this) I needed them most. Similarly, people leaving my life at what seemed like the wrong time, and then my later understanding that I had done all I could for them.
When I was a child, sleep evaded me. I hated it and tried every measure I could think of to push it from my life. Why would I want to sleep? What if I missed something important? I also frequently experienced terrible nightmares, so when I was young I was afraid to sleep.
To relax me and coax me into sleeping, my mom would tell me that God sent angels to watch over me each night, and they took turns making sure I was safe. She elaborated about how they looked, talked, everything; then when my dad came in to tuck me in, he and I would say a prayer for all of the “angels” in my life.
I’ve always found it amusing to wonder if some of the people in my life are angels sent to help me through. As I write this, I see how incredibly egotistical I sound, but readers please, bear with me a little longer.
Perhaps it’s just the wonder of God working in my life through people that instilled this notion in my head. Maybe I just like to play Author and give specific purposes to all of the characters in the story of my life. But I have to wonder if those that have helped me the most are really just human beings, like everybody else, or if they are something more.
Life has become hard recently. I thank God that I forwent trying to keep my problems to myself; I immediately told my closest friends and asked them to pray. I utilized every medium possible for this task- phone, Faceboook, texting, and actual face-to-face conversation. The latter has helped me the most. I recently told a few friends about my problem, and as I was standing on the sidewalk, listening to their encouragement and insight, tears discovered that they could flow through my eyes quite easily. These, and all of the others who helped me so far, were my angels. I took notice of how they looked, talked, everything; for a moment, they were there just for me, and I knew that this feeling of complete comfort and safety would not pass. The lyrics of “Lean on Me” rang in my mind, and I felt the burdens of life melt from my shoulders.
Days later, when I am beyond the emotional overflow that I experienced that night, I look back and see how completely God’s presence was in that situation. The Lord had (has) done great things for me, and I am filled with joy. Third Day writes accurately that “I caught a glimpse of Your splendor/ In the corner of my eye/ The most beautiful thing I've ever seen/ And it was like a flash of lightning/ Reflected off the sky/ And I know I'll never be the same…”
Whether they really are angels, or simply wonderful human beings, I do not know. Perhaps Helen Keller is right, saying that “when we do the best that we can, we never know what miracle is wrought in our life, or in the life of another.” A close friend once told me that “life isn’t for the faint of heart,” and I know this to be true. But I would also add that life isn’t meant to be endured alone. We need God, and we need those He sends to help us. Life may not become easier when one becomes a Christian, but I know that it opens doors that were otherwise impossible to breach.
And so this is my prayer for the angels in my life: that they realize how important they are in my life, and in the lives of others; that they never lose sight of God and the comfort he provides; and finally, that they ask for help when they need it, so they can experience the feeling of blessed relief that I have.

The Electronic Age of Deprivation

As I am to leave later this afternoon for California I thought I’d write a blog post before my return, which will inevitably bring last-minute distractions such as homework, meetings, and preparations for school. Time is more fleeting than ever it seems, especially as the summer comes to a close. But that is another subject for another post.

The death of letter-writing as a major form of communication has been sorrowful for me ever since I began watching its decline as a little girl. My grandmother and I have been writing letters to each other for as long as I can remember. She always picked a blank card with pretty designs, or a nice piece of stationary to write upon. Her distinctly twentieth-century script was a puzzle for me, fascinating in and of itself; I put conscious effort towards focusing on the sentences, because I was unused to seeing any style except print, and they were sometimes difficult to decipher. Anything and everything could be discussed in a letter, and I spent hours deliberating over what I would say. I had to afford her as much clarity as I could, because with letters one cannot ask for explanation except in the next letter. She took to sending me newspaper clippings of stories or advertisements that she thought I might enjoy reading; perhaps this contributes to my love of newspapers/magazines, etc,. Saving her letters and reading them over again is definitely one of the largest reasons why I mourn the quick dissolution of letter-writing. Why not take these treasures out again on a rainy day, when a bright bit of sunshine is imperative to getting through the storm?

I woke up at five o’clock this morning to go out to breakfast with my mom and brother, since this is the last time I will see my mom for about a week. For whatever reason I could not go back to sleep once I returned, so I loaded in the 2005 version of Pride and Prejudice in the DVD player. To those of you who haven’t seen it or read the book, you should! And also, I promise I will not spoil things for you. All I mean to accomplish by this seemingly irrelevant side note is to remark that in that era, writing letters was more than a form of communication. It was our Facebook, Myspace, and Twitter. It was the only chance to record one’s feelings down on paper, on something palpable that could be passed around or announced to family and friends. Letters could convey deep sentiments to a close companion, or confuse others with vague statements and clever word choice. Of course they had their cons; information was not received immediately, which made emergencies far more anxiety-ridden. Shortages of paper, ink, or time could also pose some challenges for the writer. But in my mind, the benefits of these letters were far more important than the implications of them. As with my grandmother’s letters, they were a surprise to read. Unlike emails or texts, each one could be different and special.

It is entirely possible, given the hour of my rising this morning, that I am run away with my sentiments about letters. I’m not afraid to admit this to my readers, but I do believe that my case is valid. Call letter-writing an art form, a diverse and interesting form of communication, or a valued element of history. Whatever name it goes by, I hope this practice is at least partially revived, so my children can experience this same wonder throughout their lives.

Fantasy That Held My Attention

As a rule, I have distanced myself from the fantasy genre, mostly because I have not read very many fantasy books that caught (and held) my interest. The plots seemed to all run together; no longer could I distinguish the books as individuals. Also, the epic heroes/heroines seemed far from characters that I could relate to and “root for.” While usually well-written and intelligent, I opted instead for classic fiction, where I could be assured diversity.
So, when recommended that I read The Diamond Throne by David Eddings, I had my doubts about whether it would be worth my time. I had similar feelings about the first book of the Twilight series, by Stephanie Meyer, which was recommended to me as well.

Why did they hold my attention?

However, both of these disproved my reservations about fantasy books. They shared, I discovered, four distinct elements that other fantasy books lacked: suspense, likeable characters, frequent and major plot changes, and frequent changes of setting.

Suspense is crucial to many stories, and especially to those in the fantasy genre. It helps set the tone and mood, so that the reader can vividly feel the tension that the characters are experiencing. In The Diamond Throne, Eddings uses suspense very often, and the pace of the novel rapidly increases as the story continues. Similarly, in Meyer’s novel, suspense creates a haunting feel, as though the situations will be disrupted at any moment. Both of these help the reader feel as though a sense of extreme imminence exists.

In my experience, classic fiction novels (such as those of Austen, Dickens, and Forster) largely rely upon likeable characters. The protagonists of these antique treasures stay with the reader long after the last page has been absorbed, because they are relatable. The reader has compassion upon them, and wants them to succeed in everything. Sometimes, these characters feel like actual people, and a sort of friendship begins between the reader and the character. The fantasy genre has led me to many characters that are too perfect; perhaps I simply have bad luck in selecting books in this genre, but either way, I am left unsatisfied. In both Eddings’ and Meyer’s books, though, I met characters who I have come to care very much about. Whether I am worried over the welfare of Sparhawk and Sephrenia, or I share deep sympathy for Bella Swan, the characters seem like real people with real flaws. I berate them for their mistakes and I rejoice in their triumphs. I can easily see their personalities staying in my mind for years to come.

Nobody who knows me well can misunderstand me when I state that Jane Austen in my favorite author. However, I have noticed that her novels lack the constant plot changes that fantasy books offer. As opposed to lengthy, deep intellectual commentary (common in Austen’s novels), fantasy books regularly introduce major plot changes that keep the story moving. I have heard fantasy dubbed “light reading” because it is mostly devoid of the themes/assertions that make books weigh heavily upon the mind. Instead of dwelling upon a few cumulative circumstances, these books are always initiating new developments; instead of trying to prove a larger truth, they are telling a tale. In both The Diamond Throne and Twilight, swift plot change is normal. Therefore, the reader seldom finds his or her self wishing that some parts are omitted; in this case, the books can even end too suddenly.

Classic fiction can be known for its detailed descriptions of setting. In fantasy books, however, setting change is also quite frequent. I believe that this compensates for the lack of commentary; it varies the content of the book. Since fantasy is usually composed of dialogue and plot development, the setting descriptions (though they may be brief) offer a contrast for the reader. When reading about a new setting the reader can take a break from the circumstances and happenings in the characters lives, and simply breathe. Thus the contrast is a welcome one.

I think these four central elements contributed to my overall pleasure in reading The Diamond Throne and Twilight. Without them, they would be like the other fantasy novels I’ve read: dull and predictable.
While these books were not perfect, I definitely enjoyed them and believe they were worth my time. I found myself upset when they ended, because they each belong to a series, and I didn’t have the next book readily available for either. For other bibliophiles like myself, who especially enjoy classic literature, I would recommend trying a fantasy book or two. The chances are high that they will surpass your expectations.