Category Archives: Uncategorized

Today, at long last, I presented my new curriculum to the educators and staff at WhyKnow. Well, I presented most of it, anyway–I discovered while browsing through the printed pages that there were plenty of gaps and missing references mixed in, which I distinctly or fuzzily remember promising myself I would “eventually get to.” Probably those all-nighters spent on it recently. Still, the work as a whole is looking pretty sharp, and now I get to turn my attention from composing text and activities, toward some of the practicals: fonts, graphics, etc. This should be fun. As to the intended font, I’m thinking Perpetua 13.

It suddenly strikes me as odd, this expression I have just used: “at long last.” Such a strange collection of terms is this–“at” gives the sense of arriving, which I certainly have (almost) done with this project, “long” describes duration (or so I’d assume…physical length doesn’t make much sense here)…but “last”? How does this apply? Did I manage to “last” or survive this long experience? Or does it imply finality?

Gosh, I sound boring (grin). It has been awhile since I let my imagination loose with creative writing, since this project has gobbled up most of my creativity in recent months, so I apologise for being so dry. In time, in time. It’s a pity, though, that I can’t scratch something fun out just now, for I have been reading Chesterton’s Orthodoxy lately and thinking much about faerie tales and the grace of imagination…

Again, give me a few weeks and perhaps I’ll be my clever self again (smile).

Where to begin…

I’m wondering what I should do with this blog. I began a blog about eighteen months ago on a rival site (xanga.com), encouraged others to join, and by now have quite a happy little colony of friends floating together there. But I have become less enamoured with the xanga tendency toward provocative pics in their banner ads, and rather prefer the simplistic forms here at blogspot. But this leaves me with a number of dilemmas:

1. Do I try to juggle two blogs at once? This seems audacious and overkill, to say the least.

2. Suppose I remove to this blog permanently. Should I then try to lure friends away from xanga to join me here? I know, I know–if I really love them, I’ll let them go, set them free…and if the love is real, they’ll fly to my Blogger side, right? Not that there is much benefit to bringing them here. Thus far, I haven’t discovered a way to create blogrings on this site, which would be rather helpful and communal in (one would hope) a positive way. Also, this site requires more ingenuity to manage, as one must dig into the lines of code oneself to make changes (xanga is far easier), and I fear most of my friends are almost as computer-inept as I. So.

3. If I try to maintain both, will I simply copy entries from one site to the other? Again, I cannot believe my words are so important to the world…and that sounds tedious for a guy like me. Even now, I can think back to some lovely entries on the other site and a happy sigh escapes me. I do so love to write…

Okay, it’s settled, then. I’m going to add slowly and quietly to this blog and still keep the old one for the sake of my constant companions there. We’ll see what ending comes of this…

BryanEllis did it…mostly by ground-thumping, then jumping around like a maniac.
The Tenth Challenge is complete.
Well done, my friend.

Oh, and…way to go, Jim Halpert!  Step on up to the plate, bro.

And who will be the CPW for the coming week?
Only time and opportunity will tell…

Let’s play a quick game–two of the statements below are true, and one is false.  See if you can figure out which is a lie…

1. I am wearing a pink t-shirt right now.
2. I went to bed at eight-thirty this morning, and slept till noon.
3. I am one foxy-looking fellow today.

As you make your guesses, remember: be kind.

I felt the need to share this piece of humble, brotherly encouragement before my little xanga hiatus. 

There are three female voices which have the strange but sweet effect on me for their beauty, purity, strength, and marvelous sense of command.  They command the air and tremble it in such ways, I cannot understand it.  It’s almost like one’s soul is given a voice in theirs (does that make sense?).  I am simply moved; I could listen to these three sing anything again and again.

The other two voices are that of Fleming from the old Fleming and John days, and Leigh Nash from Sixpence None the Richer.

Your songs are lovely, Claire (smile).  Thanks for the cd.  Za pravdu.

This site’s manager temporarily out of service.

The echo still resounded, “Let there be Light!”  This Light beyond all light which transports the soul from the black of evil to the bright shine of goodly glory had come, had spilled all over the earth and over the hearts of men, exposing all, radiating all, loving all, burning all.  Some seared souls arose against that Light and resolved themselves that this Light would have no part of them!  They shook angry fists to the heavens from which that great Light shone; they spewed blasphemous rage.  They sought to destroy the Light. 

With a sigh, the Light absorbed their derision and rejection.  The Light faded with the weight of infinite sorrow shrouding its glory moment by moment.  At last, the very Daylight died.  There was morning and there was evening: the first day.

Rage.  The earth itself did tremble and rupture, and the dead began to crawl from their graves.  Look!  Look to the heavy curtain of the universe, veiling all things from the unapproachable Light which would consume them!  The glorious Light, the Holy of holiest Light, which men could not enter lest they die–the marvelous Light did not kill the foolish trespassing Man, but true to the nature of Light, it only exposed the reality: that the trespassing Man was already dead!  The curtain sways as all things slip into tumultuous darkness, heaving groaning despairing dark.  The curtain sways, and suddenly is torn!  Men avert their eyes, lest they too die…fall to their knees, grieving that they should stand so close to the Holy Room…and then they raise their eyes.  They look, in faith, they look and can see as the Light wills them to see!

Silence elsewhere.  Men strike hands in sinful pledges, women seduce, children revolt, parents despise, fathers abuse, mothers tantrum, sons lust, daughters envy.  It is as any other day.  There was morning and there was evening: the second day.

Night passes and begins to ebb away.  A slow blue burns the edge of the horizon, burning itself into a watery light which creeps farther and farther heavenward, ascending as only the Light can ascend!  At the same moment, watery tears yet fall from the cheeks of those precious few who loved the Light which left them two days hence.  Will they be left alone in darkness?  Darkness still within them, darkness all around–O, will the Sun also rise?

Unknown to them, the earth again moved–this time, but a single great boulder, a stone which stood before the shadowy cave.  A hundred men who doubted the Light (but also doubted Death enough to stand as guards against the imperishable Light) look in awe for a moment and are struck down.  They lie as though dead. 

It is the breaking of the Dawn!  Light passes among them, and among many more, thousands upon thousands more, Light passes among you and I…the Light burns on, loves on, restores on, proclaims on, satisfies on, sears on, frightens on, rages on!  The Light remains and darkness cannot overwhelm Him!  O God!  What Light!

It was morning and it is forever morning: the Third Day.

Something about good stories makes me long to be the characters–heroic, simple, pure and plain, witty, just, true, beautiful.  I was reading Prince Caspian the other day and began to have that wish again, that I were such a young man as he, destined for a throne which I must fight to win from the hands of wicked men.  Surrounded by goodly men and brave, I would battle and calculate and consider and decide in every hour the acts of faith which would lead me thus (always humbly thankful that there is a great Lion standing tense nearby, dangerous in His goodness and eager that I should have the day’s victory).  What a difference comes to a man who knows he is meant for greatness…

(Even as I write, I wonder, can you follow my thinking when I say that this knowledge and greatness are no arrogant thing?  For a man may be truly great and all the while know He Who is greater still; a man may speak and act with supernatural authority, because he himself is under authority.  This is what I mean…)

…such a man may dare great things indeed!  But surely I do fight wickedness within that I might win the prize, and a part of that prize is a crown!  So I think of it–how would I live if I knew that I were one day to rule a great kingdom?  How would you?

I was wondering about this yesterday as I sat on a very large rock on Signal Mountain, looking out across the river valley, and my journal alone receives those thoughts, but here is a sum: we who belong in Christ, and are found in Him, we are also co-heirs with Him, and His promises are true which tell of the heaven and earth to come.  We are stewards and slaves of nature now, but then we shall be masters and kings!  Not gods but kings; kings and kingdoms are His and in His hands, and so shall we be, rulers of dominions and kings of kingdoms, and He shall be our King of kings!

Have you ever looked at life in such a way?  Perhaps not…it seems the stuff of egomaniacal cults or selfish religions, and I hope you understand I am not urging any man to embrace Christ for the sake of dominion.  Whenever I look out across great spaces of the earth, I am immediately struck by the complete sensation that I am both master of the earth (by God’s original command) and but a tiny, fallen creature in it!  God made man ruler over the earth; yet even the smallest of that earth’s boulders might dash my head to bits.  So we are weak: we do not come to Christ that we might have power of our own–truly we come as beggars and enemies of God, desperate beyond hope that we might only Live and delight in His power.

And still, God has plainly told us we shall reign with Christ that we might be blessed by this knowledge!  We shall never be as worms or microbes, nor the beasts of the field; we shall be kings and queens!  In the grand scheme, a king is still a very small thing, smaller probably than we even imagine…yet with a greatness, too, which our common days and common efforts rarely afford us.

By grace, look at your day today from the eyes of an heir apparent to a throne…

::Edit::  I had the privilege of spending a few hours with Claire this afternoon, just singing and playing some of our songs, recording them for a project she has in business class.  She was kind enough to let me ruin some of her songs (by dreadful drumming and other accompaniment–grin), but in all the songs sounded really awesome and she should be very proud!  If you have not had the pleasure of hearing her sing, you are totally missing out on a blessing from the Lord…I recommend you visit her page and pester her till she sings for you or sends you a cd.

My bathroom has its own time zone, didn’t you know?   Apparently through some cosmic confusion the bathroom in my apartment occupies the same position in the day as some places well over the Atlantic Ocean–you see, I have a small clock on the counter near the sink (a terrible electric hazard, I know, but I’m just such a daredevil), and whenever I try to set the time aright, after my first good hot steamy shower, the time shows a little over an hour ahead of when I set it.  I can only assume the wet shower awakens the bathroom to its true self, and it adjusts the time on the clock accordingly. 

Pretty awesome, isn’t it?  You might think of the infinite possibilities such magic might permit me–for example, an hour before sporting events I should be able to pick the winner, right?  At this point I would, with grace, remind you that differing timezones doesn’t actually mean that one person lives in the future of the other person.  Silly.

Still, I can’t say that I am terribly frustrated by this time/space anomaly–in fact, it’s rather useful on occasion.  For example (and here I am about to confess something rather terrible, praying in advance that any socially respectable reader will forgive me), suppose I receive a phone call which lasts much longer than I’d like.  Well, simply step from bedroom into bathroom (it’s true! I occasionally take my phone into the bathroom with me!), and suddenly–“Oh my, look at the time!  I really should be headed to bed.  I’ll talk to you later!”  See how convenient?  Then I simply step out of the magic water closet and I am right back in time with everyone else, having another hour to write or read or some such.  I really must encourage everyone in getting one–if you have the means, I highly recommend picking up just such a bathroom.

It may be there are some drawbacks to this arrangement, too, but really who am I to complain?

My friend Matty posted a brief question regarding how we are to be in the world and not of the world, and I began writing a comment to encourage him but found the comment too long to encumber his site with…so I post my prayer here instead:

“I pray for them.  I am not praying for the world, but for those You have given Me, for they are Yours….I say these things while I am still in the world, so that they may have the full measure of My joy within them.  I have given them Your Word and the world has hated them, for they are not of the world any more than I am of the world! 

My prayer is not that You take them out of the world but that You protect them from the Evil One.  They are not of the world, even as I am not of it. 

Sanctify them by the truth; Your Word is Truth!”

O Jesus, what does it mean to be protected from the Evil One?  You pray for us that it should be so, according to the grace of our Father in heaven, and You present it as alternative to being brought out of the world.  So while we are in it, I must believe we are as strangers, foreigners, aliens in this place with citizenship in a High Country, Your Country.  Therefore, let me look on the world again with the eyes of a visitor, having nothing to do with its customs and practices, for I am not hoping to win a home here.  This is not home; let me delight in and cry over those things which in their small way remind me of the Home You have prepared for me, and let me utterly detest and avoid any thing which does not so remind me.  What has light to do with darkness?  And we are the children of Your light, holy and unapproachable.  Shall I touch the things of death, I who am alive by Your life?  May it never be!

This I say, knowing that every day my feet, ankles, and trousers get sullied by the dust and grime of this world.  I grieve, my God, that I should always be such a panderer toward You, a beggar whose feet need washing; and I shout with furious joy, Lord, that Your Word is true to the utmost, and can wash and wash again the muddied man who is in You.  New every morning, Your grace is enough.  And every day, may I learn from You, my Teacher, to walk by ways less filthy and crude, trudge less and less through the muck of this tiresome ungodly wilderness, until at last I walk the streets of purest gold. 

O God, remind me of my Lord’s prayer for me!  That I would be sanctified, made holy as You are holy…You promise to complete that good work!  But let me think, as I daily choose this path or that, this activity for the next hour, that word spoken in the next moment, think upon the fact that You desire my sanctification.  Open my eyes, that I may truly see how we, who with unveiled faces all reflect Your glory, are indeed being transformed into Your likeness from glory to glory!  And let me test my activities by Your measure…

Even so, Lord.