I read this book with a few other moms. Here are some of the lines that stood out to me.
---
Few parents realize that they have a responsibility to teach their children to handle anger in a mature manner.
---
Nothing works well if a child's love needs are not met. Only the child who feels genuinely loved and cared for can do her best. You may truly love your child, but unless she feels it... she will not feel loved.
---
Receiving love and learning to give love is the soil out of which all positive endeavors grow.
---
When you use physical touch with these children, your message of love will come through loud and clear. A tender hug communicates love to any child, but it shouts love to these children. Conversely, if you use physical touch as an expression of anger or hostility, you will hurt these children very deeply. A slap in the face is detrimental to any child, but it is devestating to children whose primary love language is touch.
(Beck here: I really appreciate this concept as applied to all the love languages.)
---
The volume of a parent's voice has great influence over a child's reaction to what the parents says. It takes practice to speak softly, but we can all learn how to do it.
---
All children are guided by someone... Loving guidance always has a child's best interests in mind. Its purpose is not to make parents and other adults look good; its purpose is to help the child develop the qualities that will serve him well in the future.
---
Because your children will learn more from talking with you than you will probably ever realize, it is crucial that you spend time in healthy conversation with them, no matter what their age.
---
In fact, disciplining without love is like trying to run a machine without oil. It may appear to be working for a while, but will end in disaster.
---
Young children are not subtle about asking for our love. They are noisy and often do things that seem inappropriate to an adult way of thinking.
---
However, punish the child when he already feels genuinely guilty for his behavior, and you hinder his ability to develop a good conscience. In such a situation, punishment usually produces only anger and resentment.
---
Parents are the first and most important teachers.
---
Children are more emotional than cognitive; they remember feelings more readily than they do facts.
---
One sign of anxiety in children is an inability to easily make eye contact. An extremely anxious child will have problems approaching others, adults as well as peers.
---
Equally important, we parents must learn to handle our own anger as we respond to our children. Few adults have mastered appropriate ways to handle anger... Parents who have not learned to control their own anger are not likely to train their children how to do it.
---
You will notice that passive-aggressive behavior is at the bottom of the ladder; it represents totally unmanaged anger.
---
The wonderful thing about human relationships is that they are not static. The potential for making them better is always present.
---
When children feel genuinely loved, their whole world looks brighter. Their inner spirit is more secure and they are far more likely to reach their potential for good in the world.
Showing posts with label Books 2012. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Books 2012. Show all posts
Friday, July 13, 2012
Wednesday, May 23, 2012
Some Assembly Required
I enjoy Anne Lamott's non-fiction. Read this book in a few hours.
---
Sam held Isaiah so differently from how he did even a month ago, because his hands have become the hands of a father.
---
Life is mostly okay right now, sometimes lovely and peaceful; and when it's not, it's hard and weird for my nineteen-year-old son to have a baby, and the scary parts feel like they could break you. But then those parts pass, against all odds, and things are mostly okay again, temporarily. Until they get hard and weird again and break your heart. It's not a great system. If I were God's West Coast rep, I'd come up with something easier, whose outcome you could bank on.
---
Still, I pretend to be beatific in my neutrality. I let them flail it out, because that is the sort of caring soul I am.
---
But if I try to shift my arm even an inch, he'd blink wide-awake--there's something so horror-movie about the way babies' eyes pop open, to catch you, like you're trying to escape. You feel like Daffy Duck when he finally gets away from the huge bad guy, and nails the door shut, but turns around to find the guy behind him in the same room.
---
I am experiencing sickening fear, the need to control, and the ubiquitous litany of good ideas. I thank God again and again that my mind does not have a public address system or an open mike every evening.
---
"You've got to learn to let go and let your children fall, and fail. If you try to protect them from hurt, and always rush to their side with Band-Aids, they won't learn about life, and what is true, what works, what helps, and what are real consequences of certain kinds of behavior. When they do get hurt, which they will, they won't know how to take care of their grown selves. They won't even know where the aspirin is kept."
She apparently thinks the good part is that God has such huge, great love for them, whereas I think it is unaddressably bad news that they will get so badly hurt in life.
---
"I had no idea how damaged I was until I had a kid--how totally powerless." - Sam Lamott
---
I faked equanimity, which is my strong suit, and pointed out the few autumn wildflowers: buttercups and white milkmaids. But betrayal and suspicion streaked across my mind like vapor trails.
---
I've always thought I could use my brain and my heart to jockey everyone around to the good. But life is not jockeyable. When you try, you make people infinitely crazier than they already were, including or especially yourself.
---
"We as parents have the illusion that we make our kids stronger, but they make us stronger... the illusion of control in your life is smashed. Sometimes when you're a parent you're just hanging on by a pinkie finger, and you say to God, 'Trusting you, Dude--I trust you have a plan for us.'" - Sam Lamott
---
I saw a dozen snowy egrets in what must have been a very delicious meadow by the side of the road, and I had enough sense to pull over and sit and watch them eat for a while.
---
That's all I know how to do--show up and ask God for help. Love and grace are bigger than the nightmare, supposedly. Without trusting this, we're doomed and ridiculous.
---
"This is a point in my life when I need God to have a plan, because I don't have a plan. I don't have any idea of where this is all going. I keep finding this trust and surrender to take the next right step, because I don't have a choice. I can be miserable and controlling, or I can trust and surrender." - Sam Lamott
---
So I called Sam from the car, feeling distraught, duped, ripped off. I'd bought another lemon, which must mean that I'm a lemon.
"Now, Mom," he said sternly, "what is the first thing we do?" I didn't have a clue, unless it was to assign blame. "We seek wise counsel. You call Rachel after we hang up." Rachel is the IT person who always fixes our computers.
---
Besides, I knew beyond a shadow of doubt that if something was not my problem, I probably did not have the solution.
There are no words for how much I hate, resent, and resist this.
---
I said to God, "I think I'm done. I want to come back." But I couldn't think of how to do that, so I called Tom.
---
The people sane in Fijian, and their harmonies reminded me of Soweto. This kind of beauty softens you and expands you, which is good, but of course it makes you vulnerable to all sorts of horrible things, like, oh, feelings. And being in your body. The harmonies are soul tenderizers. They get right in there into the fibers of your being, into the usually armored muscles and chambers, and open you up with awe."
---
It was great to be right. Really, it's the most important thing--to be right, and to know whom to blame.
---
"You are in withdrawal. You're in victim mode. And that has nothing to do with Amy. That's lifelong. You need radical self-care and acceptance."
"I feel exposed and needy and repulsive."
"Fabulous! Now we're starting to get somewhere. We can address this, and why your good ideas cannot help. Or you can stay in blame-and-rescue."
This was a rather stunning and rude view of my suffering.
---
The job of a good parent is to be dispensable. No one remembered to tell my parents that, but I know it is true.
It's not morally right to make yourself indispensable.
---
I got in bed late with the dogs and cat, and lay in the dark praying and thinking. It is a violation of trust to use your kids as caulking for the cracks in you. So I said to God, Fine, have it your way. What ev.
It's a new prayer, to add to the other two, Help me, and Thank you: What ev. I should get this tattooed on my shoulder, "Help me, thank you, what ev, and lower the bar."
---
Temporarily unable to remember what city I was in, I said, "I just want to go back to---wherever it is that I am." Then I realized that this was possibly the most brilliant thing I have ever said. All I have to do for a shot at salvation is go back to where I am, and that means wherever my feet are, not my poor old pinball head.
---
Tom said that either you learn to live with paradox and ambiguities, or you'll be six years old for the rest of your life.
---
Sam held Isaiah so differently from how he did even a month ago, because his hands have become the hands of a father.
---
Life is mostly okay right now, sometimes lovely and peaceful; and when it's not, it's hard and weird for my nineteen-year-old son to have a baby, and the scary parts feel like they could break you. But then those parts pass, against all odds, and things are mostly okay again, temporarily. Until they get hard and weird again and break your heart. It's not a great system. If I were God's West Coast rep, I'd come up with something easier, whose outcome you could bank on.
---
Still, I pretend to be beatific in my neutrality. I let them flail it out, because that is the sort of caring soul I am.
---
But if I try to shift my arm even an inch, he'd blink wide-awake--there's something so horror-movie about the way babies' eyes pop open, to catch you, like you're trying to escape. You feel like Daffy Duck when he finally gets away from the huge bad guy, and nails the door shut, but turns around to find the guy behind him in the same room.
---
I am experiencing sickening fear, the need to control, and the ubiquitous litany of good ideas. I thank God again and again that my mind does not have a public address system or an open mike every evening.
---
"You've got to learn to let go and let your children fall, and fail. If you try to protect them from hurt, and always rush to their side with Band-Aids, they won't learn about life, and what is true, what works, what helps, and what are real consequences of certain kinds of behavior. When they do get hurt, which they will, they won't know how to take care of their grown selves. They won't even know where the aspirin is kept."
She apparently thinks the good part is that God has such huge, great love for them, whereas I think it is unaddressably bad news that they will get so badly hurt in life.
---
"I had no idea how damaged I was until I had a kid--how totally powerless." - Sam Lamott
---
I faked equanimity, which is my strong suit, and pointed out the few autumn wildflowers: buttercups and white milkmaids. But betrayal and suspicion streaked across my mind like vapor trails.
---
I've always thought I could use my brain and my heart to jockey everyone around to the good. But life is not jockeyable. When you try, you make people infinitely crazier than they already were, including or especially yourself.
---
"We as parents have the illusion that we make our kids stronger, but they make us stronger... the illusion of control in your life is smashed. Sometimes when you're a parent you're just hanging on by a pinkie finger, and you say to God, 'Trusting you, Dude--I trust you have a plan for us.'" - Sam Lamott
---
I saw a dozen snowy egrets in what must have been a very delicious meadow by the side of the road, and I had enough sense to pull over and sit and watch them eat for a while.
---
That's all I know how to do--show up and ask God for help. Love and grace are bigger than the nightmare, supposedly. Without trusting this, we're doomed and ridiculous.
---
"This is a point in my life when I need God to have a plan, because I don't have a plan. I don't have any idea of where this is all going. I keep finding this trust and surrender to take the next right step, because I don't have a choice. I can be miserable and controlling, or I can trust and surrender." - Sam Lamott
---
So I called Sam from the car, feeling distraught, duped, ripped off. I'd bought another lemon, which must mean that I'm a lemon.
"Now, Mom," he said sternly, "what is the first thing we do?" I didn't have a clue, unless it was to assign blame. "We seek wise counsel. You call Rachel after we hang up." Rachel is the IT person who always fixes our computers.
---
Besides, I knew beyond a shadow of doubt that if something was not my problem, I probably did not have the solution.
There are no words for how much I hate, resent, and resist this.
---
I said to God, "I think I'm done. I want to come back." But I couldn't think of how to do that, so I called Tom.
---
The people sane in Fijian, and their harmonies reminded me of Soweto. This kind of beauty softens you and expands you, which is good, but of course it makes you vulnerable to all sorts of horrible things, like, oh, feelings. And being in your body. The harmonies are soul tenderizers. They get right in there into the fibers of your being, into the usually armored muscles and chambers, and open you up with awe."
---
It was great to be right. Really, it's the most important thing--to be right, and to know whom to blame.
---
"You are in withdrawal. You're in victim mode. And that has nothing to do with Amy. That's lifelong. You need radical self-care and acceptance."
"I feel exposed and needy and repulsive."
"Fabulous! Now we're starting to get somewhere. We can address this, and why your good ideas cannot help. Or you can stay in blame-and-rescue."
This was a rather stunning and rude view of my suffering.
---
The job of a good parent is to be dispensable. No one remembered to tell my parents that, but I know it is true.
It's not morally right to make yourself indispensable.
---
I got in bed late with the dogs and cat, and lay in the dark praying and thinking. It is a violation of trust to use your kids as caulking for the cracks in you. So I said to God, Fine, have it your way. What ev.
It's a new prayer, to add to the other two, Help me, and Thank you: What ev. I should get this tattooed on my shoulder, "Help me, thank you, what ev, and lower the bar."
---
Temporarily unable to remember what city I was in, I said, "I just want to go back to---wherever it is that I am." Then I realized that this was possibly the most brilliant thing I have ever said. All I have to do for a shot at salvation is go back to where I am, and that means wherever my feet are, not my poor old pinball head.
---
Tom said that either you learn to live with paradox and ambiguities, or you'll be six years old for the rest of your life.
Monday, May 21, 2012
Saturday, April 28, 2012
Up Until August
A book of poetry by J. Edmund Anderson. Here are a few of my favorites...
We Are Much Too Anxious
We are much too anxious, much to anxious to create,
and create only the beginning of things at that.
The flower blooms, but it soon dies,
and a place is new only when you first arrive.
Things seems new, but they have been there
long before you ever arrived.
And what of love? Is it contained in the first kiss
that comes in a movie theatre, or in a park?
The movie will end.
The park will someday be replaced
by concrete and plaster.
Still, we desire beginnings,
but desire and beginnings are not love.
They are not desirable.
They do not stay still, for they are much too anxious.
J. Edmund Anderson
5.5.94
Burrard Street Bridge
The city bus is holy,
it leads us through peculiar prayer.
Silent faces turn in awe
as we pass over Burrard Street Bridge
to give quiet praise to the Creator of the sunset
that lingers on the mountain tops,
and bathes the Sea with Light...
Baptizing this city that stands
on the shore of so much chaos.
J. Edmund Anderson
7.11.99
I am tired of reading how the sun opens its eyes,
or how the wind breathes through the pines.
These themes have run their course.
They are worn out from over-use.
I want to see people
who sell sunflower seeds on the curb,
who pawn old war medals in Gorky Park,
who sweep the dust from the dust at the bus stop
and get dirt under their fingernails.
People whose laugh is full of bad breath,
and whose tears, that never really end, give life
to what mediocre poets write about--but miss it.
The golden teeth, the smell of beer,
the wooden canes and the hands that hold them.
These things are true poetry--
not some invisible breath of trees.
J. Edmund Anderson
4.13.94
We Are Much Too Anxious
We are much too anxious, much to anxious to create,
and create only the beginning of things at that.
The flower blooms, but it soon dies,
and a place is new only when you first arrive.
Things seems new, but they have been there
long before you ever arrived.
And what of love? Is it contained in the first kiss
that comes in a movie theatre, or in a park?
The movie will end.
The park will someday be replaced
by concrete and plaster.
Still, we desire beginnings,
but desire and beginnings are not love.
They are not desirable.
They do not stay still, for they are much too anxious.
J. Edmund Anderson
5.5.94
Burrard Street Bridge
The city bus is holy,
it leads us through peculiar prayer.
Silent faces turn in awe
as we pass over Burrard Street Bridge
to give quiet praise to the Creator of the sunset
that lingers on the mountain tops,
and bathes the Sea with Light...
Baptizing this city that stands
on the shore of so much chaos.
J. Edmund Anderson
7.11.99
I am tired of reading how the sun opens its eyes,
or how the wind breathes through the pines.
These themes have run their course.
They are worn out from over-use.
I want to see people
who sell sunflower seeds on the curb,
who pawn old war medals in Gorky Park,
who sweep the dust from the dust at the bus stop
and get dirt under their fingernails.
People whose laugh is full of bad breath,
and whose tears, that never really end, give life
to what mediocre poets write about--but miss it.
The golden teeth, the smell of beer,
the wooden canes and the hands that hold them.
These things are true poetry--
not some invisible breath of trees.
J. Edmund Anderson
4.13.94
Friday, April 13, 2012
Hinds Feet on High Places
Beautiful allegory of a Christian's spiritual development and growth by Hannah Hurnard.
Some things I underlined:
---
Much-Afraid shrank back. "I am afraid," she said. "I have been told that if you really love someone you give that loved one the power to hurt and pain you in a way nothing else can."
---
Love and Pain go together, for a time at least. If you would know Love, you must know pain too.
---
It seemed so impossible to ignore the Fearings, still less to resist them. She did not dare look at the Shepherd, but had she done so she would have seen with what compassion he was regarding her.
---
Trust is one of the most beautiful things in the world.
---
"Whenever you are willing to obey me, Much-Afraid, and to follow the path of my choice, you will always be able to hear and recognize my voice, and when you hear it you must always obey. Remember also that it is always safe to obey my voice, even if it seems to call you to paths which look impossible or even crazy."
---
Therefore, though she went with Sorrow and Suffering day after day along the shores of the great sear of Loneliness, she did not go cringingly or complainingly. Indeed, gradually an impossible thing seemed to be happening. A new kind of joy was springing up in her heart, and she began to find herself noticing beauties in the landscape of which until then she had been quite unconscious.
--
It was only a short time after the building of that new altar that her enemies were all upon her again.
---
Then Resentment would raise his head over another rock. He was extremely ugly to look at, but his was a horribly fascinating ugliness.
---
"Oh Shepherd," gasped Much-Afraid, shaking with relief and hope, "thank you. Do you think Pride is really dead at last?"
"No," said the Shepherd, "it is most unlikely."
---
When you wear the weed of impatience in your heart instead of the flower Acceptance-with-Joy, you will always find your enemies get an advantage over you.
---
As you have noticed, altars are built of whatever materials lie close at hand at the time.
---
The Shepherd laughed too. "I love doing preposterous things," he replied. "Why, I don't know anything more exhilarating and delightful than turning weakness into strength, and fear into faith, and that which has been marred into perfection."
---
Indeed, as she looked she was startled to see Self-Pity (who always looked less ugly and dangerous than his companions) stoop down and pick up a sharp stone which he flung at her with all his might.
---
From bitter experience she knew that pictures thrown on the screen of her imagination could seem much more unnerving and terrible than the actual facts.
---
At last, one afternoon, when the only word which at all described her progress is to say that she was slithering along the path, all muddy and wet and bedraggled from constant slips, she decided to sing..."If I sing quite loudly," she told herself, "I shall not be able to hear what they say."
---
Then Peace (who before had been Suffering) said quietly, "I have noticed that when people are brought into sorrow and suffering, or loss or humiliation, or grief, or into some place of great need, they sometimes become ready to know the Shepherd and to seek his help."
Some things I underlined:
---
Much-Afraid shrank back. "I am afraid," she said. "I have been told that if you really love someone you give that loved one the power to hurt and pain you in a way nothing else can."
---
Love and Pain go together, for a time at least. If you would know Love, you must know pain too.
---
It seemed so impossible to ignore the Fearings, still less to resist them. She did not dare look at the Shepherd, but had she done so she would have seen with what compassion he was regarding her.
---
Trust is one of the most beautiful things in the world.
---
"Whenever you are willing to obey me, Much-Afraid, and to follow the path of my choice, you will always be able to hear and recognize my voice, and when you hear it you must always obey. Remember also that it is always safe to obey my voice, even if it seems to call you to paths which look impossible or even crazy."
---
Therefore, though she went with Sorrow and Suffering day after day along the shores of the great sear of Loneliness, she did not go cringingly or complainingly. Indeed, gradually an impossible thing seemed to be happening. A new kind of joy was springing up in her heart, and she began to find herself noticing beauties in the landscape of which until then she had been quite unconscious.
--
It was only a short time after the building of that new altar that her enemies were all upon her again.
---
Then Resentment would raise his head over another rock. He was extremely ugly to look at, but his was a horribly fascinating ugliness.
---
"Oh Shepherd," gasped Much-Afraid, shaking with relief and hope, "thank you. Do you think Pride is really dead at last?"
"No," said the Shepherd, "it is most unlikely."
---
When you wear the weed of impatience in your heart instead of the flower Acceptance-with-Joy, you will always find your enemies get an advantage over you.
---
As you have noticed, altars are built of whatever materials lie close at hand at the time.
---
The Shepherd laughed too. "I love doing preposterous things," he replied. "Why, I don't know anything more exhilarating and delightful than turning weakness into strength, and fear into faith, and that which has been marred into perfection."
---
Indeed, as she looked she was startled to see Self-Pity (who always looked less ugly and dangerous than his companions) stoop down and pick up a sharp stone which he flung at her with all his might.
---
From bitter experience she knew that pictures thrown on the screen of her imagination could seem much more unnerving and terrible than the actual facts.
---
At last, one afternoon, when the only word which at all described her progress is to say that she was slithering along the path, all muddy and wet and bedraggled from constant slips, she decided to sing..."If I sing quite loudly," she told herself, "I shall not be able to hear what they say."
---
Then Peace (who before had been Suffering) said quietly, "I have noticed that when people are brought into sorrow and suffering, or loss or humiliation, or grief, or into some place of great need, they sometimes become ready to know the Shepherd and to seek his help."
Monday, February 20, 2012
Crazy Love
This is the second time I've read this book (which is written to Christians.) I used to listen to Francis Chan's sermons via podcast while I worked, back when I worked for a paycheck. I enjoy his honest, direct approach.
Some excerpts...
---
Isn't it a comfort to worship a God we cannot exaggerate?
---
It is not scientific doubt, not atheism, not pantheism, not agnosticism, that in our day and in this land is likely to quench the light of the gospel. It is a proud, sensuous, selfish, luxurious, church-going, hollow-hearted prosperity.
---
Lukewarm people don't really believe that this new life Jesus offers is better than the old sinful one.
---
Lukewarm people say they love Jesus, and He is, indeed, a part of their lives. But only a part. They give Him a section of their time, their money, and their thoughts, but He isn't allowed to control their lives.
---
The truth is, their lives wouldn't look much different if they suddenly stopped believing in God.
---
My conclusion? Jesus' call to commitment is clear: He wants all or nothing. The thought of a person calling himself a "Christian" without being a devoted follower of Christ is absurd.
---
Mark Buchanan writes, "Physical sickness we usually defy. Soul sickness we often resign ourselves to."
---
God is not someone who can be tacked on to our lives.
---
Personal experience has taught me that actions driven by fear and guilt are not an antidote to lukewarm, selfish, comfortable living. I hope you realize instead that the answer is love.
---
George Bernard Shaw wrote, "This is true joy in life, the being used up for a purpose recognized by yourself as a mighty one; the being a force of nature instead of a feverish, selfish little clod of ailments and grievances complaining that the world will not devote itself to making you happy."
---
Back when I was in Bible college, a professor asked our class, "What are you doing right now that requires faith?" That question affected me deeply because at the time I could think of nothing in my life that required faith.
---
We are consumed by safety. Obsessed with it, actually. Now, I'm not saying it is wrong to pray for God's protection, but I am questioning how we've made safety our highest priority. We've elevated safety to the neglect of whatever God's best is, whatever would bring God the most glory, or whatever would accomplish His purposes in our lives and in the world.
---
The average Christian in the United States spends ten minutes per day with God; meanwhile, the average American spends over four hours a day watching television.
---
I wrote this book because much of our talk doesn't match our lives. We say things like, "I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me," and "Trust in the Lord with all your heart." Then we live and plan like we don't believe God even exists. We try to set our lives up so everything will be fine even if God doesn't come through.
---
I've made a commitment to consistently put myself in situations that scare me and require God to come through. When I survey my life, I realize that those times have been the most meaningful and satisfying of my life. They were the times when I truly experienced life and God.
---
We've conditioned ourselves to hear messages without responding. Sermons have become Christian entertainment. We go to church to hear a well-developed sermon and a convicting thought. We've trained ourselves to believe that if we're convicted, our job is done. If you're just hearing the Word and not actually doing something with it, you're deceiving yourself.
Some excerpts...
---
Isn't it a comfort to worship a God we cannot exaggerate?
---
It is not scientific doubt, not atheism, not pantheism, not agnosticism, that in our day and in this land is likely to quench the light of the gospel. It is a proud, sensuous, selfish, luxurious, church-going, hollow-hearted prosperity.
---
Lukewarm people don't really believe that this new life Jesus offers is better than the old sinful one.
---
Lukewarm people say they love Jesus, and He is, indeed, a part of their lives. But only a part. They give Him a section of their time, their money, and their thoughts, but He isn't allowed to control their lives.
---
The truth is, their lives wouldn't look much different if they suddenly stopped believing in God.
---
My conclusion? Jesus' call to commitment is clear: He wants all or nothing. The thought of a person calling himself a "Christian" without being a devoted follower of Christ is absurd.
---
Mark Buchanan writes, "Physical sickness we usually defy. Soul sickness we often resign ourselves to."
---
God is not someone who can be tacked on to our lives.
---
Personal experience has taught me that actions driven by fear and guilt are not an antidote to lukewarm, selfish, comfortable living. I hope you realize instead that the answer is love.
---
George Bernard Shaw wrote, "This is true joy in life, the being used up for a purpose recognized by yourself as a mighty one; the being a force of nature instead of a feverish, selfish little clod of ailments and grievances complaining that the world will not devote itself to making you happy."
---
Back when I was in Bible college, a professor asked our class, "What are you doing right now that requires faith?" That question affected me deeply because at the time I could think of nothing in my life that required faith.
---
We are consumed by safety. Obsessed with it, actually. Now, I'm not saying it is wrong to pray for God's protection, but I am questioning how we've made safety our highest priority. We've elevated safety to the neglect of whatever God's best is, whatever would bring God the most glory, or whatever would accomplish His purposes in our lives and in the world.
---
The average Christian in the United States spends ten minutes per day with God; meanwhile, the average American spends over four hours a day watching television.
---
I wrote this book because much of our talk doesn't match our lives. We say things like, "I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me," and "Trust in the Lord with all your heart." Then we live and plan like we don't believe God even exists. We try to set our lives up so everything will be fine even if God doesn't come through.
---
I've made a commitment to consistently put myself in situations that scare me and require God to come through. When I survey my life, I realize that those times have been the most meaningful and satisfying of my life. They were the times when I truly experienced life and God.
---
We've conditioned ourselves to hear messages without responding. Sermons have become Christian entertainment. We go to church to hear a well-developed sermon and a convicting thought. We've trained ourselves to believe that if we're convicted, our job is done. If you're just hearing the Word and not actually doing something with it, you're deceiving yourself.
Saturday, February 4, 2012
4,000,000
I love everything about the works of O. Henry. The Four Million is a collection of 21 of his stories having to do with New York City (population: four million, at the time.) I like NYC for many reasons; one of them being that it's where my mother and grandpa were born. My grandpa was born two decades after this book was published.
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She had a habit for saying little silent prayers about the simplest everyday things...
---
Silent, grim, colossal, the big city has ever stood against its revilers. They call it hard as iron; they say that no pulse of pity beats in its bosom; they compare its streets with lonely forests and deserts of lava. But beneath the hard crust of the lobster is found a delectable and luscious food. Perhaps a different simile would have been wiser. Still, nobody should take offense. We would call no one a lobster without good and sufficient claws.
---
A sudden fear seized Soapy that some dreadful enchantment had rendered him immune to arrest. The thought brought a little of panic upon it, and when he came upon another policeman lounging grandly in front of a transplendent theatre he caught at the immediate straw of "disorderly conduct."
---
It was a day in March.
Never, never begin a story this way when you write one. No opening could possibly be worse. It is unimaginative, flat, dry and likely to consist of mere wind. But in this instance it is allowable. For the following paragraph, which should have inaugurated the narrative, is too wildly extravagant and preposterous to be flaunted in the face of the reader without preparation.
Sarah was crying over her bill of fare.
Think of a New York girl shedding tears on the menu card!
To account for this you will be allowed to guess that the lobsters were all out, or that she had sworn ice-cream off during Lent, or that she had ordered onions, or that she had just come from a Hackett matinee. And then, all these theories being wrong, you will please let the story proceed.
---
True adventurers have never been plentiful.
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We are grown stiff with the ramrod of convention down our backs.
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He who has been denied the spectacle of a busy Manhattan broker during a rush of business is handicapped for the profession of anthropology.
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She had a habit for saying little silent prayers about the simplest everyday things...
---
Silent, grim, colossal, the big city has ever stood against its revilers. They call it hard as iron; they say that no pulse of pity beats in its bosom; they compare its streets with lonely forests and deserts of lava. But beneath the hard crust of the lobster is found a delectable and luscious food. Perhaps a different simile would have been wiser. Still, nobody should take offense. We would call no one a lobster without good and sufficient claws.
---
A sudden fear seized Soapy that some dreadful enchantment had rendered him immune to arrest. The thought brought a little of panic upon it, and when he came upon another policeman lounging grandly in front of a transplendent theatre he caught at the immediate straw of "disorderly conduct."
---
It was a day in March.
Never, never begin a story this way when you write one. No opening could possibly be worse. It is unimaginative, flat, dry and likely to consist of mere wind. But in this instance it is allowable. For the following paragraph, which should have inaugurated the narrative, is too wildly extravagant and preposterous to be flaunted in the face of the reader without preparation.
Sarah was crying over her bill of fare.
Think of a New York girl shedding tears on the menu card!
To account for this you will be allowed to guess that the lobsters were all out, or that she had sworn ice-cream off during Lent, or that she had ordered onions, or that she had just come from a Hackett matinee. And then, all these theories being wrong, you will please let the story proceed.
---
True adventurers have never been plentiful.
---
We are grown stiff with the ramrod of convention down our backs.
---
He who has been denied the spectacle of a busy Manhattan broker during a rush of business is handicapped for the profession of anthropology.
Friday, February 3, 2012
Anybody want a peanut?
Done with The Princess Bride by William Goldman. Hadn't read it before and thoroughly enjoyed it.
---
The beef-witted featherbrained rattleskulled clodpated dim-domed noodle-noggined sapheaded lunk-knobbed boys.
---
All I can suggest to you is, if the parentheses bug you, don't read them.
---
"...but I have loved you for several hours now, and every second, more .I thought an hour ago that I loved you more than any woman has ever loved a man, but a half hour after that I knew that what I felt before was nothing compared to what I felt then. But ten minutes after that, I understood that my previous love was a puddle compared to the high seas before a storm. Your eyes are like that, did you know? Well they are. How many minutes ago was I? Twenty? Had I brought my feelings up to then? It doesn't matter." - Buttercup
---
(This was long after hairdressers; in truth, ever since there have been women, there have been hairdressers, Adam being the first, though the King James scholars do their very best to muddy this point.)
---
"I understand completely what you are trying to do," the Sicilian said finally, "and I want it quite clear that I resent your behavior. You are trying to kidnap what I have rightfully stolen, and I think it quite ungentlemanly."
---
"I always think everything is a trap until proven otherwise," the Prince answered. "Which is why I'm still alive."
---
"Enough about my beauty," Buttercup said. "Everybody always talks about how beautiful I am. I've got a mind, Westley. Talk about that."
---
"But I am afraid."
"It will all be happy at the end. Consider: a little over three years ago, you were a milkmaid and I was a farm boy. Now you are almost a queen and I rule uncontested on the water. Surely, such individuals were never intended to die in a Fire Swamp."
"How can you be sure?"
"Well, because we're together, hand in hand, in love."
"Oh yes," Buttercup said. "I keep forgetting that."
---
Fezzik reached the top of the wall and started carefully climbing down the other side. "I understand everything," he said.
"You understand nothing, but it really doesn't matter, since what you mean is, you're glad to see me, just as I'm glad to see you because no more loneliness."
"That's what I mean," said Fezzik.
---
Inigo looked at him. "You mean you'll forgive me completely for saving your life if I completely forgive you for saving mine?"
"You're my friend, my only one."
"Pathetic, that's what we are," Inigo said.
"Athletic."
"That's very good," Inigo said, so Fezzik knew they were fine again.
---
"Don't pester him with so many questions," Fezzik said. "Take it easy; he's been dead."
"Right, right, sorry," Inigo said.
---
"I suppose I was dying again, so I asked the Lord of Permanent Affection for the strength to live the day. Clearly, the answer came in the affirmative."
"I didn't know there was such a Fellow," Buttercup said.
"Neither did I, in truth, but if He didn't exist, I didn't much want to either."
---
But I also have to say, for the umpty-umpth time, that life isn't fair. It's just fairer than death, that's all.
---
The beef-witted featherbrained rattleskulled clodpated dim-domed noodle-noggined sapheaded lunk-knobbed boys.
---
All I can suggest to you is, if the parentheses bug you, don't read them.
---
"...but I have loved you for several hours now, and every second, more .I thought an hour ago that I loved you more than any woman has ever loved a man, but a half hour after that I knew that what I felt before was nothing compared to what I felt then. But ten minutes after that, I understood that my previous love was a puddle compared to the high seas before a storm. Your eyes are like that, did you know? Well they are. How many minutes ago was I? Twenty? Had I brought my feelings up to then? It doesn't matter." - Buttercup
---
(This was long after hairdressers; in truth, ever since there have been women, there have been hairdressers, Adam being the first, though the King James scholars do their very best to muddy this point.)
---
"I understand completely what you are trying to do," the Sicilian said finally, "and I want it quite clear that I resent your behavior. You are trying to kidnap what I have rightfully stolen, and I think it quite ungentlemanly."
---
"I always think everything is a trap until proven otherwise," the Prince answered. "Which is why I'm still alive."
---
"Enough about my beauty," Buttercup said. "Everybody always talks about how beautiful I am. I've got a mind, Westley. Talk about that."
---
"But I am afraid."
"It will all be happy at the end. Consider: a little over three years ago, you were a milkmaid and I was a farm boy. Now you are almost a queen and I rule uncontested on the water. Surely, such individuals were never intended to die in a Fire Swamp."
"How can you be sure?"
"Well, because we're together, hand in hand, in love."
"Oh yes," Buttercup said. "I keep forgetting that."
---
Fezzik reached the top of the wall and started carefully climbing down the other side. "I understand everything," he said.
"You understand nothing, but it really doesn't matter, since what you mean is, you're glad to see me, just as I'm glad to see you because no more loneliness."
"That's what I mean," said Fezzik.
---
Inigo looked at him. "You mean you'll forgive me completely for saving your life if I completely forgive you for saving mine?"
"You're my friend, my only one."
"Pathetic, that's what we are," Inigo said.
"Athletic."
"That's very good," Inigo said, so Fezzik knew they were fine again.
---
"Don't pester him with so many questions," Fezzik said. "Take it easy; he's been dead."
"Right, right, sorry," Inigo said.
---
"I suppose I was dying again, so I asked the Lord of Permanent Affection for the strength to live the day. Clearly, the answer came in the affirmative."
"I didn't know there was such a Fellow," Buttercup said.
"Neither did I, in truth, but if He didn't exist, I didn't much want to either."
---
But I also have to say, for the umpty-umpth time, that life isn't fair. It's just fairer than death, that's all.
Saturday, January 28, 2012
Me Talk Pretty One Day
Some excerpts... most are funnier in context. My favorite part was probably when he and several classmates tried to explain what Easter means while speaking French in a French language class.
"In an effort to impress his latest parole office, Richie was trying to improve his vocabulary. 'I can't promise I'll never kill anyone again,' he once said, strapping a refrigerator to his back. 'It's unrealistic to live your life within such strict parameters.'"
"In other parts of the country people tried to stay together for the sake of the children. In New York they tried to work things out for the sake of the apartment."
"I hate computers for any number of reasons, but I despise them most for what they've done to my friend the typewriter. In a democratic country you'd think there would be room for both of them, but computers won't rest until I'm making my ribbons from torn shirts and brewing Wite-Out in my bathtub."
"Besides, if I wanted to hear people speaking wall-to-wall French, all I had to do was remove my headphones and participate in what is known as "real life," a concept as uninviting as a shampoo cocktail."
Me Talk Pretty One Day by David Sedaris
"In an effort to impress his latest parole office, Richie was trying to improve his vocabulary. 'I can't promise I'll never kill anyone again,' he once said, strapping a refrigerator to his back. 'It's unrealistic to live your life within such strict parameters.'"
"In other parts of the country people tried to stay together for the sake of the children. In New York they tried to work things out for the sake of the apartment."
"I hate computers for any number of reasons, but I despise them most for what they've done to my friend the typewriter. In a democratic country you'd think there would be room for both of them, but computers won't rest until I'm making my ribbons from torn shirts and brewing Wite-Out in my bathtub."
"Besides, if I wanted to hear people speaking wall-to-wall French, all I had to do was remove my headphones and participate in what is known as "real life," a concept as uninviting as a shampoo cocktail."
Me Talk Pretty One Day by David Sedaris
Tuesday, January 24, 2012
Dave Barry's Guide To Life
Hilarious reading that's perfect for relaxing before going to sleep. (I did start reading it last year, though.)
Sunday, January 22, 2012
Eight Cousins
I am one of 19 cousins. (Free tidbit from beck's life.)
I finished Eight Cousins by Louisa May Alcott (fascinating reading about her life and especially her influences!) last night. I honestly can't remember if I've read it before or not. It was nice. I've often wondered what it would be like to live as one of the "little women" (or, more preferably, at Jo and Father Bhaer's house in Little Men) and one of my favorite names for myself when playing pretend games with other kids was Jo. That or Sam.
Here are some of the excerpts I underlined in my Kindle:
"Aunt Myra is a ahem! an excellent woman, but it is her hobby to believe that everyone is tottering on the brink of the grave; and, upon my life, I believe she is offended if people don't fall into it!" Uncle Alec to Rose.
"A happy soul in a healthy body makes the best sort of beauty for man or woman." Uncle Alec
"Yet that is considered an excellent school, I find, and I dare say it would be if the benighted lady did not think it necessary to cram her pupils like Thanks-giving turkeys, instead of feeding them in a natural and wholesome way. It is the fault with most American schools, and the poor little heads will go on aching till we learn better." - Dr./Uncle Alec
"It is apt to be so, and it is hard to bear; for, though we do not want trumpets blown, we do like to have our little virtues appreciated, and cannot help feeling disappointed if they are not."
"Steve tore his hair, metaphorically speaking, for he clutched his cherished top-knot, and wildly disheveled it, as if that was the heaviest penance he could inflict upon himself at such short notice. Charlie laid himself out flat, melodramatically begging someone to take him away and hang him; but Archie, who felt worst of all, said nothing except to vow within himself that he would read to Mac till his own eyes were as red as a dozen emery bags combined."
"Tomboys make strong women usually, and I had far rather find Rose playing football with Mac than puttering over bead-work like that affected midget, Ariadne Blish." - Dr. Alec
"This love of money is the curse of America, and for the sake of it men will sell honor and honesty, till we don't know whom to trust, and it is only a genius like Agassiz who dares to say, 'I cannot waste my time in getting rich,'" said Mrs. Jessie sadly.
"Fathers and mothers are too absorbed in business and housekeeping to study their children, and cherish that sweet and natural confidence which is a child's surest safeguard, and a parent's subtlest power."
"Phebe...who stood all alone in the wide world, yet was not sad nor afraid, but took her bits of happiness gratefully, and sung over her work without a thought of discontent."
I finished Eight Cousins by Louisa May Alcott (fascinating reading about her life and especially her influences!) last night. I honestly can't remember if I've read it before or not. It was nice. I've often wondered what it would be like to live as one of the "little women" (or, more preferably, at Jo and Father Bhaer's house in Little Men) and one of my favorite names for myself when playing pretend games with other kids was Jo. That or Sam.
Here are some of the excerpts I underlined in my Kindle:
"Aunt Myra is a ahem! an excellent woman, but it is her hobby to believe that everyone is tottering on the brink of the grave; and, upon my life, I believe she is offended if people don't fall into it!" Uncle Alec to Rose.
"A happy soul in a healthy body makes the best sort of beauty for man or woman." Uncle Alec
"Yet that is considered an excellent school, I find, and I dare say it would be if the benighted lady did not think it necessary to cram her pupils like Thanks-giving turkeys, instead of feeding them in a natural and wholesome way. It is the fault with most American schools, and the poor little heads will go on aching till we learn better." - Dr./Uncle Alec
"It is apt to be so, and it is hard to bear; for, though we do not want trumpets blown, we do like to have our little virtues appreciated, and cannot help feeling disappointed if they are not."
"Steve tore his hair, metaphorically speaking, for he clutched his cherished top-knot, and wildly disheveled it, as if that was the heaviest penance he could inflict upon himself at such short notice. Charlie laid himself out flat, melodramatically begging someone to take him away and hang him; but Archie, who felt worst of all, said nothing except to vow within himself that he would read to Mac till his own eyes were as red as a dozen emery bags combined."
"Tomboys make strong women usually, and I had far rather find Rose playing football with Mac than puttering over bead-work like that affected midget, Ariadne Blish." - Dr. Alec
"This love of money is the curse of America, and for the sake of it men will sell honor and honesty, till we don't know whom to trust, and it is only a genius like Agassiz who dares to say, 'I cannot waste my time in getting rich,'" said Mrs. Jessie sadly.
"Fathers and mothers are too absorbed in business and housekeeping to study their children, and cherish that sweet and natural confidence which is a child's surest safeguard, and a parent's subtlest power."
"Phebe...who stood all alone in the wide world, yet was not sad nor afraid, but took her bits of happiness gratefully, and sung over her work without a thought of discontent."
Monday, January 16, 2012
Stuff White People Like
Out of the 150 things white people are said to like in this book, I liked 34 of them, which makes me 23% white.
Fun book.
Fun book.
Tuesday, January 10, 2012
Books
A few of my friends keep lists of the books they've read in a given year so I thought maybe I'd try that. We'll see how long I remember to do this. Maybe I should list old favorite books that I've gone back to read sections of, too. The list would be much, much longer.
I just finished One Thousand Gifts by Ann Voskamp.
The first several chapters deeply resonated with me. Could not stop sobbing while reading some parts. Then I put the book down for a while... and when I picked it up again I kind of had to work at getting past her writing style. Toward the end of the book it became easier to identify with her again.
I appreciate her words and have incorporated many of the things she describes into my life - capturing moments (I bought a Canon Elph) and giving thanks (I started a gratitude journal, back in September, when I first began reading her book.) I'm up to 118 things; my latest entries were from three days ago. It's been an interesting exercise, to be thankful, or to find something to be thankful for, in everything that comes... minutes, days, weeks.
I just finished One Thousand Gifts by Ann Voskamp.
The first several chapters deeply resonated with me. Could not stop sobbing while reading some parts. Then I put the book down for a while... and when I picked it up again I kind of had to work at getting past her writing style. Toward the end of the book it became easier to identify with her again.
I appreciate her words and have incorporated many of the things she describes into my life - capturing moments (I bought a Canon Elph) and giving thanks (I started a gratitude journal, back in September, when I first began reading her book.) I'm up to 118 things; my latest entries were from three days ago. It's been an interesting exercise, to be thankful, or to find something to be thankful for, in everything that comes... minutes, days, weeks.
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