This link is really neat. It is in the continued tradition of this blog's dedication to modesty.
Sunday, January 31, 2010
Thursday, January 28, 2010
Um, so I haven't written on this blog for over a month. That is most definitely a problem. :)
Lately I've found myself irritated and annoyed with certain people at school. I've really never dealt with this before. I've always loved anyone and everyone without any hesitation. Sometimes I think God wants to show me that it truly is His grace that allows me to be compassionate, loving, and joyful. There have been so many times over these past few months when Jesus has showed me how I am without His constant grace. And let me tell you, it's bad. It's amazing to see how someone can be so extremely different without Jesus there to be a guide. He really just amazes me. Why does He choose to be so good and faithful to the most awful and unfaithful people? Why is He always there waiting with arms wide open after I've abandoned Him for months? He doesn't scold, He just embraces me tenderly and says to keep trying. He is such an amazing lover, but most days I don't even realize it.
I'm now headed off to chemistry class. Ahem, I hate that class with a passion. It's...well, simply horrible. :)
Lately I've found myself irritated and annoyed with certain people at school. I've really never dealt with this before. I've always loved anyone and everyone without any hesitation. Sometimes I think God wants to show me that it truly is His grace that allows me to be compassionate, loving, and joyful. There have been so many times over these past few months when Jesus has showed me how I am without His constant grace. And let me tell you, it's bad. It's amazing to see how someone can be so extremely different without Jesus there to be a guide. He really just amazes me. Why does He choose to be so good and faithful to the most awful and unfaithful people? Why is He always there waiting with arms wide open after I've abandoned Him for months? He doesn't scold, He just embraces me tenderly and says to keep trying. He is such an amazing lover, but most days I don't even realize it.
I'm now headed off to chemistry class. Ahem, I hate that class with a passion. It's...well, simply horrible. :)
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
When God Closes a Door
Unless the LORD builds the house,
those who build it labor in vain.
Unless the LORD watches over the city,
the watchman stays awake in vain.
It is in vain that you rise up early and go late to rest,
eating the bread of anxious toil;
for he gives to his beloved sleep.
(Psalm 127:1-2)
those who build it labor in vain.
Unless the LORD watches over the city,
the watchman stays awake in vain.
It is in vain that you rise up early and go late to rest,
eating the bread of anxious toil;
for he gives to his beloved sleep.
(Psalm 127:1-2)
As any of us can attest, life can be an extremely stressful experience. College is no exception. So, when I came across Psalm 127 while studying for theology class, I couldn't help but wryly smile at the ways in which God chooses to speak to us. I certainly wasn't looking for a message from God, yet it still spoke to me in a unique way. This second semester has been rather rough for me in some ways, and it was an unexpected reminder of God's Divine Providence to read this passage of scripture.
I certainly have risen early, gone late to rest, and eaten the anxious bread of toil during my first year of college. Most days, God seems so remote that it is difficult to believe that even the smallest of circumstances come from His loving hand. Certainly, just looking back over the past few weeks, nothing special or extraordinary stands out; those weeks were just a series of ordinary, regular, often frustrating moments. How could the almighty God speak through such mundane and unpleasant messengers? And yet He does.
God may not speak to me via angel, earthquake, or burning bush, but each and every event of my tangled life points toward some greater reality. Unless the Lord builds, how can anything stand? Surely, if God took the care to bring me into this world, He will not leave me without a few directions on how to reach the final destination. Who am I to deny that God sends those directions through the most unexpected ways?
I certainly have risen early, gone late to rest, and eaten the anxious bread of toil during my first year of college. Most days, God seems so remote that it is difficult to believe that even the smallest of circumstances come from His loving hand. Certainly, just looking back over the past few weeks, nothing special or extraordinary stands out; those weeks were just a series of ordinary, regular, often frustrating moments. How could the almighty God speak through such mundane and unpleasant messengers? And yet He does.
God may not speak to me via angel, earthquake, or burning bush, but each and every event of my tangled life points toward some greater reality. Unless the Lord builds, how can anything stand? Surely, if God took the care to bring me into this world, He will not leave me without a few directions on how to reach the final destination. Who am I to deny that God sends those directions through the most unexpected ways?
For the Bookworms
As most of us are here avid bookworms, I thought that I'd share these free bookplates that I found via wide open spaces (a lovely blog, by the way). What better way to proclaim your ownership of the best that literature has to offer?
From Martha Stewart:
From Blah Blah Blahg:
More bookplates can be found here.
From Martha Stewart:
From Blah Blah Blahg:
More bookplates can be found here.
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
Emma
"Silly things do cease to be silly if they are done by sensible people in an impudent way."---Emma WoodhouseEmma is airing on PBS. It's utterly magnificent. Here is a most thouroughly diverting quiz to pique your interest. :)
"Then let us walk about and quiz people. Come along with me, and I will show you the four greatest quizzers in the room; my two younger sisters and their partners. I have been laughing at them this half hour." Northanger Abbey, Chpt. VIII
'That is the case with us all, papa. One half of the world cannot understand the pleasures of the other.'" --Emma, Chapter IXMonday, January 25, 2010
The Church is Christ's Bride
Fr. Schmidt said something similar to this too. On the cross, Christ gave birth to the Church when the soldier pierced His Side. This was like when Eve was made from the side of Adam.
Saturday, January 23, 2010
Hello,
Obviously this is true. However, it is only funny when you aren't actually experiencing it.
Don't know about you, but I've walked out of a bathroom with a purse around my neck.
Visiting a Public Restroom
When you have to visit a public bathroom, you usually find a line of women, so you smile politely and take your place.
Once it's your turn, you check for feet under the stall doors. Every stall is occupied.
Finally, a door opens and you dash in, nearly knocking down the woman leaving the stall.
You get in to find the door won't latch. It doesn't matter, the wait has been so long you are about to wet your pants!
The dispenser for the modern "seat covers"(invented by someone's Mom, no doubt) is handy, but empty.
You would hang your purse on the door hook, if there was one, but there isn't - so you carefully, but quickly drape it around your neck, (Mom would turn over in her grave if you put it on the FLOOR!), yank down your pants, and assume " The Stance."
In this position your aging, toneless (God I should have gone to the gym!!!) thigh muscles begin to shake.
You'd love to sit down, but you certainly hadn't taken time to wipe the seat or lay toilet paper on it, so you hold "The Stance".
To take your mind off your trembling thighs, you reach for what you discover to be the empty toilet paper dispenser. In your mind, you can hear your mother's voice saying, "Honey, if you had tried to clean the seat, you would have KNOWN there was no toilet paper!" Your thighs shake more.
You remember the tiny tissue that you blew your nose on yesterday - the one that's still in your purse. (Oh yeah, the purse around your neck, that now, you have to hold up trying not to strangle yourself at the same time). That will have to do. You crumple it in the puffiest way possible. It's still smallerthan your thumbnail.
Someone pushes your door open because the latch doesn't work.
The door hits your purse, which is hanging around your neck, and you and your purse topple backward against the tank of the toilet.
"Occupied!" you scream, as you reach for the door, dropping your precious, tiny, crumpled tissue in a puddle on the floor, lose your footing altogether, and slide down directly onto the TOILET SEAT.
It is wet of course.
You bolt up, knowing all too well that it's too late. Your bare bottom has made contact with every imaginable germ and life form on the uncovered seat because YOU never laid down toilet paper - not that there was any, even if you had taken time to try.
You know that your mother would be utterly appalled if she knew, because, you're certain her bare bottom never touched a public toilet seat because, frankly, dear, "You just don't KNOW what kind of diseases you could get".
By this time, the automatic sensor on the back of the toilet is so confused that it flushes, propelling a stream of water like a fire hose against the inside of the bowl that sprays a fine mist of water that covers your butt and runs down your legs and into your shoes.
The flush somehow sucks everything down with such force that you grab onto the empty toilet paper dispenser for fear of being dragged in too
You can't figure out how to operate the faucets with the automatic sensors, .....so you wipe your hands with spit and a dry paper towel and walk past the line of women still waiting.
You are no longer able to smile politely to them.
A kind soul at the very end of the line points out a piece of toilet paper trailing from your shoe. (Where was that when you NEEDED it??) You yank the paper from your shoe, plunk it in the woman's hand and tell her warmly, "Here, you just might need this".
As you exit, you spot your hubby, who has long since entered, used, and left the men's restroom.
Annoyed, he asks, "What took you so long, and why is your purse hanging around your neck?" ..................
This is dedicated to women everywhere who deal with a public restrooms (rest??? you've GOT to be kidding!!). It finally explains to the men what really does take us so long. It also answers their other commonly asked questions about why women go to the restroom in pairs. It's so the other gal can hold the door, hang onto your purse, and hand you Kleenex under the door!
When you have to visit a public bathroom, you usually find a line of women, so you smile politely and take your place.
Once it's your turn, you check for feet under the stall doors. Every stall is occupied.
Finally, a door opens and you dash in, nearly knocking down the woman leaving the stall.
You get in to find the door won't latch. It doesn't matter, the wait has been so long you are about to wet your pants!
The dispenser for the modern "seat covers"(invented by someone's Mom, no doubt) is handy, but empty.
You would hang your purse on the door hook, if there was one, but there isn't - so you carefully, but quickly drape it around your neck, (Mom would turn over in her grave if you put it on the FLOOR!), yank down your pants, and assume " The Stance."
In this position your aging, toneless (God I should have gone to the gym!!!) thigh muscles begin to shake.
You'd love to sit down, but you certainly hadn't taken time to wipe the seat or lay toilet paper on it, so you hold "The Stance".
To take your mind off your trembling thighs, you reach for what you discover to be the empty toilet paper dispenser. In your mind, you can hear your mother's voice saying, "Honey, if you had tried to clean the seat, you would have KNOWN there was no toilet paper!" Your thighs shake more.
You remember the tiny tissue that you blew your nose on yesterday - the one that's still in your purse. (Oh yeah, the purse around your neck, that now, you have to hold up trying not to strangle yourself at the same time). That will have to do. You crumple it in the puffiest way possible. It's still smallerthan your thumbnail.
Someone pushes your door open because the latch doesn't work.
The door hits your purse, which is hanging around your neck, and you and your purse topple backward against the tank of the toilet.
"Occupied!" you scream, as you reach for the door, dropping your precious, tiny, crumpled tissue in a puddle on the floor, lose your footing altogether, and slide down directly onto the TOILET SEAT.
It is wet of course.
You bolt up, knowing all too well that it's too late. Your bare bottom has made contact with every imaginable germ and life form on the uncovered seat because YOU never laid down toilet paper - not that there was any, even if you had taken time to try.
You know that your mother would be utterly appalled if she knew, because, you're certain her bare bottom never touched a public toilet seat because, frankly, dear, "You just don't KNOW what kind of diseases you could get".
By this time, the automatic sensor on the back of the toilet is so confused that it flushes, propelling a stream of water like a fire hose against the inside of the bowl that sprays a fine mist of water that covers your butt and runs down your legs and into your shoes.
The flush somehow sucks everything down with such force that you grab onto the empty toilet paper dispenser for fear of being dragged in too
At this point, you give up. You're soaked by the spewing water and the wet toilet seat.
You're e-x-h-a-u-s-t-e-d.
You try to wipe with a gum wrapper you found in your pocket and then slink out inconspicuously to the sinks.
You can't figure out how to operate the faucets with the automatic sensors, .....so you wipe your hands with spit and a dry paper towel and walk past the line of women still waiting.
You are no longer able to smile politely to them.
A kind soul at the very end of the line points out a piece of toilet paper trailing from your shoe. (Where was that when you NEEDED it??) You yank the paper from your shoe, plunk it in the woman's hand and tell her warmly, "Here, you just might need this".
As you exit, you spot your hubby, who has long since entered, used, and left the men's restroom.
Annoyed, he asks, "What took you so long, and why is your purse hanging around your neck?" ..................
This is dedicated to women everywhere who deal with a public restrooms (rest??? you've GOT to be kidding!!). It finally explains to the men what really does take us so long. It also answers their other commonly asked questions about why women go to the restroom in pairs. It's so the other gal can hold the door, hang onto your purse, and hand you Kleenex under the door!
Thursday, January 21, 2010
A Dim Dream...
Theology, while saying that a special illumination has been vouchsafed to Christians and (earlier) to Jews, also says that there is some divine illumination vouchsafed to all men. The Divine light, we are told, "lighteneth every man." We should, therefore, expect to find in the imagination of great Pagan teachers and myth makers some glimpse of that theme which we believe to be the very plot of the whole cosmic story-the theme of incarnation, death, and rebirth. And the differences between the Pagan Christs (Balder, Osiris, etc.) and the Christ Himself is much what we should expect to find.
The Pagan stories are all about someone dying and rising, either every year or else nobody knows where and nobody knows when. The Christian story is about a historical personage, whose execution can be dated pretty accurately, under a named Roman magistrate, and with whom the society He founded is in a continuous relation down to the present day. It is not the difference between falsehood and truth. It is the difference between a real event on the one hand and dim dreams or premonitions of that same event on the other. It is like watching something come gradually into focus; first it hangs in the clouds of myth and ritual, vast and vague, then it condenses, grows hard and in a sense small, as a historical event in first century Palestine. ---- C.S. Lewis, from "Is Theology Poetry", and essay from The Weight of Glory.
P.S.
Coming Soon from Desi and Portia:
Pan's Labyrinth and
Miss Pettigrew Lives for a Day reviews!
The Pagan stories are all about someone dying and rising, either every year or else nobody knows where and nobody knows when. The Christian story is about a historical personage, whose execution can be dated pretty accurately, under a named Roman magistrate, and with whom the society He founded is in a continuous relation down to the present day. It is not the difference between falsehood and truth. It is the difference between a real event on the one hand and dim dreams or premonitions of that same event on the other. It is like watching something come gradually into focus; first it hangs in the clouds of myth and ritual, vast and vague, then it condenses, grows hard and in a sense small, as a historical event in first century Palestine. ---- C.S. Lewis, from "Is Theology Poetry", and essay from The Weight of Glory.
P.S.
Coming Soon from Desi and Portia:
Pan's Labyrinth and
Miss Pettigrew Lives for a Day reviews!
“Don’t ask what the world needs. Ask what makes you come alive, and go do it. Because what the world needs is people who have come alive.” Howard Thurman
The March for Life will be held tomorrow to commemorate the horrible decision of Roe v. Wade.
I'm righting a paper for school on how Roe v. Wade actually was legally incorrect(It will be posted..
eventually). In other words, it was not just morally wrong, it actually ignored legal history and the history of abortion in general.
Here is a link for all of us who can't be in Washington D.C. tomorrow:
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