Okay, That Was Weird

Ever had one of those experiences where you just stop, raise your eyebrows in a sorta funny way, and think, "Okay, that was weird!" Had myself one of those just the other day. So, I was sitting there in the living room watching a very old black and white movie . . . and suddenly this Thing comes from absolutely nowhere, zips straight through the living room, and starts turning our dining room into a carosel-after-one-too-many-spoonfuls-of-sugar ride. This Thing tries a few rather wobbly circles right next to the ceiling, swoops down for another quick peek into the living room, then goes back to its carosel. It was a bat! In our house! Our nice, sort of modern, 20th century at least American house! How he got in, I'll never know. But he sure did have fun on that carosel ride. First, I screamed, which I think is what any self-respecting American girl would do. Then I ran for my camera and adroitly snapped several pictures (easier said than done when you're also diving for cover every time the Thing threatens to jump off his carosel and tackle you), which is what any self-respecting photographer would do. Finally stashing my prized picture taker in a relatively safe location, I turned to thoughts like, "Save the whales!" and talked my dad, who was trying to swat the Thing down with a broom, into shooing him out the door instead. Again, easier said than done. But in the end, the Thing, for better or worse, was saved...I got my rare and thrilling photographs...and now you get to read the story of it too! Not a bad way to spend an evening if you ask me.


The Thing



The Thing As Seen From the Eyes of My Rather Overactive Imagination (Dark, Vague, Sinister, and All That)

An Unexpected Lesson

Just two weeks ago, I got myself a job. Working at a place with horses, which I love. Cleaning out stalls, which I love . . . a little less, you might say. Eleven hours a day. Three days a week. But let me tell you, those three days have given me a whole new perspective on the meaning of words like “tired,” “slave,” and, “Ew!”

In the evenings, when my groaning muscles are finally allowed to rest, I’ve taken to reading Jack London’s book, The Sea Wolf. If you’ve read it, you’re probably laughing right now. If you haven’t, well, let’s say it’s not the most light-hearted of stories. The general gist of the tale begins with a rather wimpy American gentlemen finding himself adrift in fog after a shipwreck and getting rescued by none other than the most heartlessly captained seal hunting ship in all the seven seas. Our rather unfortunate gentlemen does not even know how to swim and finds himself without much of a choice other than working for several months on this boat. I’ve found it a bit ironic, reading the descriptions in the book of physical exhaustion, hard labor, and the like, then comparing them with my own experiences at my job. One night I found myself literally unable to lift even a finger without my entire body screaming in protest.

But God taught me something quite unexpected in the midst of all this. He taught me about sensitivity. One notable conversation in The Sea Wolf between our sad American and the fiercely powerful captain runs as follows:

“And you are also,” I (the American) continued, “a man one could not trust in the least thing where it was possible for a selfish interest to intervene?”
“Now you’re beginning to understand,” he (the captain) said, brightening.
“You are a man utterly without what the world calls morals?”
“That’s it.”
“A man of whom to be always afraid-”
“That’s the way to put it.”
“As one is afraid of a snake, or a tiger, or a shark?”
“Now you know me,” he said. “And you know me as I am generally known. Other men call me Wolf.”

Two things struck me in this. One, that this Wolf character held such indisputable power over all those on the ship. In both physical strength and mental intellect, no one could stand up against him. He regarded them with the same detached curiosity with which scientists regard mice in a lab. In this way, the captain’s power reminded me of the power of God.

The second point was what shocked me. For in comparing the character Wolf with the God I know, I was also obliged to contrast them. And while I found the untouchable nature of their strength to be alike, I found their characters wholly different. While Wolf used his power as a rod with which to distance himself from weaker humanity, the God I know uses His strength for just the opposite purpose. In the power of His glory and the potency of His might, God does not draw away. Instead, He chooses to draw near and woo us closer to Him. He uses the strength of His arms to shield us. He uses the mightiness of His name to build a protecting hedge around us. He uses the almighty nature of His character to encircle us with His presence. I’d never thought of the word “sensitive” in terms of God before. But what word could better fit to describe this God Who, in all His raw, irrefutable power, yet delights in singing over us . . . in carrying us in His arms . . . in leading us Home.

All this from shoveling horse manure and reading a book.

The Simple Things in Life

Sometimes the deepest things in life can't be said in words. Or you write a really long poem, or maybe even a whole book, but when you get to the end, you still haven't said all it is exactly that you're meaning. That's why I decided not to say much in this blog. Instead, I've posted a few pictures that I've taken recently. Perhaps they'll speak where words fail. Enjoy!