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“They”

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We live in a society driven by the concept of “they.” When a problem arises, it’s “their” fault. When disagreements occur, “they” are wrong. When we feel insecure, “they” are oppressive. When we don’t get what we want, “they” are selfish. When dangers appear, “they” cause them.

Certainly there is fixed right and wrong, good and bad, so “they” seems to most a given separation. The problem with “they” is a deep desire for control born just after the beginning of time. “They” must believe what I believe, make me feel safe, give me what I want, do the same things I do, like the same things I like. If “they” are different from me in any way “they” must be immoral and immorality must be eliminated. “They” can’t have choices if “they” choose differently than I do.

God, the Creator of all things, gave us the ability to make choices. He also made each of us unique. That same Creator called for unity among His people, but that unity wasn’t to come from within ourselves. Because of His design, unity from ourselves is impossible.

At the beginning of time, when His children still had intimate connection with His spiritual realm, He imposed only one law: don’t eat from that tree. It wasn’t imposed to control His children; it existed to remind them to trust Him, to appreciate His love and provision. During the years following their failure of trust, His inspired writers recorded no laws set for humanity. Rather, those who longed for the intimacy that had been broken were rewarded by direct communication with Him, and sincere efforts at humility and commitment were accepted with great love.

Eventually, God set His people up as a physical nation, a country with physical boundaries. For them He set a system of laws, a structure. Most of those laws protected innocent life and property, and provided for the health and prosperity of the people. Although it was intended to be a theocracy, laws were even provided to govern the behavior and power of a king, because God knew humans would not be able to hold onto the idea of a King they could not see. The provisions made for worship rituals were not laws in the way we think of laws; they were instructions, provisions for the people to be able to approach a King who was beyond their reach. Indeed, all of the laws given on Sinai were for the purpose of education, a means of demonstrating the character of God for imitation by His people.

Throughout the history of that physical nation God continually spoke with grief of how its citizens misunderstood and mistreated that law. Instead of learning its deep principles of character, they treated it as arbitrary and inconvenient, even when they outwardly followed it. At times they even weaponized it against each other and against non-citizens of that nation, adding specifics and ignoring depth in order to gain power for themselves. When God Himself came in human form He broke the human misinterpretation of His law often, repeatedly emphasizing the lessons it was supposed to have taught. Then He performed the self-sacrifice that had always been the intended end of the physical country and its system of laws.

That sacrifice reinstated the intimate connection enjoyed in the beginning. It tore the curtain between the physical and the spiritual, allowing anyone willing to see the truth to participate in the spiritual while bound to the physical world. Such faithful individuals became citizens of a spiritual nation, a nation that exists as part of God Himself and therefore above the need for physical boundaries and laws. It simply is what it is, and it’s citizens are purified by it.

Sadly, the concept of “they” pervades the human organization perceived as the nation of God. Just like the citizens of the physical country, people today desire control, our own idea of order. Like children, and with a similar lack of experience, we organize a fictional world that makes us comfortable and assume that God agrees with us. Then, in our mistaken fervor, we weaponize our construction against “they,” and weep in confusion and frustration when our weapons backfire.

God addressed the concept of “they” throughout scripture. From that first breach in relationship, He told humans that one day He would restore it for any who wanted it. For the hundreds of years of the physical country He established, He told them over and over that His purpose was to restore true unity of purpose between Him and all of His creation. Even after He had torn the veil, He had to remind confused humanity that in His nation “they” does not exist. He is the unity, and all those who seek Him honestly and long to be a part of His character become citizens of His spiritual nation. These individuals reflect His perfection, the immutable Law of good without need of laws or rules. It is beyond our human understanding, a nation built on complete trust in Him and complete surrender of our own childish worlds.

When we surrender and step into that unity, we begin to understand the love God has for humanity. His children have never been “they,” an enemy to be destroyed. The only enemy is evil, the confusion that Satan seeds in us to pull us away from God and from each other. “They” is simply anyone who succumbs to confusion and forgets Him. “They” could quite easily be “me.”

Blessed

“Blessed are those who are persecuted because of righteousness, for the kingdom of heaven is theirs. You are blessed when they insult you and persecute you and falsely say every kind of evil against you because of me. Be glad and rejoice, because your reward is great in heaven.” Matthew 5:10-12

Being an outcast is not generally a situation we humans consider enjoyable. No one enjoys being insulted, assaulted, or ostracized. We consider a life at risk or taken to be a tragedy. God designed us with a strong desire to connect with each other and to protect human life at all costs. Because of this, we tend to have difficulty applying the above verses. What could possibly make being ostracized something to be celebrated? If we are designed with the need for each other, why would we be told the opposite made us so blessed as to be envied?

The answer lies in previously mentioned blessings: humility, mercy, purity, hunger for truth, the ability to grieve, and selflessness. All of these blessings are characteristics that bind us to one another, lead us to pursue what is best for each other. They are qualities that lead to action no matter the cost, which fact leads us to another blessed character trait, that of peacemaker.

The world tries to, and far too often succeeds in, convincing us that peace can only exist in the absence of conviction, that it is only gained by giving each other exactly what we want when we want it. The problem is that there is no such thing as absence of conviction. Selfishness is the conviction that I am more important than anyone else, and is the source of such confused behavior. Peace can never be achieved by promoting selfishness; though some goodhearted souls may destroy themselves by trying to be all things to all men, those with conviction of their own importance will never submit to anyone else’s desires. They will end in conflict with other equally selfish individual, and no one will actually be satisfied.

Humility, mercy, purity, hunger for truth, the ability to grieve, and selflessness are also conviction, but not in self. They are conviction that we have a Source, a purpose greater than any human desire, a mission to convict others of the same. This conviction of and reliance on the Source of all we are and have eliminates the desire for validation of self. It quiets the commotion the world seeks to create within us by focusing us on the Source of truth. It leads us to seek to create that same quiet focus, that peace, within other individuals.

We can all understand the blessing of such inner peace; the entire world seeks after it even if they misunderstand how to get it. But what does being a peacemaker have to do with persecution? The peacemaker, the holder of conviction in greater than self, doesn’t cater to human desires, their own or anyone else’s. Those with conviction of their own self-importance cannot comprehend that kind of strength. They live in fear and misery because they can never actually get everything that they want and thus will never possess the security to not care how others react to them.

The peacemaker, knowing this, accepts personal tragedy as unimportant. The peacemaker knows that only the Source of humanity holds what is best for humanity, that nothing treasured by the selfish can bring true security, that no attack from the selfish can break the quiet of truth. They rejoice, not because they suffer, but because they are unbroken. They rejoice in the conviction that the blessing is so much greater than the suffering. They rejoice because they have eternal peace.

Godly Emotion

Very often in the circles labeling themselves as Christian we find evidence of the idea that emotions have nothing to do our walk with God. It may be expressed as the noble sentiment that our actions should be ruled by reason, which is true but only to a point. The human brain is an incredibly complex organ, created with the capacity for both reason and emotion, so what is the godly view of emotion?

Think of a newborn infant. No longer automatically receiving sustenance through the bloodstream, it’s body experiences need for the first time. Physical discomfort awakens fear and sadness expressed by crying. When the baby is fed the need is filled, awakening happiness and contentment. No longer surrounded by warm, quiet darkness, the baby experiences cold and light for the first time, those discomforts awakening loneliness and anger. When the baby is snuggled in its mother’s arms it is warmed and sheltered, awakening love. As the child grows, those emotions will become tools for teaching reason and relationship. When the early needs of a child are not properly met, only certain emotions are awakened, and the child’s reasoning will be lacking some of the tools needed to form a complete picture of the world.

God created the human mind to develop in this way, to exhibit both emotion and reason, to require both. So what role does emotion play in the life of a person who bears God’s name? What do the scriptures have to offer about feelings?

Deuteronomy 16:15 (CSB): You are to hold a seven-day festival for the Lord your God in the place he chooses, because the Lord your God will bless you in all your produce and in all the work of your hands, and you will have abundant joy.

Galatians 5:22 (CSB): 22 But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness,

Nehemiah 2:3 (CSB): and replied to the king, “May the king live forever! Why should I not be sad when the city where my ancestors are buried lies in ruins and its gates have been destroyed by fire?”

Ezra 10:1 (CSB): While Ezra prayed and confessed, weeping and falling facedown before the house of God, an extremely large assembly of Israelite men, women, and children gathered around him. The people also wept bitterly.

Ecclesiastes 3:3–4, 8 (CSB): 4 a time to weep and a time to laugh;
a time to mourn and a time to dance; a time to love and a time to hate;

John 11:33–35 (CSB): When Jesus saw her crying, and the Jews who had come with her crying, he was deeply moved in his spirit and troubled.
34 “Where have you put him?” he asked.
“Lord,” they told him, “come and see.”
35 Jesus wept.

Numbers 12:9 (CSB): The Lord’s anger burned against them, and he left.

Ephesians 4:26 (CSB): Be angry and do not sin., Don’t let the sun go down on your anger,

1 Kings 3:25–26 (CSB): 26 The woman whose son was alive spoke to the king because she felt great compassion, for her son. “My lord, give her the living baby,” she said, “but please don’t have him killed!”

Colossians 3:12, 14-16 (CSB): Therefore, as God’s chosen ones, holy and dearly loved, put on compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness, and patience,… Above all, put on love, which is the perfect bond of unity. And let the peace of Christ, to which you were also called in one body, rule your hearts. And be thankful. Let the word of Christ dwell richly among you, in all wisdom teaching and admonishing one another through psalms, hymns, and spiritual songs, singing to God with gratitude in your hearts.

The above scriptures hold just a handful of examples of emotion playing a central role both for God and for His people. One could even say that emotion is the driving force behind God’s interaction with, even His creation of, His children. His love for us, the deepest emotion we recognize as humans, is the source of our being and our salvation. What emotion do we offer in return?

The Story

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Priscilla prided herself on telling a good story. When Elouise pouted because Ms. Charlotte, the governess, made her rewrite her dictation for poor handwriting, she whispered funny stories about monkeys or kittens who misbehaved. When history lessons were just too boring, she embellished the lives of generals and queens with fanciful romances or tragic mishaps. But the story she told to punish Ms. Charlotte for keeping her in the schoolroom instead of taking her to the town festival changed everything.

It was just the old woman who lived in a shoe, with a Priscilla style twist to scare the timid governess. She was just as surprised as anyone when the impossible shoe appeared in the middle of the schoolroom, along with a mossy, misty forest. Ms. Charlotte was nowhere to be seen, but Elouise huddled close to Priscilla, her eyes wide. Priscilla stamped her foot, hiding her own confusion under mock impatience.

Before she could say anything, Ms. Charlotte stepped from behind the shoe house, but something about her was not quite right. Her walk was just a little stiff, her parasol just a little too upright. And Ms. Charlotte’s hair would never be that messy. As the woman’s mouth opened, the girls heard a whirring sound, then a click as the head cocked to one side. “Who – visits – the – shoe?” The voice was harsh, almost as if someone could make words by tapping on tin. “Girls. We – must – have – girls.”

Priscilla heard a grinding sound as the woman jerked closer, and the front of the dress slid open. Elouise screamed through her own fingers pressed tightly over her mouth, and Priscilla’s heart pounded as metal arms unfolded and reached for her. Tinny, emotionless laughter filled her ears. “The – story – teller – sets – us – free.”

Crow

Brent chortled into the mask. This was gonna be the best prank ever. Forget trick-or-treating, that was stupid kid stuff. He was gonna scare the pants off some partiers in the park tonight. He just needed to find the perfect spot.

He ducked under a vine that hung over the entrance to an old footpath. It obviously hadn’t been used in some time; the parks department must have decided it wasn’t worth maintaining. It would be perfect. He slipped the crow mask over his head and ducked behind a nearby tree. Just enough cover to keep him hidden until drunk party goers walked right up on him. Grinning in satisfaction, he turned around to lean against the trunk and wait.

Behind him on the trail stood another guy in the same mask. Brent jumped, then groaned. “Oh, come on, man! This is my prank! Find another crowd to get your kicks off of, will you?” The other masked figure stood motionless and silent, staring at Brent with arms behind his thin frame. Brent fidgeted. “Hey, that’s an awesome costume. You really know how to get in character, don’t you?”

The beak clicked lightly, setting the black feathers above it trembling. Brent suddenly realized that his own had been tickling him for several minutes as they blew in the breeze, but the other guy’s feathers hadn’t moved at all until that moment. He cleared his throat, darting glances back down the main path, hoping for some early revellers, some lost trick-or-treaters, anything. The beak clicked again, then opened into a black maw. Brent’s scream was lost in the croaking rasp of the crow.

Scorched

It had been a week since Grims and I had sealed ourselves into the storm shelter. Fortunately for us Grims was a bit of a prepper. There had been enough food stored in there that we didn’t starve, although the composting toilet left much to be desired. In fact, as soon as Grims said we could check the surface I carried that thing out and dumped it. I didn’t even care what was waiting out there.

Now that essential task was complete, we had to figure out what to do next. If I didn’t know for a fact that we had been stuck in a hole for the past seven days, I wouldn’t have known where we were. The house was gone, not even charcoal left to mark where it had stood. The air was thick and gray with stale smoke, gusts of wind lifting dust devils of choking ash from the unrecognizable ground. Grims’ orchards were nothing but twisted stumps, stark against the smudged sunlight weakly fading through the smoky cover.

I coughed and covered my nose with my now smelly t-shirt. Grims grunted in displeasure at my exposed midriff, but I didn’t see the point. From the looks of things no one was going to be around to see it. I wondered how many of the neighboring farmers had made it to shelter in time. Maybe they were better off if they hadn’t. On the bright side, there wasn’t anything left for the beasts to come back for. We’d die from starvation instead of fire. Or maybe from suffocation; the inside of my shirt was as bad as the air outside.

The School Closet

Homeschooling is such a fluid undertaking. Unlike in a traditional classroom, where teachers repeat roughly the same lesson plans and teach the same skills year after year, homeschooling goalposts shift constantly as children develop and learn. Although some families maintain special “schoolrooms,” most of us don’t have the space in our homes for such a thing, and with the deeper understanding of our children’s learning styles that comes from the time we are able to spend with them, many families like mine would find that confining learning to a single room would be difficult.

Instead, our homes fill up with random collections of paper, art tools, science kits, memory tools, and of course books. Where others cover their walls with carefully chosen decor, ours are hidden behind bookshelves and child-made art. The household linens share space in the hall closet with school supplies.

The bookshelf situation will be a project for another day, but today our school closet got a makeover. With middle school approaching and STEAM taking over the house, the supplies needed to be updated and reorganized. Paper needs are hovering in a weird transition between construction paper and graph paper. Crayons and markers grudgingly yield space to colored pencils and paintbrushes. Coloring books were purged to make way for an entirely new category of supplies, a box full of microscope, chemistry, and magnets.

And yes, we count board games as school. Don’t you?

Book Review: Hattie and the Wild Waves

Hattie loves to make pictures. While her brother and sister play cards with the maids and torment the nannies, Hattie draws. While the family mixes with society at the seashore, Hattie walks the beaches alone and paints. While her sister gets married and her brother becomes a businessman, Hattie paints.

Hattie can’t play beautiful music on the piano like Mama. She can’t sew beautiful needlework like her sister. Even her hair won’t curl properly. But she can draw barges that Papa says are seaworthy, and she can paint the wild waves.

Hattie is every child with a dream. As readers walk Hattie’s journey with her and her family, they will unconsciously learn lessons of self-awareness, hard work, and never giving up. Although set in the early twentieth century, the appeal of this story is timeless and it’s message always relevant.

Memories

My youngest turned five this week. It’s an odd feeling to realize my last baby is now officially school-age. I thought about trying to throw a big bash to mark such a momentous occasion, but with all the fullness of life we have going on right now that just wasn’t gong to happen. Fortunately she had other ideas.

Birthday traditions in our family are pretty simple. At first it was a matter of being newly married and poor, then having small children and poor. But then it became something so powerful and precious that we could not change it. At first it was a box mix cake decorated the best this unartistic mama could manage in the birthday kid’s favorite theme of the year. Five dollars worth of tablecloth and paper plates to match the cake. Family only. As the kids got older they started wanting to help with the cake, and the tradition evolved into me doing the baking and providing materials for a cake topper while they decorated the way they wanted. However the cakes might have looked to outsiders, to the kids they were birthday masterpieces.

This past December our tradition underwent a new evolution, one that is proving to be the most precious of all. My oldest learned to bake, and with that knowledge begged to make her younger sister’s cake from scratch. She baked, the birthday girl decorated. Today we had the third birthday since this new development. Our days of boxed cakes are over for good. My days of creating the magic are over; I’ve been relegated to the rank of supplier. Instead, I watch my children excitedly creating their own magic, working together to produce a vision of their own imagination. I get to watch them make unforgettable memories.

Dark Star

Her sisters already framed the night sky, swirling gently into the place reserved for them by Zeus. Only she remained, already touched with the stardust of the light she would become. The light she had not chosen.

The grasses crushed softly under her bare feet as she walked slowly across her mother’s pasture, their scent drawing agonized tears to her eyes. If she joined the others in the globe of the heavens as commanded, would she ever smell the sweet scent of life again? How could this be protection? Why could not Orion be cursed to travel the heavens, far from his beloved forests and the game he sought?

Her sons were so young, only millennia yet gifted to them. Especially Lycus, so impetuous and headstrong. He was his mother’s son, she thought, a quick smile chasing stardust from her face. He would take what he wanted, she knew, but without her guidance he would never escape the consequences. After all, had she not learned from her father’s fate? Some battles could not be won by force, only by wit and cunning.

Yet even she seemed unable to win this one. Celaeno, the daughter of the mightiest Titan ever to walk the earth, would be banished forever, while her tormenter remained free to choose his own fate. The stardust thickened and she clenched transforming fists around the folds of her now radiant gown. “I will never be a star!” hung voiceless in the windless night as a seventh light joined the circle above.