An island called crow

From the shore I took this picture, because I was carrying a camera. I had just bought it, because I wanted one. The beach is the end of a path that I ran on years ago with my sister. Not my little sister, because she was too little and could not keep up, but my twin-size sister and my cousins. We played ambush, because we could. The woods were laced with deer paths, perfect for woodland warfare. It was always two against two. They always won, even when we hid behind the big boulders. We wore our coon skin caps, because that is what Davy Crockett would do. We crawled on our stomachs, getting spruce needles in our underwear and sap on our shirts, because that is how you sneak up on the other two. You have to sneak, or they will hear you and yell bang I got you before you can duck out of view. Sometimes we forgot we were playing, and we would just talk accross the silent warzone about things we didn't understand, like eschatology. That was toward the end, after we had given up cold showers and doing our group hug when we said bye. They wanted to stop, not us. They grew up and we did too, becuase there was no one to play ambush with any more.

summary

This summer I doubted my salvation. The fruit of my life was sin, the same old sin; the Holy Spirit had given up on me, or never even started, and I was not saved. I shared the Gospel with people, gave away my Bible, assuring them that the one who believes on the Lord Jesus Christ will be saved (Acts 16:31) and that God is faithful and just to forgive us of all unrighteousness if we confess our sins (1 John 1:9). I believed this for them, but not for me.

In George Orwell's 1984, Winston lives in a world manipulated by Big Brother. He hates Big Brother. He rebels against Big Brother. In the end, Big Brother breaks Winston, forcing him to betray his lover in the face of his greatest fear. Ultimately, Winston comes to love Big Brother; he can say with happiness: war is peace, love is hate, two plus two equal five. As I read I questioned the goodness in the sovereignty of God. If God is good, his plan is ultimately good, and all things are ultimately good. I recoiled at this idea; surely it would be better to ignore the claims of God and acknowledge the pain in and around me. I could point to Habakkuk 3:17-18

Though the fig tree should not blossom,
nor fruit be on the vines,
the produce of the olive fail
and the fields yield no food,
the flock be cut off from the fold
and there be no herd in the stalls,
yet will I rejoice in the Lord;
I will take joy in the God of my salvation.

and tell others to bless the name of the Lord in their grief. Now I was in pain. Something that I loved was taken away from me. It was cruel, a means to the end of blind submission and worship of an impersonal manipulator of the universe. I did not want to bless the name of the Lord.

All these things were bound in piano. It was my idol. Somehow each problem I had with God came back to music. Why was it being taken from me. How could God give and take away and expect me to be happy about it. It felt supiciously like saying two plus two equals five. I could gleefully push that paradox on others, but not on myself.

I cried for my pain, for the pain of the world, for the paradox and could not sing Blessed be the name of the Lord. Mrs. Adams wrote me a card and prayed for me. Mr. Gummel gave me Richard Sibbes. Pastor Hamilton bought me coffee and walked for two and a half hours around Blue Hill listening to my sacrilege. I bought a new Bible.

Edification

The past week has introduced me to two phenomena: James Bond and vampires. The former in Quantum of Solace, the latter in I Am Legend.

James Bond, supposedly fighting on the side of truth and justice, appears to be on his own side, with his own agenda, using his own methods. His methods are brutal, particularly in relation to women, where his modus operandi appears to be use 'em and lose 'em. This callous treatment of women is disturbing. It may be the way of the world, but it need not be glorified. I felt shamed and devalued as a woman while watching Quantum of Solace.

I Am Legend is my first taste of vampire literature. Well written, it did not overemphasize with superfluous adjectives the horror of the walking dead. I am still thinking about the end, where the protagonist is exterminated as a threat to the new society, a horrible legend of the past. His role was reversed with the vampires': morality was contingent on power.

boredom

Why would Elena divorce Zorro?

I'm house-sitting. Alone. Bored out of my tree. My job lasted through October; now I am waiting to find out if Grove City will find room for me.

I have tendonosis in both arms, carpal tunnel in my wrists, and adhesions ...

[This divorce thing is bizarre]

... on my muscles.

[An add for the XBox 360 depicts an adolescent boy with the brains carved out of his head. He sits staring blankly at the screen, his mind an empty shell with floating objects in it.

The divorce was a blind.]

So basically my body gave up trying to repair the muscles I damaged while practicing and just covered them with scar tissue.

I give up piano.