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.

return

I graduated, in a year that went so fast it took forever. I am pleased, for I used to fear that I would fail in "regular school." I have been to the Middle East.

Now I am at home again: working, eating, and sleeping. Not much else. Reentering the daily life of my family has not really happened, consequently. But maybe that is in some ways a good thing. I'm not actually sure that I could have gone back to the status quo. As my father told me this evening, three adults in one house are bound to experience friction. (Loose paraphrase.)

Having put off for a year the undying questions about my future, I now face them again, and have the same answer to give that I did then: I'm not really sure. Maybe BICS (year two this time), maybe regular college, maybe distance learning. Maybe none of the above. That last option sounds appealing. As to a vocation and appropriate major, again, I have no idea. I do know that I like to read, think, and talk. Actually I like to read and repeat what I've read. Not much thinking really goes into it.

I'm interested in philosophy, really worldview stuff. What are the basic presuppositions, how do they play out in culture, and how do you communicate the gospel to the individuals in that culture. This must not, however, be dry academic inquiry, a pursuit that would be easy for me to retreat into. I might be interested in doing post-graduate work in the field, but for now I have a few other ideas.

What does it mean to love God? To love man? I think more and more that I need to be a servant. As Mr. Raker would say, "Good theology is practical theology." My beliefs are worthless if I do not put them into practice. My actions will either verify or belie my beliefs. In the past I have reacted strongly against a purely humanitarian gospel, practiced by many American churches today, but I find that its direct opposite is no better. One consists of works unfounded in faith, the other is all foundation with no works. Both are dead. I hope to wed orthodoxy and orthopraxis in my life. That would be true orthodoxy.

I have neglected both prayer and the study of God's Word since returning from school. My discipline seemed to fail me, as my own strength always does. Sin and guilt crept into my being. I am vile. In such times I get very low, and begin to doubt my election and God's grace. Then I remember why I am falling into sin and out of communion with God: I am not with God, in prayer and in Scripture. I have to fight to make my calling and election sure. Salvation is of grace alone, but unlike justification, I must actively pursue my sanctification. I am grateful that God caught me this time before I slipped too far. Those he predestined, he called; those he called, he also justified; those he justified, he also glorified. It is all of him.

And yet the cynical fatalist in me raises its head. Vestiges of my old nature I suppose. Perhaps I will write again before another nine months elapse.

I really should rename this thing. I'm not a Latin freak.

Since July

Wow, I can't believe that it has been over two months since I last sat down to update this thing. I suppose that this procrastination isn't a bad thing, considering what my priorities should be right now.

I've now been at the Berkshire Institute for Christian Studies for a month. Though it feels like I've been here forever, time has flown by. The weeks pass quickly as I go to classes, study, eat, and sleep. The first couple of weeks were rough- not so much emotionally as physically. The stress was pretty hard on my body though my mental state was pretty good. I miss my home and my family, but I am not homesick. This is a strange feeling, this growing up, and hard to explain. I want to be home with them, but I'm OK here.

The academics here are challenging- more challenging than I expected. I'm doing OK for the time being, but I occasionally have moments of extreme discouragement as I contemplate the writing ahead. I know that I will struggle with it.

Anyway, I have lots to think about. Especially self discipline and doing difficult things for the glory of God. I am so grateful, so inexpressibly blessed to have a purpose. I am not alone in the universe. There is a God who is there who has raised me from death to life and given me a hope, a purpose. The despair of rising each morning without a reason, a point is not my life. God is good. He is challenging me, and by His grace I am growing.

Change

Here I sit, attempting to pen a support letter for school. I will begin my year at The Berkshire Institute for Christian Studies on August 25th, and I need to have my finances in order. A cursory glance at my last bank statement reveals that I need help. I'm OK with that. I guess two jobs this summer and one in Lenox for the year aren't enough to get me through the year, so I am utilizing BICS's DiscipleBuilders program. Hopefully a few nice people will be willing to lend me pecuniary assistance. I wonder what my chances are for getting a job in a health food store... I could take that for a year.

The problem is that at this moment I'm not excited about going. Curious, but not really excited. Or maybe I'm excited about being there, but not about leaving home, and the latter feeling is strongly outweighing the former. Maybe I'm nervous about homework assignments, roommates, research papers, SAT's, finding a piano teacher to work with. My mind will be distracted by questions about the future. I want to take the SAT, as well as two SAT subject tests, put together a piano audition, and apply for college. What college? The one that appeals to me right now, at this moment, is a secular school in New York. I wonder if I could handle that. Maybe if I find a good church...

Uhg. I'm back. I think the letter is pretty much done. I just hope it isn't too sappy. I have a feeling it is.