As of seventeen minutes ago, I am thirty-one. I'm officially in my thirties. I was thirty last year; this year I am embarking on my thirties- some more than thirty. I'm thirty-one and this is what I know.
1. I have found true love.
2. I have learned how to love truly.
3. Children breed life.
4. Laughter is good medicine.
5. Kindness does not equal politeness.
6. Talk less, live more.
7. I am not a good listener but I'm learning.
8. Family is forever.
9. Acceptance is freedom.
10. Don't make excuses. Your friends don't need them and your enemies don't believe them.
11. Hard work is invigorating.
12. Music, fresh air, and sunshine chase the blues away.
13. The Word of God is LIFE.
14. Hope is my worldview.
15. Appearances tell lies.
16. My favorite place is the backyard.
17. You really only need five good friends, and sometimes only four.
18. Wardrobe is how you wear it, not what you're wearing.
19. Clean house because it's a responsibility, not just for company.
20. Slow and steady makes Mommy a lot nicer.
21. Sugar makes me fat.
22. Exercise kills me and gives me new life.
23. Dance parties in the living room. Just do it.
24. I still care what people think.
25. I am totally and completely in love with Dale.
26. I'm really glad I never started smoking.
27. I wish I never would've started Starbucks.
28. My kids are the most mesmerizing little people I've ever known.
29. Writing gives me wings.
30. I'm a dreamer.
31. Life goes faster every year. Live now.
Friday, May 25, 2007
Wednesday, May 23, 2007
Good Things
Moving has yet to top my *favorite things* list, but there are perks. Like the countless loads of neglected toys that find new homes via the Goodwill, the hundreds of pounds of garbage that are lifted from our habitation, and my personal favorite, the journey down memory lane.
In a stack of unmarked VHS tapes I found my wedding video. This year marks our eleventh anniversary and a deeper dive into the boundless love that is ours because of Christ. I watched with tears rolling down my cheeks surrounded by our childern in the life that is ours because of Christ. What was really fascinating to me was the love that we felt with such intensity for each other when we barely knew one another, I could see it in our eyes. It was the same look that I have in my eyes now only it was naive and innocent and untainted and shallow. Depth comes with trial and perseverance and suffering and pushing past what seems hopeless to attain what is hoped for.
I cry so easily these days... maybe it really is the overwhelming situations that I continue to find myself in, but I don't think so. It's true; I'm sad, and nervous, and pre-lonely, but I don't think that's it either. I think it's that in this life, I have everything. I have everything this life has to offer. We have health and hope and peace and family that sticks and loves each other deeply and almost inexpressibly. I think they are tears of gratitude for the goodness that my God, who is generous and defines love, has lavished on someone so unworthy of any good thing.
So when I read your emails so full of anguish, I cry, because I've been there and will be there again hoping someone is crying with me and praying for my peace as I am for you, knowing that on the other side there is rest for God's people.
In a stack of unmarked VHS tapes I found my wedding video. This year marks our eleventh anniversary and a deeper dive into the boundless love that is ours because of Christ. I watched with tears rolling down my cheeks surrounded by our childern in the life that is ours because of Christ. What was really fascinating to me was the love that we felt with such intensity for each other when we barely knew one another, I could see it in our eyes. It was the same look that I have in my eyes now only it was naive and innocent and untainted and shallow. Depth comes with trial and perseverance and suffering and pushing past what seems hopeless to attain what is hoped for.
I cry so easily these days... maybe it really is the overwhelming situations that I continue to find myself in, but I don't think so. It's true; I'm sad, and nervous, and pre-lonely, but I don't think that's it either. I think it's that in this life, I have everything. I have everything this life has to offer. We have health and hope and peace and family that sticks and loves each other deeply and almost inexpressibly. I think they are tears of gratitude for the goodness that my God, who is generous and defines love, has lavished on someone so unworthy of any good thing.
So when I read your emails so full of anguish, I cry, because I've been there and will be there again hoping someone is crying with me and praying for my peace as I am for you, knowing that on the other side there is rest for God's people.
Friday, May 18, 2007
April showers bring May flowers
In the sixth grade I lived two blocks from my school. If I went through the front door, it was three and a half blocks, so typically I went out the backdoor, cut through the alley, and through our backyard neighbor's driveway/parking lot. *side: He was an orthodontist, built a mansion with an orthodontic practice in the lower half. He's having a difficult time selling the house/practice.* When the weather was tolerable, older kids, probably eighth graders, would crowd into a corner behind his house in the alley to smoke. If it was cold, they'd hang in a tight group to block the wind. I never thought much of it; actually, my siblings and I would balk at them in disdain from our kitchen window, generally passing by with an air of self-righteousness. It was rare for me to be alone in the exchange because Jon, my older brother, attended the school across from mine so I always timed my departure to coincide with his.
In the sixth grade I had relatively short frizzy red hair that may have been construed in current fashion circles as a mullet. I wore glasses. They weren't the dark brown trendy 80s-esque frames that everyone esle wore; mine were blue. And not blue everywhere, but blue in clear plastic that faded in and out. The arms, the sides of the glasses, swooped down in perfect grandma fashion on each side. My favorite thing to wear with my blue glasses, was a blue and white striped wide-necked sweater, and a shell necklace that my friend Melissa brought me from Hawaii. Not a pretty white choker that is still fashionable, a long string of seashells that "chinked" everytime I moved. As a sixth grader, I was pretty hot.
It was cold one morning when I rolled out of bed at ten minutes to eight; everyone else was rushing around to get to where they were going. By the time I had dressed and brushed my teeth, which was really all I did to get ready for school, the house was nearly empty and I was forced to make the trek by myself. Scarffing my breakfast, I prayed that the smokers wouldn't be in the alley as I pulled back a corner of the curtain on the back door and peeked through the window. To my dismay there was a raucous swarm of jean-jacket clad teenagers puffing away. Of course I considered going out the front door and walking the extra two blocks to avoid them completely, but I knew I'd be late for school. So I had a little pep talk with myself about how I was eleven now and needed to be tougher and push past my silly fears of strangers and walking places by myself. Taking a deep breath, I put on my bravest face and strode through the backdoor and down the sidewalk to the gate. My heart was racing, but my face was stone cold and I was fearless... until I caught the attention of the oldest member of the crowd.
Remember when you were in school and there was always a guy hanging around the parking lot, sometimes he'd show up at recess and you thought he was so cool? He must've been at least 19 because he had a 10-speed and a cigarrette behind his ear. He usually wore sunglasses, an REO Speedwagon t-shirt, and only the cool kids knew his name...? You know the guy. That was the guy in the alley that day that interrupted the conversation of the pack to say, "Hey there, pretty thing," and smile an invitational smile.
Alarms went off in my head; I was panic-strickened. I was a fearful child, for whatever reason, but this was the first I had experienced immanent danger by myself.
I hurried on to the safety of the orthodontist's parking lot hoping there would be people with early appointments on the other side of that gate. Trying not to "run scared" I scurried as fast as I could to school and then cried all day. My teacher was so wise in her dealings with me. I was not only fearful, but often very emotional as well, so she drew the attention away from my desk by the window and went right on teaching like everything was fine while I put my head on the desk and cried.
The time frame is sketchy here because everything sat in my memory like the present; it may have been the same month weeks prior when a fellow 6th grader was raped on school grounds by a high boy who played to her general innocence and coerced her into the auditorium where he sexually assaulted an eleven-year-old girl. Someone I saw everyday at school was assaulted in a place I was forced to go everyday. And maybe it was two or three weeks before that when our there was a telephone call during Sunday morning worship with a request to pray for another church who had, minutes before, been accosted by a man toting a duffel bag full of guns and ammunition who randomly opened fire on the congregation. Both events troubled me deeply.
What changed me in those consecutive events was the reality that tragedy is no respector of persons and people are not generally good. That's a tough pill to swallow for a child. I didn't want to go to school because I was afraid that I wouldn't be so lucky the next time I ran into the drop-out that smoked with eighth-graders in the alley. And I didn't want to be in the school where grown up boys could just walk in and rape whomever fell into their trap. And the only safe place I loved to go was no longer safe from murders who had no respect for anything or anyone. I don't think that my fear was unreasonable.
Maybe that's why I loved Bonnie so much, my childhood best friend. She was fearless. While I ducked and covered in the face of danger, she stood with dignity, whether someone was threatening her or tornadoes were spinning above the mall where we were shopping. She was fearless.
Regardless of the turbulence of the sixth grade, God has given me wisdom in this one thing that enables me to sleep at night in this truly fallen world. In life there are countless tragedies that could devastate a person, not just wierdos and their antics, but sickness, danger, poverty, natural disaster. We live in the archer's attack on Braveheart and the arrows are tragedies. Our only defense is salvation. God is the umbrella, the shield around us, and He allows only the arrows of His choosing under the cover of His mercy, and that to change us and build endurance. *Consider it all joy, my brethren, when you encounter various trials, knowing that the testing of your faith produces endurance.*
So I'm thankful that God has chosen the events of my course and will craft in me the character of His goodness in due time.
In the sixth grade I had relatively short frizzy red hair that may have been construed in current fashion circles as a mullet. I wore glasses. They weren't the dark brown trendy 80s-esque frames that everyone esle wore; mine were blue. And not blue everywhere, but blue in clear plastic that faded in and out. The arms, the sides of the glasses, swooped down in perfect grandma fashion on each side. My favorite thing to wear with my blue glasses, was a blue and white striped wide-necked sweater, and a shell necklace that my friend Melissa brought me from Hawaii. Not a pretty white choker that is still fashionable, a long string of seashells that "chinked" everytime I moved. As a sixth grader, I was pretty hot.
It was cold one morning when I rolled out of bed at ten minutes to eight; everyone else was rushing around to get to where they were going. By the time I had dressed and brushed my teeth, which was really all I did to get ready for school, the house was nearly empty and I was forced to make the trek by myself. Scarffing my breakfast, I prayed that the smokers wouldn't be in the alley as I pulled back a corner of the curtain on the back door and peeked through the window. To my dismay there was a raucous swarm of jean-jacket clad teenagers puffing away. Of course I considered going out the front door and walking the extra two blocks to avoid them completely, but I knew I'd be late for school. So I had a little pep talk with myself about how I was eleven now and needed to be tougher and push past my silly fears of strangers and walking places by myself. Taking a deep breath, I put on my bravest face and strode through the backdoor and down the sidewalk to the gate. My heart was racing, but my face was stone cold and I was fearless... until I caught the attention of the oldest member of the crowd.
Remember when you were in school and there was always a guy hanging around the parking lot, sometimes he'd show up at recess and you thought he was so cool? He must've been at least 19 because he had a 10-speed and a cigarrette behind his ear. He usually wore sunglasses, an REO Speedwagon t-shirt, and only the cool kids knew his name...? You know the guy. That was the guy in the alley that day that interrupted the conversation of the pack to say, "Hey there, pretty thing," and smile an invitational smile.
Alarms went off in my head; I was panic-strickened. I was a fearful child, for whatever reason, but this was the first I had experienced immanent danger by myself.
I hurried on to the safety of the orthodontist's parking lot hoping there would be people with early appointments on the other side of that gate. Trying not to "run scared" I scurried as fast as I could to school and then cried all day. My teacher was so wise in her dealings with me. I was not only fearful, but often very emotional as well, so she drew the attention away from my desk by the window and went right on teaching like everything was fine while I put my head on the desk and cried.
The time frame is sketchy here because everything sat in my memory like the present; it may have been the same month weeks prior when a fellow 6th grader was raped on school grounds by a high boy who played to her general innocence and coerced her into the auditorium where he sexually assaulted an eleven-year-old girl. Someone I saw everyday at school was assaulted in a place I was forced to go everyday. And maybe it was two or three weeks before that when our there was a telephone call during Sunday morning worship with a request to pray for another church who had, minutes before, been accosted by a man toting a duffel bag full of guns and ammunition who randomly opened fire on the congregation. Both events troubled me deeply.
What changed me in those consecutive events was the reality that tragedy is no respector of persons and people are not generally good. That's a tough pill to swallow for a child. I didn't want to go to school because I was afraid that I wouldn't be so lucky the next time I ran into the drop-out that smoked with eighth-graders in the alley. And I didn't want to be in the school where grown up boys could just walk in and rape whomever fell into their trap. And the only safe place I loved to go was no longer safe from murders who had no respect for anything or anyone. I don't think that my fear was unreasonable.
Maybe that's why I loved Bonnie so much, my childhood best friend. She was fearless. While I ducked and covered in the face of danger, she stood with dignity, whether someone was threatening her or tornadoes were spinning above the mall where we were shopping. She was fearless.
Regardless of the turbulence of the sixth grade, God has given me wisdom in this one thing that enables me to sleep at night in this truly fallen world. In life there are countless tragedies that could devastate a person, not just wierdos and their antics, but sickness, danger, poverty, natural disaster. We live in the archer's attack on Braveheart and the arrows are tragedies. Our only defense is salvation. God is the umbrella, the shield around us, and He allows only the arrows of His choosing under the cover of His mercy, and that to change us and build endurance. *Consider it all joy, my brethren, when you encounter various trials, knowing that the testing of your faith produces endurance.*
So I'm thankful that God has chosen the events of my course and will craft in me the character of His goodness in due time.
Tuesday, March 27, 2007
Doxology
I used to love animals, when I was a kid. We had a houseful of kids and a revolving door of animals, revolving from this life to the next. We also lived in a huge house and lost a lots of animals- hamsters, gerbils, garter snakes, most of which we found; so when we lost the first hamster in our household of late, I hunted until they were found. Somehow three hamsters survived the move from Missouri to Nebraska, which I wasn't counting on, and the saga continued.
We were all devastated Christmas Eve after a Sutton family tradition of loading up in our pajamas and went out to look at Christmas lights, to find the oldest and sweetest of the three hours from his death. The poor thing- it was terrible. We sent the kids up to bed and in five minutes the girls were hysterically screaming. Micah delivered the news to me and all we could do was sit and stare and pray as the kids cried and the hamster died. It was terrible. A week later on New Years Eve, with no warning, we found the next one stiff in his food bowl and we cried.
It is fascinating to me how God teaches us to live and cope through daily real life occurrences, preparing us for trials. Kennedy cried every night for over a week, and even after that moved into Jasmine's room because the sound of the hamster rummaging through it's bedding was comforting- the remaining live hamster.
You can imagine the reaction when Chocolate Chip disappeared a week ago. No one got too worked up until three days passed and I announced that he had probably died. Presumably, he climbed into the vent and got lost in the maze, eventually being burned up by the heater. We never smelled him, but I couldn't imagine him surviving after three days. Jasmine's sadness was contagious; I found her by herself sobbing and could feel the inconsolable sadness. It broke my heart. My children have learned to grieve through this process, an invaluable, unteachable life lesson. Thank You, God.
And now a lesson on faith.
Sarah woke me at 6:30 yesterday morning to tell me she heard *rodent noises* in the ceiling panels. I scurried down the stairs and set a trap for the little guy, praying but not believing that it wasn't a mouse, and sat by the wall listening to his scratching and climbing and chewing for an hour. He retreated to sleep early (they're nocturnal) and I went about the laundry and prayed. Elation...? is what I feel right now. Sarah came upstairs this morning with two fuzzy pink socks on her hands holding our hamster, who has travelled from death, we thought, to life! He is safely in his cage napping now. I literally have butterflies in my stomach over bringing him back to Jasmine, who is still sleeping and totally unaware. Last night she prayed that we would find Chocolate Chip and that he wouldn't be dead.
God loves children so much that in this fallen world where there is war and hunger and domestic violence and every kind of evil, He answered our prayers for Chocolate Chip, and for that I will praise Him.
Praise God from Whom all blessings flow
Praise Him all creatures here below
Praise Him above ye heavenly hosts
Praise Father Son and Holy Ghost
Amen
We were all devastated Christmas Eve after a Sutton family tradition of loading up in our pajamas and went out to look at Christmas lights, to find the oldest and sweetest of the three hours from his death. The poor thing- it was terrible. We sent the kids up to bed and in five minutes the girls were hysterically screaming. Micah delivered the news to me and all we could do was sit and stare and pray as the kids cried and the hamster died. It was terrible. A week later on New Years Eve, with no warning, we found the next one stiff in his food bowl and we cried.
It is fascinating to me how God teaches us to live and cope through daily real life occurrences, preparing us for trials. Kennedy cried every night for over a week, and even after that moved into Jasmine's room because the sound of the hamster rummaging through it's bedding was comforting- the remaining live hamster.
You can imagine the reaction when Chocolate Chip disappeared a week ago. No one got too worked up until three days passed and I announced that he had probably died. Presumably, he climbed into the vent and got lost in the maze, eventually being burned up by the heater. We never smelled him, but I couldn't imagine him surviving after three days. Jasmine's sadness was contagious; I found her by herself sobbing and could feel the inconsolable sadness. It broke my heart. My children have learned to grieve through this process, an invaluable, unteachable life lesson. Thank You, God.
And now a lesson on faith.
Sarah woke me at 6:30 yesterday morning to tell me she heard *rodent noises* in the ceiling panels. I scurried down the stairs and set a trap for the little guy, praying but not believing that it wasn't a mouse, and sat by the wall listening to his scratching and climbing and chewing for an hour. He retreated to sleep early (they're nocturnal) and I went about the laundry and prayed. Elation...? is what I feel right now. Sarah came upstairs this morning with two fuzzy pink socks on her hands holding our hamster, who has travelled from death, we thought, to life! He is safely in his cage napping now. I literally have butterflies in my stomach over bringing him back to Jasmine, who is still sleeping and totally unaware. Last night she prayed that we would find Chocolate Chip and that he wouldn't be dead.
God loves children so much that in this fallen world where there is war and hunger and domestic violence and every kind of evil, He answered our prayers for Chocolate Chip, and for that I will praise Him.
Praise God from Whom all blessings flow
Praise Him all creatures here below
Praise Him above ye heavenly hosts
Praise Father Son and Holy Ghost
Amen
Saturday, March 24, 2007
Tuesday, March 20, 2007
This Was Good
Spoken universe out of the empty deep
creation pleading to be told to breathe
sea and sky night and day every star with a name
This was good.
Creatures of the land and sea and
every living breathing thing
flying birds taught to sing and
so it was and so became perfect beauty
perfect way and this was good.
This was good, this was God, and this was good.
Dust and mud the image of
God wrapped up in us, him and her and likeness
touched by hands of glory, hands of love
and this was good.
Rain to fall and wind to blow
fish to swim and beasts to roam and
the voice of God and it was so
its not good for man to be alone
This was good, this was God... and this was good.
Writer of the wings of wind
Your design and our sin
still has You in longing
All my head and voice became a world of disappointment
You're the One who is the same
the One who is still believing that this was good,
this was very good.
Living things both large and small
remember He who made you
Heaven and earth and all that is
recall the voice that saved you
This was good, this was God.
-rita springer
creation pleading to be told to breathe
sea and sky night and day every star with a name
This was good.
Creatures of the land and sea and
every living breathing thing
flying birds taught to sing and
so it was and so became perfect beauty
perfect way and this was good.
This was good, this was God, and this was good.
Dust and mud the image of
God wrapped up in us, him and her and likeness
touched by hands of glory, hands of love
and this was good.
Rain to fall and wind to blow
fish to swim and beasts to roam and
the voice of God and it was so
its not good for man to be alone
This was good, this was God... and this was good.
Writer of the wings of wind
Your design and our sin
still has You in longing
All my head and voice became a world of disappointment
You're the One who is the same
the One who is still believing that this was good,
this was very good.
Living things both large and small
remember He who made you
Heaven and earth and all that is
recall the voice that saved you
This was good, this was God.
-rita springer
Wednesday, March 14, 2007
Divide and Conquer
We have anticipated this past weekend for months, knowing it was a long shot and that it may be the only visit we get to have with our close friends; our soul ties, for another year. So when it worked out for them to spend three days with us, and all the kids, we were elated. Dale asked Marty to teach Sunday morning and there was something he said that keeps coming back to me.
He said that when there is a battle in progress, one of the greatest strategies is to
*divide the enemy* because if you can split them up *they will be conquered.*
I can't get it out of my head...
Martin Luther was grieved because his work, the labors of his life and mission, birthed severe division in the church as never it had seen. He honestly believed that if he went with a right heart to the leaders, they would repent and rebuild.
This is dear to my heart especially now because when we talk about our church, the first thing people ask is, "What kind of church is it?" I want to say, "It's Jesus' church," but that's a foreign concept to unchurched people. It's even foreign to a lot of churched people. But it's true, if we truly are the body of Christ, all of us, then our name doesn't define us, our affiliation should be seen in our actions, not the location or title. We should be able to interchange with every other fellowship in our community and we are the same. We're Jesus' church. It's a little ideological, I know. But in my heart it's so right that I can't help but hope for the unification of the true church. How can I not?
Paul said in Ephesians, "Therefore I, the prisoner of the Lord implore you to walk in a manner worthy of the calling with which you have been called, with all humility and gentleness, with patience, showing tolerance for one another in love, being diligent to preserve the UNITY OF THE SPIRIT in the bond of peace."
God knew that we would get on each others' nerves and that we would disagree. He knew we would hurt each other and that we would suffer difficulties in this life because of each other, but he instituted the church to function together in oneness so that when these things happen, we can cover each others hurts with love and continue in the race together.
It's work, it takes effort and consistency. As much as I have suffered the wounds of "Christians are the only people that shoot their wounded" I have also shot at wounded Christians countless times. It's a terrible cycle. But God has extended grace and forgiveness to me and I have to do the same in order to PRESERVE THE UNITY of the Spirit with my brothers and sisters in Christ.
This is what amazes me about the true church. When I am my brothers and sisters in oneness, I remember why we do what we do in this life. I am inspired to step up the measure of integrity that I live my life by. I want to be better in every way. Not that God isn't prevalent all the time, it just seems harder when there's no one beside me saying, "Press on! Fight the good fight!" And when I have it, I can do anything because my eyes are focused on Jesus. This life is temporal and eternity is real. It's where we belong, it's what we were redeemed for. And that's how we should be for each other. God knew we needed each other to go through hard things together, to sharpen one another and to push each other forward.
So run, Christian! Throw off the burdens that hold you back! It's only for a little while, we can make it together!
He said that when there is a battle in progress, one of the greatest strategies is to
*divide the enemy* because if you can split them up *they will be conquered.*
I can't get it out of my head...
Martin Luther was grieved because his work, the labors of his life and mission, birthed severe division in the church as never it had seen. He honestly believed that if he went with a right heart to the leaders, they would repent and rebuild.
This is dear to my heart especially now because when we talk about our church, the first thing people ask is, "What kind of church is it?" I want to say, "It's Jesus' church," but that's a foreign concept to unchurched people. It's even foreign to a lot of churched people. But it's true, if we truly are the body of Christ, all of us, then our name doesn't define us, our affiliation should be seen in our actions, not the location or title. We should be able to interchange with every other fellowship in our community and we are the same. We're Jesus' church. It's a little ideological, I know. But in my heart it's so right that I can't help but hope for the unification of the true church. How can I not?
Paul said in Ephesians, "Therefore I, the prisoner of the Lord implore you to walk in a manner worthy of the calling with which you have been called, with all humility and gentleness, with patience, showing tolerance for one another in love, being diligent to preserve the UNITY OF THE SPIRIT in the bond of peace."
God knew that we would get on each others' nerves and that we would disagree. He knew we would hurt each other and that we would suffer difficulties in this life because of each other, but he instituted the church to function together in oneness so that when these things happen, we can cover each others hurts with love and continue in the race together.
It's work, it takes effort and consistency. As much as I have suffered the wounds of "Christians are the only people that shoot their wounded" I have also shot at wounded Christians countless times. It's a terrible cycle. But God has extended grace and forgiveness to me and I have to do the same in order to PRESERVE THE UNITY of the Spirit with my brothers and sisters in Christ.
This is what amazes me about the true church. When I am my brothers and sisters in oneness, I remember why we do what we do in this life. I am inspired to step up the measure of integrity that I live my life by. I want to be better in every way. Not that God isn't prevalent all the time, it just seems harder when there's no one beside me saying, "Press on! Fight the good fight!" And when I have it, I can do anything because my eyes are focused on Jesus. This life is temporal and eternity is real. It's where we belong, it's what we were redeemed for. And that's how we should be for each other. God knew we needed each other to go through hard things together, to sharpen one another and to push each other forward.
So run, Christian! Throw off the burdens that hold you back! It's only for a little while, we can make it together!
Monday, January 29, 2007
Come hither... let us think
It's funny the things you think about when you are thinking. After two miserably sick days for all of us, I felt surprisingly rested and well lying in bed last night waiting for sleep to take me. And it occurred to me- he made them disappear. Have you seen this movie, The Illusionist? At the beginnning of the movie, there is a scene where the best friends in young love run away trying to escape the powers that be forcing their separation and she says to the boy, newly practiced in magic tricks, "Make us disappear," in desperation hoping to escape forever, but he can't do it and they are ripped apart seemingly forever. But in the end- don't read this if you haven't seen it- he does it, he makes them disappear... it's fantastic writing! I'm lying there thinking, "He really did- he made them disappear! How brilliant!"
Which brings me to my next thought, "Is it inclusion or foreshadowing?" These simple literary lessons being stacked in sections as we continue -- let me interrupt here to say that Leila is standing next to the wall beside me; there's an arch between the dining room and living room and in the arch the wall is wide, also the floorboards are thick and high, but only in the sense of floorboards, in reality they are about half an inch out from the wall and the wall is maybe 6-7 inches thick. All that to say she's leaning against the wall and trying to sit on the top edge of the floorboard, and all the sudden she slides completely down, feet first, onto the floor in a *shwoop*. She is so funny! --as we continue the laborious process of studying HOW TO READ THE BIBLE FOR ALL ITS WORTH. That, my friends, is another feature of a narrative, where repitition resumes the narrative after it is interrupted. Repitition is a significant attention grabber pulling the reader's attention into the plot.
For months I have not been pressed to write... my ramblings, rather, I've ensconced in fiction requiring nothing but time and the energy it takes to type. However, the tide has changed and I have so much to think about that I'm compelled to write. Surely my readers have given up on finding anything new here because most of you talk to me on a regular basis, but if you have found me here before, you will certainly find me here again.
P.S. For HOW TO READ studiers: It's chaism(a)... if you have read the chapter, that was probably the most confusing feature, but here it is in simple terms. Not in the movie, it's in the paragraph above. The writer uses the ABCCBA plotline... it starts A:literary features B:Leila on the wall C: the structure of the wall C: detailed structure of the wall B: Leila back on the wall and falls A: literary features. S
Which brings me to my next thought, "Is it inclusion or foreshadowing?" These simple literary lessons being stacked in sections as we continue -- let me interrupt here to say that Leila is standing next to the wall beside me; there's an arch between the dining room and living room and in the arch the wall is wide, also the floorboards are thick and high, but only in the sense of floorboards, in reality they are about half an inch out from the wall and the wall is maybe 6-7 inches thick. All that to say she's leaning against the wall and trying to sit on the top edge of the floorboard, and all the sudden she slides completely down, feet first, onto the floor in a *shwoop*. She is so funny! --as we continue the laborious process of studying HOW TO READ THE BIBLE FOR ALL ITS WORTH. That, my friends, is another feature of a narrative, where repitition resumes the narrative after it is interrupted. Repitition is a significant attention grabber pulling the reader's attention into the plot.
For months I have not been pressed to write... my ramblings, rather, I've ensconced in fiction requiring nothing but time and the energy it takes to type. However, the tide has changed and I have so much to think about that I'm compelled to write. Surely my readers have given up on finding anything new here because most of you talk to me on a regular basis, but if you have found me here before, you will certainly find me here again.
P.S. For HOW TO READ studiers: It's chaism(a)... if you have read the chapter, that was probably the most confusing feature, but here it is in simple terms. Not in the movie, it's in the paragraph above. The writer uses the ABCCBA plotline... it starts A:literary features B:Leila on the wall C: the structure of the wall C: detailed structure of the wall B: Leila back on the wall and falls A: literary features. S
Monday, January 08, 2007
*sigh*
Hello to you, my faithful friends and readers! Please forgive; I have not been available to attend to my current literary venture due to the gaping ditch running the length of my driveway. Having five children and no access to the facilities is an impossibility in the winter in Nebraska. SO I promise to attend to the afore mentioned venture in due time. Meanwhile if you are looking for a good read, I've heard there is a new post on www.bigafrican.blogspot.com that you might take an interest in. See you next post...
Monday, January 01, 2007
It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas. Outside.
A litte here... I managed to clean up the masses of confetti from the 10:07 countdown to the new year with the kids and was thinking about the year we had New Years with the Suttons and Dana said she was cleaning it up for weeks. Fortunately I had the foresight to say, "We don't need to use all these," and tuck them behind the punch bowl. Thank you Sista bringing your party favors, and lucky for us we'll have some for next year! Woohoo!
Now we're waiting for the events of the day to unfold; looks like we'll head out into the cold, bundled to the hilt with sleds, boxes, and trash bags. I used to be fun. In college they called school off one time due to drastic weather conditions; and being that we lived on campus, the foot of snow meant we were stuck. So like resourceful students, we raided the kitchen of giant pots and serving trays and belly-flopped down the hill all morning, afternoon, and night. Let me tell you, it was the time of my life. (back then) I did risk life and limb for the thrill of one more trek down the hill after dark, which by that time was a sheet of ice, and I flew down the hill, into the ditch, up the other side in a spinning blur and landed hard in the middle of the street, which was something I failed to anticipate. Fun stuff.
Now I'm busy; a busy, boring mom with little energy for fun. So after the suggestion was brought to the table, I forged past the busy boringness of who I have become, back into the adventurous being I used to be and decided we should go. So we're going.
Woohoo.
Now we're waiting for the events of the day to unfold; looks like we'll head out into the cold, bundled to the hilt with sleds, boxes, and trash bags. I used to be fun. In college they called school off one time due to drastic weather conditions; and being that we lived on campus, the foot of snow meant we were stuck. So like resourceful students, we raided the kitchen of giant pots and serving trays and belly-flopped down the hill all morning, afternoon, and night. Let me tell you, it was the time of my life. (back then) I did risk life and limb for the thrill of one more trek down the hill after dark, which by that time was a sheet of ice, and I flew down the hill, into the ditch, up the other side in a spinning blur and landed hard in the middle of the street, which was something I failed to anticipate. Fun stuff.
Now I'm busy; a busy, boring mom with little energy for fun. So after the suggestion was brought to the table, I forged past the busy boringness of who I have become, back into the adventurous being I used to be and decided we should go. So we're going.
Woohoo.
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