Goodbye to the hardest year of my life. God, I hope the next one is better. Don't know if I'll make it through another like this, to be honest.

C.S. Lewis on Holy Romantic Love

I had forgotten about this bit of Lewis until I re-read it just now in That Hideous Strength.

How could she have thought him young? Or old either? It came over her, with a sensation of quick fear, that this face was of no age at all. She had (or so she had believed) disliked bearded faces except for old men with white hair. But that was because she had long since forgotten the imagined Arthur of her childhood--and the imagined Solomon too. Solomon--for the first time in many years the bright solar blend of king and lover and magician which hangs about that name stole back upon her mind. For the first time in all those years she tasted the word King itself with all linked associations of battle, marriage, priesthood, mercy, and power. At that moment, as her eyes first rested on his face, Jane forgot who she was, and where, and her faint grudge against Grace Ironwood, and her more obscure grudge against Mark, and her childhood and her father's house. It was, of course, only for a flash. Next moment she was once more the ordinary social Jane, flushed and confused to find that she had been staring rudely (at least she hoped that rudeness would be the main impression produced) at a total stranger. But her world was unmade; she knew that. Anything might happen now...
..."And now," thought Jane, "it's coming--it's coming-it's coming now." All the most intolerable questions he might ask, all the most extravagant things he might make her do, flashed through her mind in a fatuous medley. For all power of resistance seemed to have been drained away from her and she was left without protection.

...She was so divided against herself that one might say there were three, if not four, Janes in the compartment.
The first was a Jane simply receptive of the Director, recalling every word and every look, and delighting in them--a Jane taken utterly off her guard, shaken out of the modest little outfit of contemporary ideas which had hitherto made her portion of wisdom, and swept away on the flood tide of an experience which she did not understand and could not control. For she was trying to control it; that was the function of the second Jane. This second Jane regarded the first with disgust, as the kind of woman, in fact, whom she had always particularly despised. Once, coming out of a cinema, she had heard a little shop girl say to her friend, "Oh, wasn't he lovely! If he'd looked at me the way he looked at her, I'd have followed him to the end of the world." A little, tawdry, made-up girl, sucking a peppermint. Whether the second Jane was right in equating the first Jane with that girl, may be questioned, but she did. And she found her intolerable. To have surrendered without terms at the mere voice and look of this stranger, to have abandoned (without noticing it) that prim little grasp on her own destiny, that perpetual reservation, which she thought essential to her status as a grown-up, integrated, intelligent person...the thing was utterly degrading, vulgar, uncivilised.
The third Jane was a new and unexpected visitant. Of the first there had been traces in girlhood, and the second was what Jane took to be her "real" or normal self. But the third one, this moral Jane, was one whose existence she had never suspected. Risen from some unknown region of grace or heredity, it uttered all sorts of things which Jane had often heard before but which had never, till that moment, seemed to be connected with real life. If it had simply told her that her feelings about the Director were wrong, she would not have been very surprised, and would have discounted it as the voice of tradition. But it did not. It kept on blaming her for not having similar feelings about Mark. It kept on pressing into her mind those new feelings about Mark, feelings of guilt and pity, which she had first experienced in the Director's room. It was Mark who had made the fatal mistake; she must, must, must be "nice" to Mark. The Director obviously insisted on it. At the very moment when her mind was most filled with another man there arose, clouded with some undefined emotion, a resolution to give Mark much more than she had ever given him before, and a feeling that in so doing she would be really giving it to the Director. And this produced in her such a confusion of sensations that the whole inner debate became indistinct and flowed over into the larger experience of the fourth Jane, who was Jane herself and dominated all the rest at every moment without effort and even without choice.
This fourth and supreme Jane was simply in the state of joy. The other three had no power upon her, for she was in the sphere of Jove, amid light and music and festal pomp, brimmed with life and radiant in health, jocund and clothed in shining garments. She thought scarcely at all of the curious sensations which had immediately preceded the Director's dismissal of her and made that dismissal almost a relief. When she tried to, it immediately led her thoughts back to the Director himself. Whatever she tried to think of led back to the Director himself and, in him, to joy. She saw from the windows of the train the outlined beams of sunlight pouring over stubble or burnished woods and felt that they were like the notes of a trumpet. Her eyes rested on the rabbits and cows as they flitted by and she embraced them in heart with merry, holiday love. She delighted in the occasional speech of the one wizened old man who shared her compartment and saw, as never before, the beauty of his shrewd and sunny old mind, sweet as a nut and English as a chalk down. She reflected with surprise how long it was since music had played any part in her life, and resolved to listen to many chorales by Bach on the gramophone that evening. Or else--perhaps--she would read a great many Shakespeare sonnets. She rejoiced also in her hunger and thirst and decided that she would make herself buttered toast for tea--a great deal of buttered toast. And she rejoiced also in the consciousness of her own beauty; for she had the sensation--it may have been false in fact, but it had nothing to do with vanity--that it was growing and expanding like a magic flower with every minute that passed. In such a mood it was only natural, after the old countryman had got out at Cure Hardy, to stand up and look at herself in the mirror which confronted her on the wall of the compartment. Certainly she was looking well: she was looking unusually well. And, once more, there was little vanity in this. For beauty was made for others. Her beauty belonged to the Director. It belonged to him so completely that he could even decide not to keep it for himself but to order that it be given to another, by an act of obedience lower, and therefore higher, more unconditional and therefore more delighting, than if he had demanded it for himself.

There is so much meaning here that it's hard to know where to begin.

1) There is a metaphorical picture here of our proper response and attitude to Christ, as his bride. The evocation of Solomon refers back to the Song of Songs, which is both a literal picture of actual love between lover and beloved, the way it should be, and a metaphor of Jehovah and Israel (and ultimately of Jesus and the true Church). And it also operates on the personal level, describing the crux of the mystical life in Him, which is surrender.
2) It is a portrait of a woman turning away from modernity and feminism and embracing her essential womanhood, with all its unpopular connotations of surrender, submission, and obedience. But, as in the life in Christ, through the surrender of the self, the submission of the will, and obedience in thought and action, she discovers her real self, her own true beauty, and a new sort of love which she had never even imagined before.
3) It provides a picture for a man of what he can aspire to be to a woman. A man who, just once in his life, could make a woman feel that way could be satisfied that he had lived a full and meaningful life.
4) It describes superbly the process of inner crisis, when we aren't sure of our own thoughts and don't know our own feelings. The image of four Janes struggling against each other is brilliant, and the epiphany of the fourth being clearly the true Jane is genius. It is that inner voice which, like looking back on a riddle to which we now know the answer, we cannot believe we didn't recognize all along as being the true Inner Voice.
5) It paints a beautiful and painstaking picture of what it is to experience true love, for either sex. That is, true eros; holy erotic love; romantic love in submission to Christ. Desire without guilt. Affection without possessiveness. Intimacy without selfishness. Love for one person that enhances one's love for all others, and for the whole world and all that is in it. Love that creates a sacred feast of the senses, giving new significance and exalted enjoyment to music, poetry, beauty, food, drink, light, air, and life. The imagery of the beloved is somewhat different when it is a man loving a woman. To re-work Lewis's image: "He had long since forgotten the imagined Guinevere of his childhood, and Mary too. That sparkling starlight blend of queen and maiden and enchantress stole back upon his mind. For the first time in all those years he tasted the word Queen itself with all linked associations of wisdom, marriage, motherhood, beauty, and gentleness." In other words, when one is truly in love, the beloved becomes the archetype and image of the whole sex: the Adam or Eve; the King or Queen; the Mars or Venus. But it turns the heart outward, rather than inward. One wants to revel in the joy and share it with the whole universe, rather than building a wall around one's self and the beloved to exclude all others from it.
But none of this can be obtained by seeking or striving for it. The only way to find it is to lose it; the only way to get it is to give it up.

What's the worst thing in the world?

Seeing someone you love hurting and not being able to offer help, support, or comfort.

Sacred Art and the Incarnation

"You speak no Latin more than I, belike;
However, you're my man, you've seen the world
--The beauty and the wonder and the power,
The shapes of things, their colours, lights and shades,
Changes, surprises,--and God made it all!
--For what? Do you feel thankful, ay or no,
For this fair town's face, yonder river's line,
The mountain round it and the sky above,
Much more the figures of man, woman, child,
These are the frame to? What's it all about?
To be passed over, despised? or dwelt upon,
Wondered at? oh, this last of course!--you say,
But why not do as well as say,--paint these
Just as they are, careless what comes of it?
God's works--paint anyone, and count it crime
To let a truth slip. Don't object, "His works
Are here already; nature is complete:
Suppose you reproduce her--(which you can't)
There's no advantage! you must beat her, then."
For, don't you mark? we're made so that we love
First when we see them painted, things we have passed
Perhaps a hundred times nor cared to see;
And so they are better, painted--better to us,
Which is the same thing. Art was given for that;
God uses us to help each other so,
Lending our minds out." 

-- Robert Browning

I'm thinking of this passage in the light of God's incarnation as Man, the ultimate Self-portrait. I'm thinking about how artists are sub-creators and thus are God's own works of art: creations in His own image as Creator.

"Although now long estranged,
Man is not wholly lost nor wholly changed.
Dis-graced he may be, yet is not de-throned,
and keeps the rags of lordship once he owned:
Man, Sub-creator, the refracted Light
through whom is splintered from a single White
to many hues, and endlessly combined
in living shapes that move from mind to mind.
Though all the crannies of the world we filled
with Elves and Goblins, though we dared to build
Gods and their houses out of dark and light,
and sowed the seed of dragons--'twas our right
(used or misused). That right has not decayed:
we make still by the law in which we're made."

 -- J.R.R. Tolkien

I'm thinking about how many more people have been reached and touched by the seed of Truth by the agency of subcreation than by the direct "preaching of the gospel" as it's typically thought of by the evangelical mind. How many minds have been set on the path to the Light through first coming into contact with the work of Shakespeare, or Bach, or Michelangelo, or Pierre de Montreuil--or Tolkien? How many people's hearts have first been moved toward the Holy when Monseigneur Bienvenu shows mercy to Jean Valjean, when Karenin forgives Anna, when Scrooge repents--or when Aslan saves Edmund?

And I'm thinking about how I can participate in it all.

The only thing in the world I want for Christmas...

...is understanding and reconciliation with the people I love. Peace on earth, good will to men.

The Churchill School of Adulthood — Lesson #3: Live Romantically

Great article on rejecting the coldhearted, cynical arrogance of rationalism and embracing the passion and romance of life. Strangely appropriate on Christmas Eve, when we celebrate the most romantic and passionate of all acts: the epic moment of decision in the great battle between Good and Evil and the climactic moment of the eternal love story.

Favorite quotes:

While we commonly use “romantic” these days to describe the ardor of relationships, today we’re talking about Romanticism with a big R: a life philosophy that prizes the rejection of pure rationalism in favor of intuition, imagination, and emotion; the embrace of nonconformity and sincerity; a tendency towards nostalgia; and the celebration of curiosity, spontaneity, and wonder.

His friend Violet Bonham Carter attributed this quality to his lack of formal education (he attended a military academy instead of a liberal arts college). Churchill, she observed, lacked the jaded cynicism that one often picks up at a university along with a sheepskin, and was invigorated by simple truths that others found cliché. “To Winston Churchill,” Carter wrote, “everything under the sun was new—seen and appraised as on the first day of Creation. His approach to life was full of ardor and surprise. Even the eternal verities appeared to him to be an exciting personal discovery.”

Any man, who had the courage and will, could make himself a hero and join the fight.

Winston “venerated tradition, but ridiculed convention.”

Churchill perhaps bucked societal norms most, however, simply in how genuine he was. The man that people heard on the radio, who they saw in Parliament, was exactly the same man at home. He truly was without guile. He never put on a front, took positions he did not believe in, or evinced to be other than what he was. He refused to even sign his letters “Sincerely” unless he was really, truly sincere about the missive’s message.

One thing is for sure: he felt things deeply. “I’m a blubberer,” he gladly confessed to friends, and Manchester says that “no man wept more easily.” Reminiscing with old comrades could make him misty-eyed and he would freely mourn the deaths of his beloved pets. Even composing emotional segments of his speeches could prompt a torrent of tears – both from him and his secretaries. As one of them recalled, “I would be weeping and he would be weeping, and all the while he was dictating in his marvelous voice and I’d be tap-tapping away, the both of us weeping.”

Churchill did for the War what his contemporary, Lewis, did for Christianity: transformed it idealogically by putting it into terms that others could not only understand, but feel, and know in their hearts to be true and right.

Also, anyone who's ever escaped from a POW camp is axiomatically a badass. No further qualifications required.

From "The Art of Manliness". Full article here:

The Churchill School of Adulthood — Lesson #3: Live Romantically

Christmas 1914

Come Thou Fount of Every Blessing

Come, Thou Fount of every blessing,
Tune my heart to sing Thy grace;
Streams of mercy, never ceasing,
Call for songs of loudest praise.
Teach me some melodious sonnet,
Sung by flaming tongues above.
Praise the mount! I’m fixed upon it,
Mount of Thy redeeming love.

Sorrowing I shall be in spirit,
Till released from flesh and sin,
Yet from what I do inherit,
Here Thy praises I’ll begin;
Here I raise my Ebenezer;
Here by Thy great help I've come;
And I hope, by Thy good pleasure,
Safely to arrive at home.

Jesus sought me when a stranger,
Wandering from the fold of God;
He, to rescue me from danger,
Interposed His precious blood;
How His kindness yet pursues me
Mortal tongue can never tell,
Clothed in flesh, till death shall loose me
I cannot proclaim it well.

O to grace how great a debtor
Daily I’m constrained to be!
Let Thy goodness, like a fetter,
Bind my wandering heart to Thee.
Prone to wander, Lord, I feel it,
Prone to leave the God I love;
Here’s my heart, O take and seal it,
Seal it for Thy courts above.

O that day when freed from sinning,
I shall see Thy lovely face;
Clothed then in blood washed linen
How I’ll sing Thy sovereign grace;
Come, my Lord, no longer tarry,
Take my ransomed soul away;
Send thine angels now to carry
Me to realms of endless day.

Chopin Piano Concerto No. 1 - Romance

Lewis on Destiny

"The whole distinction between things accidental and things designed, like the distinction between fact and myth, (is) purely terrestrial. The pattern is so large that within this frame of earthly experience there appear pieces of it between which we can see no connection, and other pieces between which we can. Hence we rightly, for our use, distinguish the accidental from the essential. But step outside the frame and the distinction drops down into the void, fluttering useless wings." -- C.S. Lewis

Northern Lights

A friend just sent me this from Iceland:

I just want to hoist my pack and wander off into that tundra.

The urge to ramble is getting stronger.

The Road goes ever on and on
Down from the door where it began.
Now far ahead the Road has gone,
And I must follow, if I can,
Pursuing it with eager feet,
Until it joins some larger way,
Where many paths and errands meet.
And whither then? I cannot say.

-- J.R.R. Tolkien 

I love the Lord of the Rings reference in this song.

Mine's a tale that can't be told,
My freedom I hold dear;
How years ago in days of old
When magic filled the air,
'Twas in the darkest depths of Mordor
I met a girl so fair.
But Gollum, and the evil one
Crept up and slipped away with her.

I discovered Zeppelin soon after I discovered Tolkien, and finding these little snippets of Middle Earth in their music was like stumbling upon Easter eggs.

Anyway, if I disappear, look northward along the Appalachian trail.

Blessed is the man whose strength is in thee; in whose heart are thy ways.
Who passing through the vale of misery make it a well; the rain also filleth the pools.
They will go from strength to strength, and every one of them will appear before God in Sion

-- Psalm 84: 5-7

The Only Thing that Matters

"A new commandment I give unto you, That ye love one another; as I have loved you, that ye also love one another. By this shall all men know that ye are my disciples, if ye have love one to another." -- John 13:34-35

Religion can become very complicated. Two thousand years and thousands of volumes of theological accretions can cloud a clear vision of what God actually commands us to do. This is especially true for the learned believer.

This is not new: when Jesus walked the earth, there had already been fifteen hundred years or so of Levitical and Rabbinical commentary and exposition of the Law given by God through Moses. In fact, the process had already started before Moses's own death. If you look at the Pentateuch, you can see the original version of the Law, as given by Yahweh, in Exodus, and a somewhat modified and expounded version given by Moses in Deuteronomy--what we should probably call today the "revised and expanded" edition.

This is not necessarily bad. After all, it is still Scripture, still given by divine inspiration. I won't go too far into it, but basically it is the same law, with clarifications and adaptations to meet changing needs and questions as they arose. In a way, the epistles of the New Testament are doing the exact same thing: interpreting, expounding upon, and applying, the direct teachings of the Savior himself, in the context of the growing church. Paul and the other apostles weren't making up a new religion, nor was Moses making a new Law--they were helping people understand and practice the one that had already been given. The bill of divorcement, for example, was introduced by Moses in Deuteronomy, and is not found in the Exodus version of the Law. According to Jesus, this was allowed for "the hardness of (their) hearts". There's a New Testament example of this too, when Paul says in 1 Cor 7 "But to the rest speak I, not the Lord..." (and isn't it interesting that it's on the same topic: marriage and divorce?) But note what Jesus said about the certificate of divorce and, by extension, to the rest of the changes: "From the beginning it was not so." (Matt 19:8) So it's Scripture, it's inspired, it's authoritative, but--apparently it's less than perfect. How can that be?

What Jesus is saying here, I think, is that theology--that is, interpretation and application, is good: but be careful. Be careful not to stray too far from the intent of the commandment as originally given. But what is that intent? Well, Jesus gives us that too:

"Master, which is the great commandment in the law? Jesus said unto him, Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy mind. This is the first and great commandment. And the second is like unto it, Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself. On these two commandments hang all the law and the prophets." -- Matt 22:36-40

We're all familiar with this text: The Great Commandment. But what's really interesting here is that Jesus uses the same Greek word: εντολη when he says "A new commandment I give unto you" as when he says "This is the first and great commandment" and also when he says, in Luke 18:20, "Thou knowest the commandments," in reference to the decalogue.

That means that, when Jesus said, "love one another; as I have loved you, that ye also love one another," he was not making a suggestion or a recommendation. He was not giving us the key to a happy life, if we choose to receive it. He was not saying "this is the way I'd like to have it." He was giving us a law. A law that has the same binding character upon the apostles (and therefore, by extension, to all of us, his followers) that the Ten Commandments had upon Israel. And of course, as he himself pointed out, it really wasn't new at all: it was the summary and meaning of the whole Law from the very beginning. And not just from the beginning of the Law of Moses, either: from the true beginning. For what was the very first commandment God gave to mankind? Look at Genesis 1:28. "Be fruitful, and multiply." Unless you want to argue that God's original intent was for there to be loveless sex between husband and wife, his very first commandment to Adam and Eve was "Love one another."

So what does this mean, in practical terms, to love God and to love one another? What does it look like?

Well, the "love God" part is fairly easy to grasp, if not easy to perform. To love God is to obey him.

Deut 10:12-13 - "And now, Israel, what doth the Lord thy God require of thee, but to fear the Lord thy God, to walk in all his ways, and to love him, and to serve the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, to keep the commandments of the Lord, and his statutes, which I command thee this day for thy good?"

Eccl 12:13 - "Let us hear the conclusion of the whole matter: Fear God, and keep his commandments; for this is the whole duty of man."

Isa 1:13-17 - "Bring no more vain oblations; incense is an abomination unto me; the new moons and sabbaths, the calling of assemblies, I cannot away with; it is iniquity, even the solemn meeting. Your new moons and your appointed feasts my soul hateth: they are a trouble unto me. I am weary to bear them. And when ye spread forth your hands, I will hide mine eyes from you: yea, when ye make many prayers, I will not hear: your hands are full of blood. Wash you, make you clean; put away the evil of your doings from before mine eyes, cease to do evil; Learn to do well; seek judgment, relieve the oppressed, judge the fatherless, plead for the widow." (Understand that it is not the religious observances here that God hates, as some anti-catholic polemists teach: He ordained them himself. It is the hypocrisy of religion without love.)

Hos 6:6 - "For I desired mercy, not sacrifice; and the knowledge of God more than burnt offerings." (note that the Hebrew word for "know" here is the one for experiential knowledge, not cognitive knowledge. The same one used when Adam knew his wife. So this means having a relationship with God, not studying theology.)

Mic 6:8 - "He hath shewed thee, O man, what is good; and what doth the Lord require of thee, but to do justly, and to love mercy, and to walk humbly with thy God?"

Mark 12:31-34 - "And the scribe said unto him, Well, Master, thou hast said the truth: for there is one God; and there is none other but he: And to love him with all the heart and with all the understanding, and with all the soul, and with all the strength, and to love his neighbour as himself, is more than all whole burnt offerings and sacrifices. And when Jesus saw that he answered discreetly, he said unto him, Thou art not far from the Kingdom of God."

John 14:15 - "If ye love me, keep my commandments."

But in a way, this doesn't help us much with knowing how to walk it out, because it's a bit circular: loving God means obeying him, and obeying him means loving him. It's the other half of the summary of the Law, which Jesus reiterated at the last supper, which allows us to see how to live it.

"A new commandment I give unto you, That ye love one another; as I have loved you, that ye also love one another. By this shall all men know that ye are my disciples, if ye have love one to another." -- John 13:34-35

And he matched these words with deeds, by kneeling down and washing his followers' feet; by breaking bread and sharing the cup with them; by reclining on the couch with the youngest disciple, John, in his arms. And by what happened in the days following. In other words, service, sharing, intimacy, and sacrifice.

But we're not left there to try and work out how to live in love toward one another. Jesus himself gave us more explicit instructions, and the apostles followed suit.

Jesus said:

"Ye have heard that it was said by them of old time, Thou shalt not kill; and whosoever shall kill shall be in danger of the judgment: But I say unto you, That whosoever is angry with his brother without a cause shall be in danger of the judgment: and whosoever shall say to his brother, Raca, shall be in danger of the council: but whosoever shall say, Thou fool, shall be in danger of hell fire. Therefore if thou bring thy gift to the altar, and there rememberest that thy brother hath ought against thee; Leave there thy gift before the altar, and go thy way; first be reconciled to thy brother, and then come and offer thy gift. Agree with thine adversary quickly, whiles thou art in the way with him; lest at any time the adversary deliver thee to the judge, and the judge deliver thee to the officer, and thou be cast into prison. Verily I say unto thee, Thou shalt by no means come out thence, till thou hast paid the uttermost farthing." -- Matt 5:21-26 (emphasis mine)

"Ye have heard that it hath been said, An eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth: But I say unto you, That ye resist not evil: but whosoever shall smite thee on thy right cheek, turn to him the other also. And if any man will sue thee at the law, and take away thy coat, let him have thy cloke also. And whosoever shall compel thee to go a mile, go with him twain. Give to him that asketh thee, and from him that would borrow of thee turn not thou away.
Ye have heard that it hath been said, Thou shalt love thy neighbour, and hate thine enemy. But I say unto you, Love your enemies, bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate you, and pray for them which despitefully use you, and persecute you; That ye may be the children of your Father which is in heaven: for he maketh his sun to rise on the evil and on the good, and sendeth rain on the just and on the unjust. For if ye love them which love you, what reward have ye? do not even the publicans the same? And if ye salute your brethren only, what do ye more than others? do not even the publicans so? Be ye therefore perfect, even as your Father which is in heaven is perfect". -- Matt 5:38-48 (emphasis mine)

"But if ye forgive not men their trespasses, neither will your Father forgive your trespasses." -- Matt 6:15 

"Therefore all things whatsoever ye would that men should do to you, do ye even so to them: for this is the law and the prophets." -- Matt 7:12

"Moreover if thy brother shall trespass against thee, go and tell him his fault between thee and him alone: if he shall hear thee, thou hast gained thy brother." -- Matt 18:15

"Then came Peter to him, and said, Lord, how oft shall my brother sin against me, and I forgive him? till seven times? Jesus saith unto him, I say not unto thee, Until seven times: but, Until seventy times seven.
Therefore is the kingdom of heaven likened unto a certain king, which would take account of his servants. And when he had begun to reckon, one was brought unto him, which owed him ten thousand talents. But forasmuch as he had not to pay, his lord commanded him to be sold, and his wife, and children, and all that he had, and payment to be made. The servant therefore fell down, and worshipped him, saying, Lord, have patience with me, and I will pay thee all. Then the lord of that servant was moved with compassion, and loosed him, and forgave him the debt. But the same servant went out, and found one of his fellowservants, which owed him an hundred pence: and he laid hands on him, and took him by the throat, saying, Pay me that thou owest. And his fellowservant fell down at his feet, and besought him, saying, Have patience with me, and I will pay thee all. And he would not: but went and cast him into prison, till he should pay the debt. So when his fellowservants saw what was done, they were very sorry, and came and told unto their lord all that was done. Then his lord, after that he had called him, said unto him, O thou wicked servant, I forgave thee all that debt, because thou desiredst me: Shouldest not thou also have had compassion on thy fellowservant, even as I had pity on thee? And his lord was wroth, and delivered him to the tormentors, till he should pay all that was due unto him. So likewise shall my heavenly Father do also unto you, if ye from your hearts forgive not every one his brother their trespasses." -- Matt 18:21-35 (emphasis mine)

Paul added:

"Love worketh no ill to his neighbour: therefore love is the fulfilling of the law." -- Rom 13:10

"Walk worthy of the vocation wherewith ye are called, with all lowliness and meekness, with longsuffering, forbearing one another in love; endeavouring to keep the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace." -- Eph 4:1-3

"Put on therefore, as the elect of God, holy and beloved, bowels of mercies, kindness, humbleness of mind, meekness, longsuffering; forbearing one another, and forgiving one another, if any man have a quarrel against any: even as Christ forgave you, so also do ye. And above all these things put on charity, which is the bond of perfectness." -- Col 3:12-14

"Though I speak with the tongues of men and of angels, and have not charity, I am become as sounding brass, or a tinkling cymbal. And though I have the gift of prophecy, and understand all mysteries, and all knowledge; and though I have all faith, so that I could remove mountains, and have not charity, I am nothing. And though I bestow all my goods to feed the poor, and though I give my body to be burned, and have not charity, it profiteth me nothing.
Charity suffereth long, and is kind; charity envieth not; charity vaunteth not itself, is not puffed up, Doth not behave itself unseemly, seeketh not her own, is not easily provoked, thinketh no evil; Rejoiceth not in iniquity, but rejoiceth in the truth; Beareth all things, believeth all things, hopeth all things, endureth all things.
Charity never faileth: but whether there be prophecies, they shall fail; whether there be tongues, they shall cease; whether there be knowledge, it shall vanish away.
For we know in part, and we prophesy in part. But when that which is perfect is come, then that which is in part shall be done away. When I was a child, I spake as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child: but when I became a man, I put away childish things. For now we see through a glass, darkly; but then face to face: now I know in part; but then shall I know even as also I am known.
And now abideth faith, hope, charity, these three; but the greatest of these is charity." -- 1 Cor 13

And the other apostles agreed. Note that every apostle whose epistles we have in the New Testament made an emphatic statement about the importance of love.

James:

"Pure religion and undefiled before God and the Father is this; to visit the fatherless and widows in their affliction, and to keep himself unspotted from the world." -- James 1:27 

Peter:

"And above all things have fervent charity among yourselves: for charity shall cover the multitude of sins." -- 1 Pet 4:8 

John:

"Beloved, let us love one another: for love is of God; and every one that loveth is born of God, and knoweth God. He that loveth not knoweth not God; for God is love. In this was manifested the love of God toward us, because that God sent his only begotten Son into the world, that we might live through him. Herein is love, not that we loved God, but that he loved us, and sent his Son to be the propitiation for our sins. Beloved, if God so loved us, we ought also to love one another. No man hath seen God at any time. If we love one another, God dwelleth in us, and his love is perfected in us. Hereby know we that we dwell in him, and he in us, because he hath given us of his Spirit. And we have seen and do testify that the Father sent the Son to be the Saviour of the world. Whosoever shall confess that Jesus is the Son of God, God dwelleth in him, and he in God. And we have known and believed the love that God hath to us. God is love; and he that dwelleth in love dwelleth in God, and God in him. Herein is our love made perfect, that we may have boldness in the day of judgment: because as he is, so are we in this world. There is no fear in love; but perfect love casteth out fear: because fear hath torment. He that feareth is not made perfect in love. We love him, because he first loved us. If a man say, I love God, and hateth his brother, he is a liar: for he that loveth not his brother whom he hath seen, how can he love God whom he hath not seen? And this commandment have we from him, That he who loveth God love his brother also." -- 1 John 4:7-21

I think it's especially important to note the negative statements here: If you do not love, you do not know God. If you do not forgive, you will not be forgiven by God. If you say you love God, but hate your brother, you are a liar. What is this saying? That the only real evidence that you are a Christian is that you love. "Every one that loveth is born of God, and knoweth God." The word here, of course, is αγάπη. So John is saying that agape is a special Christian kind of love (what the King James calls "charity"), and that only those who have been born of the Spirit can have it. And that if you don't have it, you haven't been born of the Spirit. Some people teach that the evidence of the baptism in the Spirit is speaking in tongues: the Bible says that it's love.

When the sheep and the goats are standing before the judgement seat of Christ in Matthew 25, what does he ask them? 'Did you go to church?' 'Did you have correct liturgy?' 'Did you teach correct doctrine?' 'Was your music program beautiful and reverent?' 'Were you hard-working, thrifty, and diligent?' No. He asks them if they performed acts of love to their fellow-men. Even the working of miracles and performing of signs and wonders isn't good enough, in agreement with Paul in 1 Corinthians 13. Matthew 7 says that many will say to him in that day, "Lord, Lord, have we not prophesied in thy name? and in thy name have cast out devils? and in thy name done many wonderful works? And then will I profess unto them, I never knew you: depart from me, ye that work iniquity."

Now, again, does that mean that any of those things are completely unimportant? Is it not good to work wonders and miracles? To worship reverently? To teach the truth? To work hard, be prudent, and pay your debts? No, those are excellent things. But they're meaningless without love. Love comes first, then everything else has meaning. If you work and save, but do not have love, then you are a miser. If you worship correctly and teach profoundly, but do not have love, you are a hypocrite. If you work wonders but do not have love, you are a magician. Love is the only truth that gives truth to anything else; the only thing that connects us to God and to fellow-men, the only force that has the power to work any true good in the world. It was love that brought down the Roman Empire, the mightiest empire known to man.

"Look, how they love one another; and how they are ready to die for each other" -- Tertullian

What would people say if they looked into our church now?

Beloved, let us love one another, for love is of God, and every one that loveth is born of God.

"Love isn't a state of perfect caring. It's an active noun, like struggle. To love someone is to strive to accept that person exactly as he or she is, right here and now."

-- Fred Rogers

Yeah, that's right: Mr. Rogers. Wise man.

My Life -- The Good Parts

This post is long overdue. It is an addendum to the series I did a while back on my personal history, which focused heavily on the bad things which have happened to me. There was even a special entry devoted to some of the worst things. But I think I need to acknowledge the inscrutable and unfailing love of God and some of the many blessings and mercies he's shown me through the years. And it can also be considered a somewhat belated Thanksgiving post.

The first and foremost thing for which I'm grateful is that God has always been real to me. Why he chose to begin speaking to me at such a young age, I don't know. But I can remember being as young as three or four, and knowing that he was there and that he loved me. I had a little gift new testament that had been given to me on the day of my birth, and even before I could read it, I used to hold it lovingly and leaf through the pages, longing for what was inside. He also made himself real to me in other ways. I have never had any doubt that there is a world beyond this one, because as long as I can remember, I've had spiritual experiences, including dreams that later come true. Not just a feeling of deja-vu, but times when I can remember the dream, remember waking up from it, remember the place and time and circumstances in which I'd had it, and in some cases even having talked to another person about it after waking. And there have been miraculous provisions, answered prayers, and spiritual gifts too numerous to mention. Here are some other instances of God making himself real to me:

I was in my late thirties, seriously overweight, sedentary, recently divorced, a single parent, depressed, physically disabled, overstressed, and overwhelmed. I began having chest pains. Eventually, it got to the point that I went to the emergency room, where they diagnosed me as having a blockage (the thing my father had died of at 44). So they sent me to have a nuclear stress test to confirm it. And it did: I had a serious blockage. So serious, in fact, that they scheduled me for a heart catheterization the very next day. In the middle of the night I was awoken, and a voice in my heart said "pray". I didn't have to ask what about. So I got out of bed, knelt down, and prayed. I didn't actually ask to be healed, but that God's will would be done. But the next day, the procedure showed not only no blockage, but completely clean arteries with no buildup whatsoever. The doctor said I had the arteries of an eighteen-year-old.

The day I had the truck accident which left my leg and back crippled, I wasn't wearing my seatbelt. That same still, small voice which later told me to pray about my heart, told me to put my seatbelt on as I approached the top of the mountain where I was later to crash. I ignored it, thinking it was my own imagination. But it became more insistent. So I did. And it saved my life. When the state trooper came to my hospital room, he handed me my prayer book and bible. He said, "Usually when we have a truck accident, we find false log books and pornography littered all over the place. But here's what we found at yours. There was only one space in that truck in which there was enough space for a human being to exist, and it was where you were sitting. Your God was with you."

Another time, I had recently learned that my uncle had terminal cancer. That same voice awoke me in the night again, saying "pray". I did, and I felt he was telling me to ask for more years for my uncle, like King Hezekiah. So that's what I asked for, and he went unexpectedly into remission and lived a good number of years more, during which time I was able to see him quite a bit. Then another cancer came back and took him very quickly, as if it were just that his time was up and that was it. His last words to me were, "If it wasn't this, something would get me sooner or later. I'm ready to go." He was a Christian, by the way.

Although my marriage was foolish and done in disobedience, both to God's written word and to his explicit leading, I have been blessed with four children who are genuinely good people. They are all four full of love and compassion, devoted to trying to do what is right and honorable, and believers in Christ.

My oldest son, who is the one who is not mine biologically, has been known among his friends since childhood as the one on whom they can always rely: the rock to whom they go in time of need, hurt, or doubt; the one who will show compassion, loyalty, and wisdom when they need him. In fact, Michael earned the nickname "Papa Smurf" years ago because of these qualities. We've had our differences, but a few years back, after he'd been through a tough time, he called me up and said, "Dad, I just want to thank you for the way you raised me."

My second son is the bravest, toughest, and most determined man I know. Not much needs to be said on that head, beyond the fact that he's done three combat tours as an Army infantryman. But that's not all there is to him: he's also kind, compassionate, and sensitive underneath. Going to war is tough on anyone: but it takes a special kind of strength for the sensitive and compassionate soul to endure it without losing himself. Toby told me a story about how once, he sprained his ankle on a ruckmarch (for you civilians, that's kind of like backpacking, but not nearly as much fun). He had something like seven miles to go, and was ready to give up and quit. But, he said, he remembered "all the things I had taught him", and he pushed through: seven miles with a heavy pack, on a sprained ankle. I don't know what I've done to deserve that kind of love and loyalty, but I wasn't the source of those things he'd learned: God was. Oh, and by the way, Toby is also friggin' hilarious.

My older daughter, Bethany, is not only smart, but wise and brave. She's always been the best in the family with things like money, homework, and time-management, on top of being intellectually gifted. But the main thing I'm thankful for is that it is all contained in a person of extraordinary character. Once, when she was swimming with some friends at a lake, a man drowned. His friends, and others there including several men, just stood there paralyzed with panic. But Bethany was one of only two people who dove in the water and swam out to where he was, trying to save him. Unfortunately they didn't get there in time. But that doesn't take away from the courage of the act.

My youngest, Adina, is the most compassionate and caring person I've ever known. I've seen her completely collapse in grief because she accidentally killed a mouse. And she is so gifted as an artist and a writer that I am awed. But she also has courage: a car accident in front of her house sent her running out to help the injured, in spite of her sensitive and squeamish nature, where most people just stand and look.

Also, in regard to that 'marriage', God's mercy followed us even though we were living out of his perfect will. He never fully blessed the marriage, but neither did he totally abandon us: like a parent who is unwilling to fully sanction and support a child's wrong lifestyle, but still helps out when that child really needs it.

I've been blessed with a few true friends throughout the years. My army buddies, Mitch Stein and Steve Richbow. Several people I knew in high school in Belgium, most notably Brian "Zoid" Kelly who's just the best buddy a guy could want, and sweet Michelle Frost. My old pastor, Ray Reynolds, his wife Helen, and their daughter, Ruthie. The guys from my old D&D game in Murfreesboro: Rob Williams and Mike Riley. Rob Sell, who was the only other veteran in our police academy class and who's been a good friend ever since. Jessica Eve, who was the first girl I met when I split from my wife, and ended up becoming one of the best friends I've ever had. And especially Maggie Thrash, who was the only person to stand by me when I was slandered and falsely accused in grad school, and has always been there for me ever since. I'd rather have a few true friends than a lot of false ones.

Another thing I'm deeply thankful for is that, in spite of all my disabilities and disadvantages, my life is really pretty blessed. I mean, compare the pictures you've seen on here of my life to the life that many disabled veterans lead. I have all I need, and even a bit of grace, comfort, and luxury, whereas without God's mercy and blessing I could have been that guy standing on the corner with a cardboard sign.

I'm also thankful for the trials and hard times he's put me through, and the lessons which have come out of them. Especially the recent ones. Although there is still no end or good resolution in sight externally, the degree to which it has all brought me closer to God is nothing short of miraculous.

"The best people possess a feeling for beauty, the courage to take risks, the discipline to tell the truth, the capacity for sacrifice. Ironically, their virtues make them vulnerable; they are often wounded, sometimes destroyed."

-- Ernest Hemingway

C.S. Lewis on Walking

"It's just the opposite of the army. The whole point about the army is that you are never alone for a moment and can never choose where you're going or even what part of the road you're walking on. On a walking-tour you are absolutely detached. You stop where you like and go where you like. As long as it lasts you need consider no one and consult no one but yourself."

Feeling restless, like I need to go walking again. Or something.

By the way, it's my birthday.

"Pray to desire not to be esteemed, not to be secure, and not to be in control."

-- Anonymous Trappist Monk

Grown Adult Actually Expects To Be Happy

Article: "Grown Adult Actually Expects To Be Happy"

-- from "The Onion"

I Know That My Redeemer Liveth (Handel) — Choir of New College, Oxford

Then Job answered and said,
'How long will ye vex my soul, and break me in pieces with words?
These ten times have ye reproached me: ye are not ashamed that ye make yourselves strange to me.
And be it indeed that I have erred, mine error remaineth with myself.
If indeed ye will magnify yourselves against me, and plead against me my reproach:
Know now that God hath overthrown me, and hath compassed me with his net.
Behold, I cry out of wrong, but I am not heard: I cry aloud, but there is no judgment.
He hath fenced up my way that I cannot pass, and he hath set darkness in my paths.
He hath stripped me of my glory, and taken the crown from my head.
He hath destroyed me on every side, and I am gone: and mine hope hath he removed like a tree.
He hath also kindled his wrath against me, and he counteth me unto him as one of his enemies.
His troops come together, and raise up their way against me, and encamp round about my tabernacle.
He hath put my brethren far from me, and mine acquaintance are verily estranged from me.
My kinsfolk have failed, and my familiar friends have forgotten me.
They that dwell in mine house, and my maids, count me for a stranger: I am an alien in their sight.
I called my servant, and he gave me no answer; I intreated him with my mouth.
My breath is strange to my wife, though I intreated for the children's sake of mine own body.
Yea, young children despised me; I arose, and they spake against me.
All my inward friends abhorred me: and they whom I loved are turned against me.
My bone cleaveth to my skin and to my flesh, and I am escaped with the skin of my teeth.
Have pity upon me, have pity upon me, O ye my friends; for the hand of God hath touched me.
Why do ye persecute me as God, and are not satisfied with my flesh?
Oh that my words were now written! oh that they were printed in a book!
That they were graven with an iron pen and lead in the rock for ever!
For I know that my redeemer liveth, and that he shall stand at the latter day upon the earth:
And though after my skin worms destroy this body, yet in my flesh shall I see God:
Whom I shall see for myself, and mine eyes shall behold, and not another; though my reins be consumed within me.
But ye should say, Why persecute we him, seeing the root of the matter is found in me?
Be ye afraid of the sword: for wrath bringeth the punishments of the sword, that ye may know there is a judgment.'

-- Book of Job, chapter 19 

How to Succeed in the Christian Life

"Many of you have been going through frustrations, and problems, and heartaches; and you may be saying, 'God, why?' And I'll tell you one probable reason God has permitted these problems to come in your lives: to show you, you need the Holy Spirit. Every day. Every hour. And every moment. There is no other way to succeed in the Christian life, than to be led by the Holy Spirit."

-- Derek Prince

The Magnificat - John Michael Talbot

In honor of Advent

International Thanksgiving

Yesterday I spent a lovely evening hosting four international students from UVa for their first American Thanksgiving: I made them the traditional feast I've been cooking for my family every Thanksgiving for the past almost 30 years now. Thanks to my dear friend Sister Lynda from church, who came up to help me. We lucked out, getting four bright, pleasant, and interesting guests and hopefully four new friends.

From left to right: Kendrick, from Indonesia; Sema, from Turkey; Tianwei, from China; me; Sr. Lynda; and Josh, also from Indonesia.

I'm going to miss this place when it's sold!

All is as God wills it

That's actually a Muslim proverb. They've got the wrong God in mind, but I'm fond of it, applying it to Yahweh instead of Allah.

I tend to be quite hard on myself. To the point of wondering often if I've messed things up so badly in my life that God isn't going to fix it. Not to say that he can't, but that he won't. There is a principle that God is not always going to save you from the consequences of your own actions, and I look at myself and say, "There's nothing wrong in your life that isn't your own fault. Your suffering is just."

But here are two passages of scripture which he has recently brought to life for me:

For I know the thoughts that I think toward you, saith the LORD, thoughts of peace, and not of evil, to give you an expected end. Then shall ye call upon me, and ye shall go and pray unto me, and I will hearken unto you. And ye shall seek me, and find me, when ye shall search for me with all your heart. And I will be found of you, saith the LORD. 

-- Jeremiah 29:11-14

Blessed be the name of God for ever and ever: for wisdom and might are his:
And he changeth the times and the seasons: he removeth kings, and setteth up kings: he giveth wisdom unto the wise, and knowledge to them that know understanding:
He revealeth the deep and secret things: he knoweth what is in the darkness, and the light dwelleth with him.
Whose dominion is an everlasting dominion, and his kingdom is from generation to generation:
And all the inhabitants of the earth are reputed as nothing: and he doeth according to his will in the army of heaven, and among the inhabitants of the earth: and none can stay his hand, or say unto him, What doest thou?

-- Daniel 2:20-22, 4:34-35

(emphasis mine) 

That is to say, two things.

One, the Lord loves me. Yes, even me. Actually loves me and wants good for me, and not just punishment. Somehow I've still got this horrible dour-faced Calvinist god of my Scots-Irish and Huguenot ancestry somewhere in my mind, who isn't going to lift a finger to help me out of my own folly. "You've made your bed, now lie in it."

And two, nothing is too hard for God. It may seem impossible when regarded from the human viewpoint. It may actually be impossible when regarded from the human viewpoint. But nothing is impossible for God. If it's what he wants to happen, then he knew all the sins and mistakes you were going to commit along the way, and made some provision for it to all work out according to his will and purpose. And he will bring it to fruition, as long as you are doing your best to obey, committing it to him, and trusting in him.

"God doesn't expect you to be perfect. He expects you to be sincere and wholehearted."

-- Derek Prince

"More things are wrought by prayer than this world dreams of."

-- Alfred, Lord Tennyson

"I consider rejection to be the deepest wound of the human spirit." -- Derek Prince


"Not being loved is the worst sickness." -- Mother Theresa

It Is Well With My Soul

Horatio Spafford was a lawyer in Chicago, a supporter of Dwight Moody, a successful real estate investor, and a devoted and active member of his Presbyterian church. He met his wife, Anna, who was fifteen years younger than he was, when she was his student in Sunday school class. He admired her immediately, but waited until she was of age before talking of marriage, and paid for her higher education while he waited.

In 1870, their only son died of scarlet fever. Then in 1871, the Chicago fire destroyed his real estate holdings and wiped him out financially. Two years later, he was delayed by business from accompanying his wife and four daughters on a trip to Europe, and the ship on which they sailed was struck by another ship, sank, and all four daughters drowned. Anna was pulled, unconscious, from the water. When she arrived in Europe, she wired Horatio saying, "Saved alone. What shall I do?"

In the midst of his grief, as he sailed past the spot where all four of his daughters had died, on his way to Europe to fetch his distraught wife, Horatio wrote the hymn above:

When peace like a river attendeth my way
When sorrows like sea billows roar
Whatever my lot, thou hast taught me to say
It is well, it is well, with my soul

Horatio and Anna went on to have three more children, but in 1880 they lost yet another son. Their Presbyterian church, where Horatio had long had enemies due to his doctrinal convictions, condemned them rather than supporting them, saying that it was divine judgement. Pharisaical Calvinists still pass judgement on him today. ("Not Well With His Soul")

So the Spaffords emigrated to Jerusalem with a small contingent, founded the American colony there, and spent the rest of their lives humbly serving God and ministering to others in body and in soul.

*     *     *     *     *

I'd like to tell you of a miracle.

It's no secret that I've been going through hard times. And I've also not tried to hide that I have completely relied upon the Lord throughout. I've laid it all out here for all of you to see: both the moments of rock-solid faith, and the ones of doubt and despair. I've told you my whole life and all its dark corners, confessed that I was in love with someone who does not love me, poured out my griefs when I was falsely accused, abandoned, and ostracized by those who I thought loved me, revealed the deepest thoughts of my heart in poetry and in prose, and posted many, many psalms, songs, poems, and quotes from others which spoke to where I was at that moment. I've also told you in plain language what he had already done, in changing me and filling my heart with his love, but  that I was aware that this was all part of a process which God was still leading me through, for my own healing and restoration, and to draw me closer to himself, Well, God is faithful.

And ye shall seek me, and find me, when ye shall search for me with all your heart. And I will be found of you, saith the LORD

I was walking through a store not long ago, and my attention was drawn to a book. I had never heard of the author, and it had no intellectual appeal to me, but I was moved to buy it; my hand was reaching for it before I even thought about what I was doing, and when I did think about it, I felt the witness of the Spirit that I should. So I did. And I read it.

A day or two later, I opened up Youtube and this author, whom as I said, I had never heard of, much less watched on Youtube, appeared in a suggested video. Intrigued, I clicked on it and started listening as he preached a sermon on the exact same lesson that was contained in the book. 

As if that wasn't enough, a couple of days ago I was reading my bible in bed, as I often do; just following along at the place where I'd left off last time, having nothing to do with the book or the sermon. And as soon as I'd begun reading, I found myself at the very scripture on which the book and the sermon had been based.

So I took the hint. I prayed. And God showed me exactly what I should ask him for. I asked him for it, he granted it, and poof! just like that, everything was different.

The thing is, all through this process; throughout my entire life, in fact, there's been this Thing that has hung over me. As I've told you, I've been working diligently for seven or eight years now, under his guidance, on resolving my issues and getting my life right. But this Thing was always there, way down deep, and I couldn't get at it or even really identify it. But it was the thing that always made me feel like my life was not worth living; that kept me from any kind of real peace or joy; that underlay and informed all my other issues. It was rejection. I had been rejected so often, and starting so young, that it had made itself at home in my soul and wrapped itself around my heart like a serpent, squeezing it almost, but never quite, to death. The thing I feared most in life was more rejection, and, since these kinds of things are so kind, that was the thing that happened to me over, and over, and over again, no matter how hard I tried to prevent it. I didn't even realize that that was what I was doing, but I see clearly now that it was. And at other times in my life, I was rushing to reject other people before they could get me: I even got to the point of rejecting everybody, en masse, for a while, just to be safe.

So anyway, I prayed, the Lord showed me what to do, I did it, and I went to sleep. And slept. Actually slept, all night, without any kind of chemical aid whatsoever. And when I woke up next morning, it was gone: the horrible, crushing weight of sadness that has been with me as long as I can remember was gone. For the first time in my life, I can fully honestly say that I'd rather live than die. And even though nothing has changed in my situation on the outside, I feel like everything has changed. The problems are still there, but I don't feel like they're killing me. All the things I've been confessing and believing by sheer act of will--that God is faithful, that he will work everything out for the best in his time, that I am resigned to whatever is to come; all that--I now truly believe; no, I truly know in my heart.

So that's it. I am fully convinced that I have finally reached the end of my Dark Night of the Soul. Once again, that doesn't mean that I won't be any further tried or tested, or fall or fail, or face any more hardship. I will. But this one is done, and I have a sense that, now that things are where they need to be inside, they're going to start getting better outside too. I don't know exactly what shape that is going to take, but I know it's coming. For the very first time, I am genuinely optimistic about the future.

Non nobis, Domine, non nobis, sed nomen tuo da gloriam.

The Future

As most of you know, I have been deliberating and praying for some time about what to do with the rest of my life. Since I left grad school, the thought of going back has been on my mind, although I knew that if I did it would be in some other field.

I've felt called for a long time to teach, and specifically to teach about the things of God. I'm a good teacher, although when I taught before I wasn't really in love with my subject (which was English, in case you don't know). When I decided to major in English, I did so choosing it as a "practical" and "realistic" alternative to theology. I made the wrong choice. Gee, when has that happened in my life?

Several years ago, before going back to Sewanee for my last and disastrous year of grad school, I thought I felt led to apply to Wheaton to study theology. I didn't, but it's still been there, nagging at me, all this time. And when I was hiking, I thought I heard from the Lord on the subject.

I haven't really shared with you exactly how difficult the Everglades were. I've mentioned that it was a challenge; but the truth is, it was purgatorial. You're wading through deep water, hour after hour after hour, with that heavy pack on, with absolutely no place to stop and sit down and rest, or even to set your pack down for a few minutes. And my poor, crooked back was just aching. In the sun, with absolutely no shade. The mud underfoot is slimy and slippery, and it sucks at your feet like a vacuum, making every step five times as hard as it should be. And you never know how deep the next step is going to be. The hard ground under the mud is some kind of porous rock, so any step could be into a hole that will sink you up to your thigh. The bugs are unbelievable, and there are other things lurking in the swamp. And it stinks. You don't have anywhere to stop and rest, to actually filter your water, so you're just dipping your canteen in the revolting swamp water, hoping you don't get too much of the disgusting semi-decayed biomatter in it, and dropping iodine tablets in to purify it. Your feet are blistered to the point of serious bleeding, and your face, hands, and arms are covered in scratches and cuts from pushing through the knobby cypress tress, and every cut and scratch is infected from the fetid swampwater. And it goes on, and on, and on, and you start to wonder if you're going to reach the one hammock (a sort of island thing that stands up out of the water far enough to be only soggy and not submersed) marked on your map that day, or if you're going to be down in the water after dark, which is, let me tell you, NOT the time you want to be in there, because the gators and snakes can see you but you can't see them. And that's when they hunt. And, by the way, they're attracted to light. And when you finally do reach the hammock at the end of a day that you never thought you'd get through, every other living thing that's not amphibious has crawled up there with you, so you've got to be extra paranoid about bear-bagging your food and all that. And the bugs and spiders are there to keep you company.

Anyway, in the middle of my seventh or eighth day in the swamp, and the third or so of nothing but water and mud, I thought I heard the Lord speak to me. Such times seem to be when he most does--probably has something to do with our ability to hear, like fasting. He said "You've been playing Jonah." And he brought to my mind all the times throughout my life when I'd been headed toward Bible college, or seminary, or theology school, and then changed my mind. And I said "And you've been sending whales after me," as I remembered how every time I had chosen a different path, it had gone terribly wrong. So I asked him "What do you want me to do?" He didn't answer. But I thought about the inclination I'd had to go to Wheaton a few years back, and I said, "Ok, if that's what you want, I'll go; just guide me. And you'll have to come up with the money, because I don't have it and I'm too old to go $50,000 into debt with student loans."

After I came home, I kept that on my prayer list, but didn't really hear any more about it, nor feel any strong inclinations. Also, there was the practical issue that I have neither undergraduate work in the field, nor any academic recommendations whatsoever, as my bridges to Sewanee are burned, and I've completely lost touch with everyone from undergrad, not to mention that it was quite a long time ago.

But at the end of a long period of fasting and prayer which ended recently, I suddenly felt moved to move in that direction. So I checked on the current value of my house, and the estimate is $50,000 more than I owe on the mortgage.

I still wasn't sure. But then, a couple of weeks ago, I was standing in the undercroft fellowship area of my church before the early service, almost alone, sipping coffee. I looked around at all the familiar things: the pictures, the books, the furniture. The kitchen where I'd so loved cooking for the whole parish. And I came within a hair's breadth of bursting into tears, thinking of how happy I'd been there and what a horror it all is now: being hated, reviled, and betrayed by the people I loved most, and tried most to be good and kind to. Accusations of stalking, and of harassing and trying to force unwanted attentions on that poor, sweet girl to whom I'd never wanted to be anything but kind, considerate, generous, and supportive. Suspicious and accusatory looks from other parishoners. Feeling abandoned and neglected and utterly un-cared-for by those to whom I looked for support and guidance. The fear of causing division and dissension within the body, yet needing desperately to talk to someone about it; to know that someone, anyone, actually likes and respects and cares for me, then feeling guilty when I do because I don't want to turn anyone against the people I still love, nor to be guilty of gossip or scandal. And just the emptiness. The horrible, crushing, heart-rending emptiness. After I so loved this place, and felt so at home here, like I'd finally found the Rivendell I'd been searching for all my life, as I wandered through Mirkwood and Mordor. And I just felt that I couldn't go on anymore, hoping that things were going to get better here. I was out of strength, and out of hope, and out of love.

So I'm putting my house on the market. I feel better now: the crisis of faith has bottomed out and I've found victory, spiritually. But I'm still going ahead with the plan, while praying, "Lord, if you want me to go, then send me a buyer. If not, then keep it from selling or send me some other clear sign."

The plan, if the house sells, is to go down to Liberty for a three-semester master's degree in Bible and theology. It's not academically great, but it has no real admission requirements. So I can go there, get a foundation and some recommendations, then apply to Wheaton. And I'll have a year and a half to spend with my daughters, both of whom live in Lynchburg. Also, I won't be too far away from here, so those of you who actually do want to continue to be my friends can see me once in a while. Then it'll be off to Chicago, to do a real master's in theology, majoring in patristics and early church history, then hopefully a Ph.D. there; the doctoral program only admits 6 scholars per year. But I have great confidence in my academic abilities, as well as trust in the Lord that he'll lead me right. After that? Well, I'll be in my early fifties, but that's not that big a deal in an academic career. I can still teach for thirty years or so after that. Unless the Lord has something else planned. But we'll see when we get there.

All of this, like I said, is contingent upon my house selling and my not being clearly led otherwise. So you who love me here, don't mourn yet, and you others, don't rejoice too soon.

Moment of Despair

I made a post the other day, throwing my hands in the air and giving up on everything. I've taken it down now. I hit a low point and had a moment of despair (well, more like a weekend of despair). I was just really, really broken up over the situation in the post below, and then certain people's reactions to it pushed me over the edge.

But I can't give up on love, because then I'd be giving up on God.

I do, I think, have to let some people go out of my life, or at least out of my heart, who have proven themselves repeatedly to not be my friends. But I'll still love and pray for them.

Forgive me, Lord for giving in to despair and almost letting myself be defeated.

An Unpleasant Realization

>>>>>>>NOTE<<<<<<<<<
As noted in another post above, I wrote this at a very low point, when I was ready to give up. Taking into account the spiritual victory I have now received, I now see that this was indeed my hitting rock-bottom: like Peter's denial of Christ. I took it down when I decided to keep on believing and hoping, and posted the retraction above. But now I am reinstating it, since, embarrassing as it is, it was an important part of the journey on which you have all been accompanying me. I've been totally open and honest from the beginning, so why not end that way? 


For the last several years, I've been dedicated to serving the Lord by loving people. As part of the change that led me to that place, I felt like I needed to open myself up to others as well; One can't truly love while being phony, and also it was related to coming out of that place of hard-heartedness and withdrawal that I had been in. In the course of that process, I realized that what I was actually becoming was the person whom I was early on, before all the experiences which drove me into my shell, and whom I had really been all along, way down deep. And so, as I learned to just be myself, to trust the Lord, to love others and let myself be loved, I began to open my heart more and more; to let myself be vulnerable; to even rejoice and revel in that vulnerability.

It meant getting wounded sometimes, but I knew and accepted that. It meant sometimes making people uncomfortable, but I saw that as a possible good: maybe I'd challenge them to have the courage to open themselves up too. It meant a lot of prayer and very honest self-examination, but those things are beneficial, if difficult, and I was happy to do them.

But what I didn't realize was exactly how others took my character and actions.

If you're genuine and sincere, then people call you dramatic.
If you're enthusiastic or excited about things, then you open yourself to ridicule.
If you're open about your thoughts and experiences, then people say "too much information" or that you're out to get attention.
If you're passionate or devoted to anything, then people call you obsessive.
If you dare to truly love someone, then they see you as a creepy stalker.
If you try to help and serve others, then people say that you're needy and desperate.
If you're honest and vulnerable, then they call you manipulative.

In other words, all my efforts to be good, and generous, and loving, and honest, and sincere, and self-sacrificing, and honorable, and gracious, have accomplished nothing but me making a complete and total ass of myself. I feel like a clown. People don't appreciate any of those things. They say they do, but not really. All that really matters is image and social graces. Those things will win you friends and lovers, and the rest will get you nothing in this world but ridicule, suspicion, scorn, and, if you're lucky, pity. I have been lucky in receiving a good deal of pity, which I mistakenly took for friendship and genuine regard. I'm sure that some of the interest people have shown was genuine; but I see now that mostly their interest in me was as an object of curiosity, not as someone they really wanted in their lives.

But I'm done now. My foray into being loving and vulnerable is over. My heart is officially closed for business. Now that I realize what I really am to people, I'm embarrassed and humiliated, and have no desire to continue to cast my pearls before swine. No doubt some of you are reading this and thinking that I'm posting it in order to elicit pity and manipulate someone somehow or other. If you are thinking that, then I guess that makes you one of the aforementioned swine, and I'm not wasting any more time or energy trying to convince you of the truth. I think that most of you who read this genuinely do care about me on some level, but I'm sorry: don't expect to see any more of my soul revealed here. I may continue to post just things that are going on in my life, but only on the surface.

This is not anger, or hostility, or anything like that. The fact is, I'm just exhausted, emotionally, mentally, and spiritually, and I can't do this anymore. I've given and given and given, and I've got nothing left to give. I still care for you all, but there's only so long you can continue to bare your heart and be stabbed in it; there comes a point where you've got to realize that the people to whom you've been exposing your weaknesses are hostile, or at best indifferent, and you've got to react accordingly. And I've reached that point.

On a related subject, I have decided to put my house up for sale and, when and if it sells, go back to school. I may or may not see those of you who have been my friends in this area again. If I don't, thank you and goodbye.

Brittany

I wouldn't tell this story if it had ended like I wanted it to.

Yesterday I was driving home, and saw a woman standing in the median holding a sign. The Spirit of God prompted my heart to help her. I give to beggars and panhandlers often, but not always, and my heart has been growing a bit cold lately because of all I've been dealing with, so I resisted. But He became more insistent. So I said, "If I have to stop at the light up there where she is, I'll give her some money."

The light changed, and I stopped, so I held out my hand with a bill in it. She approached the car, and I saw that her sign said "Need money for a train ticket". I asked her what she needed, and she started to tell me, but we ran out of time, so I told her to meet me at the gas station across the street. I pulled in, parked, asked her if she had eaten, and she said "Not in two days," so we went into Burger King, I bought her a meal, and we sat down and talked.

Brittany's husband met a girl on the internet. He invited to move in with him and when she arrived, they both attacked and beat Brittany and physically threw her out of the house. She'd been living on the street and in the woods for several days, and had hooked up with another homeless girl who had a car, so they'd been sleeping in it (a girl, by the way, whose boyfriend had poured gas on her and set her on fire. I saw the scars). Brittany loves Jesus, and she began to cry as she told me about how she had tried hard to be a loving, supportive, and godly wife to her unbelieving husband, and how she still knew that God was not going to leave her abandoned out here, and as she spoke I understood why He'd been so insistent that I stop and help her: she was one of His children, and she'd cried out to Him for help. So he sent me.

The poor girl was understandably fearful, but I convinced her to go to Walmart with me so I could get her a phone card, so she could receive her train ticket information when I bought it online, and we also got her some food for the night, clean socks and underwear, a jacket, and some personal items. She broke down at the checkout, put her arms around me and just sobbed, and I thought "this is what life is about. Thank you, Lord."

I offered, of course to give her (and her friend) a place to stay and shower for the night, but of course it's not easy to trust some guy you just met, especially after what they'd been through, so they declined, as I'd expected them to. But I had a bad feeling about her being out there, and about her making her train which left early in the morning. But they said they were going to go to the Haven (a shelter) and then to the station the next morning, so that was all I could do. But I couldn't get it out of my mind, so I went back down to where I'd left them with a blanket, because it got cold last night, but they were already gone, so I just went home and prayed for her.

But this morning I started getting phone calls from her husband--from her phone. I don't know how this happened, whether she went with him willingly, what her current condition is, or how to find or contact her, since he's got her phone. But it didn't sound good. I don't have enough to contact the police with, nor even know which agency to contact, since I don't know where they live.

No doubt some of you are assuming I got scammed. But remember, I was a cop, have worked in prison, and have quite a bit of experience ministering to the homeless. I'm pretty good at knowing when I'm being scammed (but sometimes choose to give anyway). This girl's pathos was real, And anyway, it's only money, and I've got more of it than I really need.

So why am I telling you this? I don't normally publicly announce the things I do in service to God and to help others. But I'm telling you so I can ask you to pray for her. Please. And also to get it off my chest. As you may have noticed, I find it very therapeutic to write about the painful things in my life, so that you can read them. I don't know why. Maybe God just made me a writer. Anyway, I'm eaten up with concern and worry for that poor, sweet girl, and also having a bit of a struggle: I was so sure God sent me to help her, and it seems to have ended badly. Did the devil get in? Did I not pray enough? Should I have tried harder to see her safely to somewhere for the night? I wish I'd said, when she hugged my goodbye, the simple words, "I love you, and you are beautiful and precious." But I didn't, and now she may be back in a horrible situation against her will, and her very life may be in danger. So mostly, I'm telling you so that you can pray for her.

Thanks.

"Whosoever is not ready to suffer all things and to stand resigned to the will of his Beloved, is not worthy to be called a lover. He that loveth must willingly embrace all that is hard and bitter, for the sake of his Beloved, and never suffer himself to be turned away by any contrary occurences whatsoever."

-- Thomas a Kempis, The Imitation of Christ

Hear my prayer, O God, and hide not thyself from my petition.
Take heed unto me, and hear me, how I mourn in my prayer, and am vexed.
The enemy crieth so, and the ungodly cometh on so fast; for they are minded to do me some mischief, so maliciously are they set against me.
My heart is disquieted within me, and the fear of death is fallen upon me.
Fearfulness and trembling are come upon me, and an horrible dread hath overwhelmed me.
And I said, "O that I had wings like a dove! for then would I flee away, and be at rest."
Lo, then would I get me away far off, and remain in the wilderness.
I would make haste to escape, because of the stormy wind and tempest.

For it is not an open enemy that hath done me this dishonour; for then I could have borne it;
Neither was it mine adversary that did magnify himself against me; for then peradventure I would have hid myself from him;
But it was even thou, my companion, my guide, and mine own familiar friend.
We took sweet counsel together, and walked in the house of God as friends.

-- Psalm 55:1-8, 12-15


They daily mistake my words; all that they imagine is to do me evil.
They hold all together, and keep themselves close, and mark my steps, when they lay in wait for my soul.

-- Psalm 56:5-6

"Therefore also now, saith the Lord, turn ye even to me with all your heart, and with fasting, and with weeping, and with mourning."

-- Joel 2:12

The True Interior Life of the Saints

"Ah, Lord God, thou holy lover of my soul, when thou comest into my heart, all that is within me shall rejoice. Thou art my glory and the exultation of my heart: thou art my hope and refuge in the day of my trouble.

But because I am as yet weak in love, and imperfect in virtue, I have need to be strengthened and comforted by thee; visit me therefore often, and instruct me with all holy discipline. Set me free from evil passions, and heal my heart of all inordinate affections; that being inwardly cured and thoroughly cleansed, I may be made fit to love, courageous to suffer, steady to persevere.

Love is a great thing, yea, a great and thorough good; by itself it makes every thing that is heavy, light; and it bears evenly all that is uneven. For it carries a burden which is no burden, and makes every thing that is bitter, sweet and tasteful. The noble love of Jesus impels one to do great things,and stirs one up to be always longing for what is more perfect. Love desires to be aloft, and will not be kept back by any thing low and mean. Love desires to be free, and estranged from all worldly affections, that so its inward sight may not be hindered; that it may not be entangled by any temporal prosperity, or by any adversity subdued. Nothing is sweeter than love, nothing more courageous, nothing higher, nothing wider, nothing more pleasant, nothing fuller nor better in heaven and earth; because love is born of God, and cannot rest but in God, above all created things.

He that loveth, flyeth, runneth, and rejoiceth; he is free, and cannot be held in. He giveth all for all, and hath all in all; because he resteth in One highest above all things, from whom all that is good flows and proceeds. He respecteth not the gifts, but turneth himself above all goods unto the Giver. Love often times knoweth no measure, but is fervent beyond all measure. Love feels no burden, thinks nothing of trouble, attempts what is above its strength, pleads no excuse of impossibility; for it thinks all things lawful for itself and all things possible. It is therefore able to undertake all things, and it completes many things, and warrants them to take effect, where he who does not love, would faint and lie down.

Love is watchful, and sleeping slumbereth not. Though weary, it is not tired; though pressed, it is not straitened; though alarmed, it is not confounded; but as a lively flame and burning torch, it forces its way upwards, and securely passes through all. If any one love, he knoweth what is the cry of this voice. For it is a loud cry in the ears of God, the pure ardent affection of the soul, when it saith, 'My God, my love, thou art all mine, and I am all thine.'

Enlarge thou me in love, that with the inward palate of my heart I may taste how sweet it is to love, and to be dissolved, and as it were to bathe myself in thy love. Let me be possessed by love, mounting above myself, through excessive fervor and admiration. Let me sing the song of love, let me follow thee, my Beloved, on high; let my soul spend itself in thy praise, rejoicing through love. Let me love thee more than myself, nor love myself but for thee: and in thee all that truly love thee, as the law of love commandeth, shining out from thyself.

Love is active, sincere, affectionate, pleasant and amiable; courageous, patient, faithful, prudent, longsuffering, resolute, and never seeking itself. For in whatever instance one seeketh oneself, there he falleth from love. Love is circumspect, humble, and upright: not yielding to softness, or to levity, nor attending to vain things; it is sober, chaste, steady, quiet, and guarded in all the senses. Love is subject, and obedient to its superiors, to itself mean and despised, unto God devout and thankful, trusting and hoping always in Him, even then when God imparteth no relish of sweetness unto it: for without sorrow, none liveth in love.

-- Thomas à Kempis, The Imitation of Christ

"This is truly the life of the saints. We are called to it, for we are all called to the life of heaven where there will be only saints. In order to attain it, we must sanctify all the acts of our day, remembering that above the succession of daily deeds, whether pleasurable or painful, foreseen or unforeseen, there is the parallel series of actual graces which are granted to us from moment to moment that we may draw the best spiritual profit from these daily deeds. If we think about this, we shall no longer see these acts only from the point of view of the senses, or from that of our reason which is more or less led astray by self-love, but from the supernatural point of view of faith. Then these daily deeds, whether pleasurable or painful, will become the practical application of the doctrine of the Gospel, and gradually an almost continual conversation will be established between Christ and us. This will be the true interior life, as it were, eternal life begun."

-- Reginald Garrigou-Lagrange, O.P., The Three Ages of the Interior Life (in reference to the above)

“It is not time or opportunity that is to determine intimacy;—it is disposition alone. Seven years would be insufficient to make some people acquainted with each other, and seven days are more than enough for others.”

― Jane Austen, Sense and Sensibility

M60 Patton Main Battle Tank

Here's a cool thing. I especially like the shots from the loader's position; loading was the job I enjoyed most: it's the most active inside the tank, and also you're the one who's usually going to jump out and to things like LPOP and perimeter patrol. And on the M1, you've got your own .30 cal machine gun to fire when you're not loading the main gun. The really fun thing about it is when that breech block comes back when the main gun is fired, anything of yours that you might have in its way is coming off.

Gotta say, though, this Marine crew is kinda lame: they're averaging 9 seconds between shots on the main gun. A good Army crew can get off a shot every 4-6 seconds. One of their mistakes is that the loader is using his hand to knock that spent casing to the floor (this is to stop it bouncing around). We let it hit the back guard and take one bounce, and then stomped it with our foot as we loaded the next round into the breech. Saves a few seconds. Also, the announcer guy is wrong at the beginning: he says ".50 caliber machine-gun fire" but if you listen, you can hear two different types of machine-gun: the commander's .50 cal and the coaxial (mounted alongside the main gun) .30 cal, controlled by the gunner.

"Then first I knew the delight of being lowly; of saying to myself, 'I am what I am, nothing more.' 'I have failed,' I said, 'I have lost myself--would it had been my shadow.' I looked round: the shadow was nowhere to be seen. Ere long, I learned that it was not myself, but only my shadow, that I had lost. I learned that it is better, a thousand-fold, for a proud man to fall and be humbled, than to hold up his head in pride and fancied innocence. I learned that he that will be a hero, will barely be a man; that he that will be nothing but a doer of his work, is sure of his manhood...

"...Another self seemed to arise, like a white spirit from a dead man, from the dumb and trampled self of the past. Doubtless, this self must again die and be buried, and again, from its tomb, spring a winged child...Self will come to life even in the slaying of self; but there is ever something deeper and stronger than it, which will emerge last from the unknown abyss of the soul."

-- George MacDonald, Phantastes