"Get into the habit of saying, 'Speak, Lord,' and life will become a romance. Every time circumstances press, say, 'Speak, Lord'; make time to listen. Chastening is more than a means of discipline, it is meant to get us to a place of saying, 'Speak, Lord.'"

-- Oswald Chambers

Quarter-Way

Halfway to my goal of 30 pounds by the end of February--15 pounds lost since Epiphany! Well, Almost-Epiphany, anyway: I started the day before, since it was a Monday. And that's halfway to the halfway of my actual, final goal weight. Managed to lose 2 pounds yesterday even though I cooked homemade, not-at-all low-fat, low-carb, or low-calorie chicken pot pie for the church and had a bit myself.

"In a man's letters, you know madam, his soul lies naked."

-- Samuel Johnson

Feminine Courage

"An eighteen-year old boy is carried into the shock ward. And he looks up at me trustingly and says, 'How am I doing, nurse?' I just kiss his forehead and say, 'You're doing just fine, soldier.' He smiles sweetly and says, 'I was just checking.' Then he dies.

We all cry in private. But not in front of the boys. Never in front of the boys."

-- June Wandry, WWII combat nurse

"Figure out the price of what you want. Then pay it."

-- Judge Thrash

Fitness Update

I finally broke through the 250 pound barrier this week. I'd been stalled for months after a period of extended fasting and prayer and then the holidays, bouncing up and down, losing the same ten pounds over and over again. After Twelfth Night, I set a goal for myself to lose 30 pounds by the end of February, but it looks like I may actually surpass it if I can keep up this pace.

Here ya go, Maggie:

This 230 goal is the final milestone before actual goal weight: 200. At which point, I'll look like this:

Minus the hair. And the adamantium claws.

Courtney Reid "Glory Bound"

As I lay me down to sleep
On the lonely ground beneath my feet
Does anyone know, does anyone care
I'm sinking deep.

I've almost taken life from me
Like living in a cold dark angry sea
Feel like giving up, giving in
What will be will be, but I remember

You said, you said, I'm a priest in the kingdom at heavens sound
You said, you said, I'm heir to the throne and I'm glory bound
You're always giving love to me

Something pulled me up to breathe
Like a life boat sent to rescue me
You never give up, you're always lettin me in
Loose the chains I'm free.

My heart ache beats all night long
Your voice rings out redemption song
I hear it load and clear I'm outa here
I'm moving on

Intense /inˈtens/ (adj.)

1. A word used by people who are afraid of emotion to shame and embarrass anyone who dares to show any.

The Cure - Pictures Of You

How to Talk About Your Unconventional Background in a Conventional World

Good Lord, I could have used this advice about a million times in my life.

The Art of Manliness: How to Talk About Your Unconventional Background in a Conventional World

Favorite snippets:

"Today’s working world tends to reward people who live plain vanilla, cookie-cutter lives. Anyone who has an “unorthodox” background outside of the norms tends to be written off, or at a minimum, faces an uphill battle explaining their background to potential employers, landlords, and possible future in-laws."

"5. Be Vulnerable and Share Your Insecurities
Whenever you share stories about your unusual background, it might put others on the defensive, especially if your background is so sensational or unusual that simply talking about your achievements sounds like bragging. If your experiences seem amazing (especially in comparison to others’ mundane lives), you might inspire some jealousy."

"Ultimately, your past background or experiences are insignificant. What matters the most is what you make of it, and if you are able to connect with people and have them relate to your story."

That last one is what people need to understand about people with "unconventional backgrounds". It's just their lives to them: it's not that big of a deal. People think you're bragging, or lying, so you eventually learn to try not to bring it up. But really, you're just talking about your life, like everyone else does. Most of the time, you're not even thinking about how sensational it probably sounds to others. It's just stuff that you did, and it always sounds cooler than it really was. Like Harry Potter said:

"Listen to me!" said Harry, almost angrily, because Ron and Hermione were both smirking now. "Just listen to me, all right? It sounds great when you say it like that, but all that stuff was luck -- I didn't know what I was doing half the time, I didn't plan any of it, I just did whatever I could think of, and I nearly always had help --"'
Ron and Hermione were still smirking and Harry felt his temper rise; he wasn't even sure why he was feeling so angry.
"Don't sit there grinning like you know better than I do, I was there, wasn't I?" he said heatedly. "I know what went on, all right? And I didn't get through any of that because I was brilliant at Defense Against the Dark Arts, I got through it all because -- because help came at the right time, or because I guessed right -- but I just blundered through it all, I didn't have a clue what I was doing -- STOP LAUGHING!"
The bowl of Murtlap essence fell to the floor and smashed. He became aware that he was on his feet, though he couldn't remember standing up. Crookshanks streaked away under a sofa. Ron and Hermione's smiles had vanished.
"You don't know what it's like! You -- neither of you -- you've never had to face him, have you? You think it's just memorizing a bunch of spells and throwing them at him, like you're in class or something? The whole time you're sure you know there's nothing between you and dying except your own -- your own brain or guts or whatever -- like you can think straight when you know you're about a nanosecond from being murdered, or tortured, or watching your friends die -- they've never taught us that in their classes, what it's like to deal with things like that -- and you two sit there acting like I'm a clever little boy to be standing here, alive, like Diggory was stupid, like he messed up -- you just don't get it, that could just as easily have been me, it would have been if Voldemort hadn't needed me --" J.K. Rowling

Schubert - Ständchen

Leise flehen meine Lieder
Durch die Nacht zu dir;
In den stillen Hain hernieder,
Liebchen, komm zu mir!

Flüsternd schlanke Wipfel rauschen
In des Mondes Licht;
Des Verräters feindlich Lauschen
Fürchte, Holde, nicht.

Hörst die Nachtigallen schlagen?
Ach! sie flehen dich,
Mit der Töne süßen Klagen
Flehen sie für mich.

Sie verstehn des Busens Sehnen,
Kennen Liebesschmerz,
Rühren mit den Silbertönen
Jedes weiche Herz.

Laß auch dir die Brust bewegen,
Liebchen, höre mich!
Bebend harr' ich dir entgegen!
Komm, beglücke mich!

Grace and Gratitude

Grace: God doesn't give us what we deserve. He gives us what he wants us to have.

Gratitide: There is no word, thought, feeling, or action sufficient to express my thanks for that; so I make myself his slave and devote myself entirely, body, soul, and spirit, to obeying him.

"Hallelujah"

It isn't easy, being an Ogre.

A Year Ago Today

...I stepped off the ferry in Key West and began my little walk.

Roy Orbison - Crying

His Solitude With Us

When God gets us alone by affliction, heartbreak, or temptation, by disappointment, sickness, or by thwarted affection, by a broken friendship, or by a new friendship--when He gets us absolutely alone, and we are dumbfounded, and cannot ask one question, then He begins to expound. Watch Jesus Christ's training of the twelve. It was the disciples, not the crowd outside, who were perplexed. They constantly asked Him questions, and He constantly expounded things to them; but they only understood after they had received the Holy Spirit (see John 14:26).

If you are going on with God, the only thing that is clear to you, and the only thing God intends to be clear, is the way He deals with your own soul. Your brother's sorrows and perplexities are an absolute confusion to you. We imagine we understand where the other person is, until God gives us a dose of the plague of our own hearts. There are whole tracts of stubbornness and ignorance to be revealed by the Holy Spirit in each one of us, and it can only be done when Jesus gets us alone. Are we alone with Him now, or are we taken up with fussy little notions, fussy comeradeships in God's service, fussy ideas about our bodies? Jesus can expound nothing until we get through all the noisy questions of the head and are alone with Him.
-- Oswald Chambers, My Utmost for His Highest

Nothin'

10 Health Benefits of Whiskey

I knew it!


www.theluxuryspot.com/10-health-benefits-of-whiskey/

Summer Snow

I hadn't heard this song in many years, but it's so beautiful. Written by Keith Green, but he let his friend Matthew Ward record it instead, and even played piano for him on the recording. The return of Christ has always held a special place in my heart.

Found a Treasure

...today at the antique store.

Extensive historical anthology of European poetry. Dated 1871 and edited by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow who, I daresay, knew his business.

Looking forward to many hours of enjoyment from this for years to come.

Lamento di Tristano - La Rotta

Medieval music is so seldom done well. But this is haunting and beautiful--makes me want to mount my destrier and ride out on errantry.

Jacqueline du Pré - Fauré Elégie in C minor Op. 24

We're not related. At least, if we are it's from somewhere back in the Middle Ages. But she's my absolute favorite cellist, and this is my favorite piece of hers. She's so expressive and her performances have so much color and texture. She was criticized by the Stodgies back in her day for being "too emotional" and "undignified" because of the way she flung her hair about and let her whole self become part of the music. People of that mindset which only values technique and power and which, to my taste, results in rather ugly music. Probably had something to do with sex: one generation or so removed from a time when the fashion was to prefer castrati to actual women singing. I personally prefer a woman's touch on the strings.

Her story has rather a sad ending: she contracted MS and had to stop playing at only 28, and died at 42.