40 pages and worth every one of them

What is happening with his leg?

I recently read Peter Abelard's Historia Calamitatum, which I was interested in because of his notorious incident with Heloise; theoretically, he sets out to give a short account of the hardships of his life for the supposed edification of his reader. In reality, however, the thing is so melodramatic that roughly half the reviews on Goodreads give it five stars for sheer self-important comedy. You know it's going to be good when this is one of the opening sentences:

This I do so that, in comparing your sorrows with mine, you may discover that yours are in truth nought, or at the most but of small account, and so shall you come to bear them more easily.

I'm going to go out on a limb and say that he was a glass-half-empty kind of guy.

 

Anyway, what made me really giggle was a passage that came later on, when he describes the unmitigated joy of presiding over a congregation monastery.

No one, methinks, could fail to understand how persistently that undisciplined body of monks, the direction of which I had thus undertaken, tortured my heart day and night, or how constantly I was compelled to think of the danger alike to my body and to my soul. I held it for certain that if I should try to force them to live according to the principles they had themselves professed, I should not survive.

Those Mondays are just killers.

Staying alive

At some point during the last few months, the thought occurred to me that this business of living in quarantine during a global pandemic is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to read Boccaccio's Decameron. It was always a text I was interested in, particularly for the influence it had on Chaucer (and to go rather niche, Marguerite de Navarre), but I'd never felt drawn to it until now. My husband has several preexisting conditions which make Covid 19 more dangerous for us, and so the sense of isolation, uncertainty, loss, and - in the cases of New York and Italy, horror - feel like common experiences linking this to the past. From what I understand, Boccaccio is considered an important source for our information on what the Black Death was like, and although our current pandemic is thankfully a much less severe phenomenon than his, it's eerie to see all the parallels between what happened then and what is ongoing now. I always thought that quarantines and large-scale diseases were inherently old-fashioned things, and it just seems so bizarre to be living though one today.

Anyway, one significant theme throughout the stories in the Decameron is the question of how we grapple with the devastating consequences of sin in the church - whether institutionally in leaders or personally in laypeople. Recent years have been a challenge in this arena for me, between getting caught in the middle of an ecclesiastical disaster and witnessing the increasing polarization of Christianity in politics. I've seen hatred on both individual and corporate levels that I never realized was possible in the church, especially in the response to the current pandemic. All of that tends to get you feeling pretty hopeless about the present state of affairs, but, as you see in the late medieval church, widespread sin is nothing new for us. During the first day of Boccaccio's collection, there's a story about a Jewish businessman who converts to Christianity after visiting Rome, and his explanation for it seemed as timely as ever.

After Abraham had rested for a few days, Jehannot asked him what sort of opinion he had formed about the Holy Father and the cardinals and the other members of the papal court. Whereupon the Jew promptly replied:

'A bad one, and may God deal harshly with the whole lot of them. And my reason for telling you so is that, unless I formed the wrong impression, nobody there who was connected with the Church seemed to me to display the slightest sign of holiness, piety, charity, moral rectitude or any other virtue. On the contrary, it seemed to me that they were all so steeped in lust, greed, avarice, fraud, envy, pride, and other like sins and worse (if indeed that is possible), that I regard the place as a hotbed for diabolical rather than devotional activities. As far as I can judge, it seems to me that your pontiff, and all of the others too, are doing their level best to reduce the Christian religion to nought and drive it from the face of the earth, whereas they are the very people who should be its foundation and support.

'But since it is evident to me that their attempts are unavailing, and that your religion continues to grow in popularity, and become more splendid and illustrious, I can only conclude that, being a more holy and genuine religion than any of the others, it deservedly has the Holy Ghost as its foundation and support. So whereas earlier I stood firm and unyielding against your entreaties and refused to turn Christian, I now tell you quite plainly that nothing in the world could prevent me from becoming a Christian. Let us therefore go to the church where, in accordance with the traditional rite of your holy faith, you shall have me baptized.'

(Boccaccio, Decameron, pp. 40-41)

Thankful that God grows and nurtures the church despite its best efforts.

Goodnight

 

Love built a stately house; where Fortune came,

And spinning phansies, she was heard to say,

That her fine cobwebs did support the frame,

Whereas they were supported by the same:

But Wisdome quickly swept them all away.

Then Pleasure came, who, liking not the fashion,

Began to make Balcones, Terraces,

Till she had weakned all by alteration:

But rev’rend laws, and many a proclamation

Reformed all at length with menaces.

Then enter’d Sinne, and with that Sycomore,

Whose leaves first sheltred man from drought & dew,

Working and winding slily evermore,

The inward walls and sommers cleft and tore:

But Grace shor’d these, and cut that as it grew.

Then Sinne combin’d with Death in a firm band

To raze the building to the very floore:

Which they effected, none could them withstand.

But Love and Grace took Glorie by the hand,

And built a braver Palace then before.

George Herbert - “The World”

In which I orate

Apparently reading a different VanDrunen book each year has become a tradition for me:

“According to Scripture...marriage is an exalted state. But it is not the only God-pleasing state in which we can live. While the church does well to affirm marriage and childbearing, it often does a disservice to many of its members by marginalizing the nonmarried and the childless. This can happen in various ways. For example, it can happen when churches advertise themselves as being family friendly or as supporting family values, even when many of their members do not have a family, at least not a spouse or children. It can happen when churches treat unmarried adults simply as those who are not yet married, as if their lives are in a holding pattern until marriage brings meaning to them. It can happen when Christians segregate their social lives, as if the people who are married with children should primarily associate with each other and unmarried people with each other (and, when they do mingle, by people talking incessantly about their children as if those without children find such conversations just as fascinating as they do). It can happen when Christians raise girls as if being a wife and mother is the only worthy goal to pursue in life, such that those who do not marry and have children feel that they have somehow failed and are unprepared to find valuable things to do.” 

(Bioethics and the Christian Life, p. 100)

I’ve long been convinced that this is one of the ways the Church today often falls into profound self-destruction. Every one of VanDrunen’s examples has been deeply relatable for me, not only in the local church but the culture of Christianity at large. Touting ourselves as “family friendly” does at least as much harm as the good it believes itself to do, because doing so marginalizes the very demographic that Scripture itself claims is most physically able to serve the church. Furthermore, identifying ourselves primarily by “family values” is indicative of an underlying social gospel - “moral” conduct is now more important than purity of worship or theological integrity. It’s impossible to get the “practical” aspects of Christian living right if we don’t understand them as a product of God-glorifying doxology and doctrine first; failure to do so leads to legalism and, often, abuse.

The best examples of church life I have witnessed were cases in which the church’s theology and worship flowed into proper relationships between members of the congregation; single people in particular were valued for their own sake. They were not treated as inconvenient problems to be solved, second-class adults waiting to finally “grow up,” and they were neither patronized nor exploited. They were seen as individuals who had something to offer to the rest, and were encouraged to maximize these abilities. The fruit of such an attitude played out in the singles’ active involvement in church life. The church needed them. I can’t help but think how much more our churches could flourish if they shared this attitude.

Living in the church for 24 years, I have witnessed how a change in an individual's relationship status can launch - overnight - a flurry of invitations and overtures of friendship which had previously never been offered. This kind of thing can't go on. If there is only one practical takeaway from this post, let it be this: Treat singles as equals (because that's exactly what they are before God).

Shall thy work decay?

Lately, I've learned how easy it is to read this sonnet from a corporate point of view. The pain and tangible sense of struggle is visceral.

Thou hast made me, and shall thy work decay?
Repair me now, for now mine end doth haste,
I run to death, and death meets me as fast,
And all my pleasures are like yesterday;
I dare not move my dim eyes any way,
Despair behind, and death before doth cast
Such terror, and my feeble flesh doth waste
By sin in it, which it t'wards hell doth weigh;
Only thou art above, and when towards thee
By thy leave I can look, I rise again;
But our old subtle foe so tempteth me,
That not one hour my self I can sustain;
Thy Grace may wing me to prevent his art,
And thou like Adamant draw mine iron heart.

(John Donne, Holy Sonnet #1)

Thankful for God's answer of a resounding "NO" in Romans 8. The trials we undergo do not hamper His kingdom but ultimately strengthen it. Nothing will stop Him from working out our salvation, or, by extension, the good of the Church. We survive by holding onto His promises.

"For in hope we have been saved, but hope that is seen is not hope; for who hopes for what he already sees? But if we hope for what we do not see, with perseverance we wait eagerly for it." (Romans 8.24-25)

Fangirling

"It is no part of my nature, most learned Wolfgang, to be excessively fond of life; whether it is that I have, to my own mind, lived nearly long enough, having entered my fifty-first year, or that I see nothing in this life so splendid or delightful that it should be desired by one who is convinced by the Christian faith that a happier life awaits those who in this world earnestly attach themselves to piety. But at the present moment I could almost wish to be young again, for no other reason but this, that I anticipate the approach of a golden age..." (Letter to Capito, 1517)

While I don't share Erasmus's utopian optimism, this passage has been on my mind during the past few days, and in reality, these last few years, as I've watched plans unfold for the creation of a Reformed Baptist seminary. Hearing it has finally been approved has been the highlight of my week. Listening to the generation ahead of me speak of their zeal for the project, it's easy to pick up on a sense of wistfulness in their voices: they know that they will only see its beginnings - it is very much a work of faith. My peers and I have been given a tremendous privilege in being able both to participate (in various ways) in its beginning and perhaps live to see these efforts pay off in an established institution with a ministerial/academic legacy. I can't help but feel that we are witnessing the beginning of an exiting time in RB history, with church planting expanding and education becoming more and more available. What a time to be alive.

Femina contra mundum

So I indulged in a bit of narcissism and was reading through my posts, and I realized that I've kind of become that person I said I hated back in July. All I talk about is school. Granted, it takes up the majority of my time and almost all of my mental capacities at the moment, but it's still not the only relevant thing going on in my life.

For what will probably be the only time I will ever do this, on my blog, in public, and which I might delete at any given post-publication moment, I think I'm going to talk about one of my most hated subjects: my relationship status. It's only come up twice in the nearly-eight years I've been writing here, and I've worked hard to keep it that way. This blog is not a kumbaya care-and-share extravaganza. In nicer words, it just feels unprofessional and unproductive. Yeah, I already hate myself for posting this.

I'm making this exception, though, because of a sobering conversation I had with one of my most trusted friends. We were talking about our generation of Reformed Baptists, and how we've both encountered a disturbing amount of peers who say they are committed to our confession, but don't really live it out. My friend remarked that if you're a genuinely confessional female, and you're interested in marriage, the chances are you will end up being the spiritual leader in the relationship. That really bothers me.

I guess I'm writing this post as a kind of defiance. For several years, I struggled with contentment and finding my place in the sociology of the church. I learned that in most of the times I dealt with anxiety, the root of my unhappiness didn't lie in the circumstances of my life at the moment, but in the fear of losing the happiness I currently enjoyed. The Bible talks about how singles have it really good. I can finally attest to this in my own life: I'm in grad school with promising research opportunities, I'm surrounded by a close circle of family and friends, I'm involved in a solid church, and I have the ability to do reckless stuff like last minute trips or impromptu social events during the week. Why on earth would I give up this freedom for a relationship in which I'd never be able to shake the feeling that I've betrayed the essence of who I am? If that is the reality of marriage for a Reformed Baptist young woman, it is not worth it to me. I could never truly love someone I don't respect; it doesn't work.

I know the readership of this blog is minuscule, to say the least. But if for some reason, some young girl is out there and finds this: Please, don't throw away your spiritual and intellectual integrity for love. It sounds lovely and romantic and fearless, but it's only capitulation. Hold out for someone you love and respect.

The Reformed Baptist movement is still fragile in many ways. On a human level, our future depends upon the faithfulness of the young men and women emerging in its churches today. We rightly pray for future pastors, but we need to pray for committed laity as well. We need boys who man up and live disciplined lives, and girls who recognize the vital role women play in the church. To my fellow young adults: The Christian life is about glorifying God and serving his kingdom. Some of you will be fortunate enough to find spouses who share your commitment. But, for others, this is going to mean choosing between marriage and our beliefs. Are we willing to make that decision?

On being young, restless, and reformed

A few years ago I came across this passage, and even though it's kind of an aside, God used it to minister to my soul. It's become one of my favorite passages in the Bible.

Now Moses used to take the tent and pitch it outside the camp, a good distance from the camp, and he called it the tent of meeting. And everyone who sought the Lord would go out to the tent of meeting which was outside the camp. And it came about, whenever Moses went out to the tent, that all the people would arise and stand, each at the entrance of his tent, and gaze after Moses until he entered the tent. Whenever Moses entered the tent, the pillar of cloud would descend and stand at the entrance of the tent; and the Lord would speak with Moses. When all the people saw the pillar of cloud standing at the entrance of the tent, all the people would arise and worship, each at the entrance of his tent. Thus the Lord used to speak to Moses face to face, just as a man speaks to his friend. When Moses returned to the camp, his servant Joshua, the son of Nun, a young man, would not depart from the tent.

Exodus 33:7-11

The older I get (and I'm not even old enough for that to sound like a serious sentence opener), the more I understand why older Christians get so jazzed when they see or talk about young people faithfully attending church. I think I always assumed that any self-respecting church member would be there when the doors were open. Oh yeah, I even wrote about it. Why turn something I had been raised to do since infancy into something nigh heroic?

Then I went to college. So naive. So precious.

All of the sudden I was the one tempted to shave off Wednesday nights, or give mom looks when we were staying too long, or sleep in during Sunday school after being up till 3 the night before. All of the sudden I was rethinking my doctrinal commitments because of the spell of new and previously foreign relationships I was experiencing. All of the sudden I was the person I had been judging this entire time.

And then, after God sent me a wake up call and snapped me out of that funk, I got the chance to truly live on my own for the first time. I had my first experience of "adulting" at church. All of the new friends I made were there because they wanted to be there. There were no parents or rules or precedents. Instead, there were lots of deadlines and homework and social expectations. But you know what? Most of these twenty-somethings made it to church every Sunday. And most of them made it to the midweek student Bible study. And a respectable amount of them were involved in various ministries in the congregation. We're talking PhD students in one of the most prestigious, and therefore demanding, universities in the world. And they never missed church.

Heck, that's understating it. They were devoted to church.

That's when I learned how beautiful that kind of thing is. When I saw these faithful (young) people at church, I was seeing Joshua standing by the tent of meeting. They understood how crucially important meeting together was for successfully taking on the pressures and temptations of the upcoming week. They understood that communing with God together was the best way to spend time with their friends.

We need more young people like that.

A year ago, I would have ended this post with Ecclesiastes 12:1: "Remember also your Creator in the days of your youth...." After reading the subsequent paragraph, though, I've realized how relevant the whole passage is to this situation. When my week isn't anchored in corporate worship, things get funky. When my heart isn't truly in it, my faith weakens and everything gets a little existential.

Remember also your Creator in the days of your youth, before the evil days come and the years draw near when you will say, “I have no delight in them”; before the sun and the light, the moon and the stars are darkened, and clouds return after the rain; in the day that the watchmen of the house tremble, and mighty men stoop, the grinding ones stand idle because they are few, and those who look through windows grow dim; and the doors on the street are shut as the sound of the grinding mill is low, and one will arise at the sound of the bird, and all the daughters of song will sing softly. Furthermore, men are afraid of a high place and of terrors on the road; the almond tree blossoms, the grasshopper drags himself along, and the caperberry is ineffective. For man goes to his eternal home while mourners go about in the street. Remember Him before the silver cord is broken and the golden bowl is crushed, the pitcher by the well is shattered and the wheel at the cistern is crushed; then the dust will return to the earth as it was, and the spirit will return to God who gave it. “Vanity of vanities,” says the Preacher, “all is vanity!”

Milwaukee

So I've been back in the States for 5 days. Feeling restless. Feeling the culture shock.

• Instead of walking the mile and a half to the grocery store, we drive it.
• I can't shake the sense that I'm a visitor in my home (but not because my family hasn't been welcoming).
• The oldest building around here was built in the mid-19th century.
• They drink the beer cold.
• You could fit a neighborhood inside Target.
• Almost everyone I know is a white, middle class American born on this continent.
• Everybody has so much stuff. America is unbelievably wealthy.
• My bedroom is larger than some of my British friends' living rooms.

Everything looks the same as it always was, yet completely different. Maybe as the months go by, I'll feel fully at home here again. But something tells me this is what long-term traveling does to you...you leave a part of yourself behind, and it's replaced with all the perspective, values, and relationships you picked up while you were away. You see everything (and everyone) with outside eyes. Still figuring out what to make of it. But I think it's good.

What makes me happy, though, is meeting up with my best friends. Some of us talked every day, and others, barely at all. But regardless of that, each reunion has been as if nothing has changed. Despite how bewildering it kind of is to be back, these people remind me why I'm committed to being here. Especially with church. Having met so many young Reformed people in the UK who feel called to build the church in their various home countries, it makes me appreciate my own American friends all the more. It's making me see that we are the future of the church here. I'm feeling the weight of our responsibility. Responsibility is good. Hard, overwhelming, dangerous, yes. But also a blessing from God. He is using us to build His church.

So as sad as I am to no longer be in the UK, I am satisfied in knowing that I am exactly where God wants me to be. Faith comes in where His will seems scary or lonely or difficult. It's always worth it.

Besides, living back in the States means I get to wake up and to see this every morning:

advinkdsvjkdsvhvhdsjkvndskjvdshhfdyfjsdvnsd I MISSED MY ROOM SOO MUCH.

Coming to an end

It seems like yesterday I was writing this post. Now, next week I'll be back home running around in Milwaukee. Where did the time go?


At the Roman Baths....in Bath

So far, 2015 has been very good to me. I've seen some of the most beautiful and important places in the world, lived in an amazing community of godly people, and most importantly, learned to trust God in ways I never understood before. Being here has felt like living in Palace Beautiful in Pilgrim's Progress. Coming over to England, I was most excited to see all the places I'd only come across in books. Leaving for America, I'm most reluctant to leave behind all the people I've come to love. All of the effort I've spent on getting into college, being accepted into the honors program, and studying abroad would still all be worth it if its only impact on my life was to bring me to the people here.


Wales is the most underrated country...ever

Being on your own in a country an ocean away from everybody you know for half a school year grows you up in a lot of ways you were blind to previously. And then running around a foreign continent where people don't always speak your language and you come close to being homeless several times grows you up even more. People my age always complain about how adulthood sucks, but being able to fend for yourself is one of the most satisfying things in life. I've learned that you need less than you think, there is nothing better than going to church with your best friends, and all those domestic skills my mom taught me are killer things to know.



Standing in the ruins of Coventry Cathedral

I can confidently say that the last four months have been the happiest of my life. I'm not ready to go back.

 

But God has other plans. He wants me to be a good steward of the blessings He has given me here and make a difference in my life back home. He has taught me to rely on Him in everything, down to where my next meal is coming from; it's getting me ready for what is going to be a year of a lot of uncertainty (including that wild safari of grad school applications). He's shown me both how important it is to have a new generation of strong leaders in the church, and also how awesome it is to meet fellow hip, radtacular young people who are defined by that enthusiasm.

I studied some pretty interesting church fathers and wrote a few papers, but here's the most relevant thing I've learned this semester: Money disappears, charm is shallow, and accomplishments are relative. The truly good life is the one spent for God's kingdom.

Wherever I end up, whether it's in Milwaukee or some far-away grad school, still writing here or something longer, teaching either my own or someone else's kids, I want to remember the words of Basil of Caesarea: "As long as we draw breath, we have the responsibility of leaving nothing undone for the edification of the churches of Christ."

Thank you, Cambridge.

On being away from home

When our trip around Europe was winding down, I found myself missing Cambridge like I did Wisconsin when I first arrived here. That was an odd realization.  It's become mine. It's comfortable instead of being new or "foreign." I have relationships which have become strong enough to tie a part of myself here forever. In just three months, this place has become home. My friend Hilary has told me about this being a phenomenon that happens with her friends here. When I told her how much I missed church, she exclaimed, "You see? It's happening! A piece of your heart is in Cambridge now, and you'll leave it here when you go back home." Darnit.

Something I've learned, being away from my homeland:

I've always been in the position of hostess. I think I inherited this from my parents. They were constantly having people over for Bible studies, church parties, Superbowl shindigs, etc. In highschool, most of the times my friends and I would hang out, it would be at my place. When college came around, our house, being strategically-located 10 minutes from campus, became a revolving door of friends coming by to spend the night, have bonfires, jam sessions, movie nights, and even just sit at the kitchen table and get advice from my mom. And as the lone commuter in the group, I regularly gave people rides or made them cookies or provided the transportation to whatever place we wanted to visit together. As crazy as that would sometimes be, I loved it. Helping others in such a tangible way was always deeply satisfying.

Before this starts looking like a bragfest, let me say that I'm coming to think a good part of this was probably a control issue. I liked being in a stable enough position to give and not need to receive. It's nice to not feel like you're in somebody's debt.

But now, I'm the one who's receiving rides to places, appreciating the home-cooked meals of church friends, being reminded of my neediness day after day. It's very humbling. Having seen the other side of hospitality, I'm inspired by the examples set before me in my church here in Cambridge. It isn't easy to walk into an established church in a different country where you know nobody. But right away, people welcomed me, befriended me, and invited me into their homes. When I'm back in the States, I want to always remember that feeling when I see somebody new at church.

In the meantime, though, I'm seeing that my dependency on others here is a picture of my greater dependency on God. Just as I am in the position of accepting help from friends (rather than giving it), so am I completely needy of God's grace in every aspect of my life. He daily provides both my physical sustenance and perfects the good work He once began in me. On my own, I can't draw my own breath, and sure as heck can't beat to death the sin still plaguing me. But He does.

So rather than letting myself feel (proudly) uncomfortable in my current state of comparative helplessness, I want to see God's love through it instead. I think that's a big reason why Cambridge has become a second home so quickly - the people here have demonstrated, daily, the love of God toward one another.

On the Church

In many ways, your church is what you make of it. I think a lot of people's frustrations with their own churches in the end come down to problems within themselves. The 5th grade me is the perfect example. 

If you had asked me how I liked my new church at the time, I would have given you the mother of all laundry lists of things I despised about the place - everything from the lack of potential for friends to having to endure the longest, most boring sermons imaginable. I longed for the good old days - my old church, you see, was hip. The kids had their own service, complete with a hilarious pastor and fun activities. My many friends and I would use the time our parents spent talking involved in a bunch of random, rather incriminating adventures around the building (the danger of getting caught made it all the more fun). And in the services, everything was cool - trendy songs, practical sermons, short prayers....you get the idea. 

My point in mentioning all this is to say that this church had set a precedent in my mind. As I sat grumbling about how geeky it is to go to a church with pews, it didn't occur to me that church could be about more than I had previously believed.

Many times there are those who have a legitimate grievance with their church. The doctrine could be wacky or a leader may have fallen into gross sin. But as I mentioned before, I think a lot of the other issues people have are really just their own. At 10, I didn't understand the fact that the purpose of church is first to worship God. There was nothing wrong with my new church - it was my priorities that were off. Church is not a dating service. It is not a community center. It is not a social activism club. While there are many people who do meet a spouse and make friends at church, those things are not its primary purpose. Church is here to focus us on God, not ourselves.

There's also the person who doesn't understand how the church works. An obvious example is the recluse who complains that they never get any fellowship. If there's any law I've learned about churchmanship it's this: What you get from a church is exactly the same as what you give to it. Come two times a month and leave in time for the football game, and yeah, people aren't going to remember your name. If you skip the prayer meeting, don't be surprised when you feel like you're out of the loop. And if you've always wanted to have close relationships like those in the "inner core," pay attention to their habits - they're the ones who come to the church when it's empty and do the thankless jobs that you've probably never even thought of. They're there for every service, and as a result, they've lived their lives with one another. 

Speaking from my own experience, I think we tend to lose sight of our "first love" as John put it in Revelation, and thus start to build a lot of unrealistic and selfish expectations about what the church should be. When we are constantly being reminded of what God has done for us, we'll consider church the highlight of our week, because there we worship Him. When we start to neglect Him, other things begin to be more important to us, and we expect them to show up at church. That's when you start to see Jane Austen Bible Studies and blogs devoted to "pastor fashion." (No, I'm not even kidding.)

So I guess what I'm saying is anything worth having is worth working for. (And make sure it's worth having.)

How sweet and awful is the place

With Christ within the doors,

While everlasting love displays

The choicest of her stores.

4 Things

1. My uncle has been staying with us for the past few days, and introduced us to Blokus. Oh my (not) goodness. I'm irreversibly addicted. Who knew that connecting a bunch of random shapes of squares together could be so entertainingly strategic? Ahhhhhhhh......
2. Speaking of epiphanies, the other day I was hanging out on Wikipedia (yeah, yeah, I know, it's up there with reading the dictionary.....which I'm also a culprit of), and to my utter joy, I discovered IT IS AVAILABLE IN LATIN. Then I looked and, behold, Wiktionary, Wikisource, Wikiquote, etc. etc. were the same! It was nearly too much excitement for me to handle at once. Despite my -300 vocabulary count of Latin words, it's pretty fun to go through all the articles pretending you understand what's being said. See, nerds do have fun. :-)
3. These look like some pretty cool notebooks. When I finally make it to Europe, I'm definitely going to bring one along! The whole concept of a city guide combined with a travel journal strikes me as indisputably brilliant.
4. A week ago my pastor preached a great sermon on a topic you rarely hear about these days in most churches - the necessity of  being wary of false christs. Perversions of Christianity are incredibly more dangerous than false religions because it's hard to detect them. They're like rat poison - 99% of it is food, but the remaining 1% is pernicious and toxic enough to destroy you. We really do have to be "as shrewd as serpents and innocent as doves." (Matthew 10:16)

2 Things.....

.....that stood out to me in the preaching at church today:

1. The simple sections in the Bible explain the harder ones. For example, we would read one of the Gospels to help us understand Who the Suffering Servant is in Isaiah 53, not vice-versa. All too often - especially when it comes to the end times - people do the opposite. They take the passages in Daniel & Revelation (two of the hardest books to understand in the Bible) on eschatology and fit what they say into the rest of what Scripture has to say on the topic. It doesn't make sense.
   
2. The Jewish leaders in the Gospels knew that Christ was from God. (John 3:2) The reason why they hated Him was because He was a threat to their power - many people were interested in His teaching, thus rejecting theirs. I can't imagine how you could justify killing GOD! Christ knew all this, yet He still asked God to forgive them while they were reviling Him as He hung on the cross! What a wondrous Savior we have!

It Was a Dark and Stormy Night....or...The Most Exciting Wednesday Night Church Service I've Been to Yet

Yes, now there's a lot of work for the deacons at church, yes, people got pretty scared, but last night was, to my teenage mind, one of the most interesting times I've had after church! Wondering why? Well, read on.

At the beginning of our midweek service, despite the overcast sky and possibility of rain, everything seemed fine. Midway through the sermon, it started raining. Soon, there was a downpour and with the combo of that, thunder, and lightning, it was pretty hard to hear the pastor preaching. It did add intersting sound effects. Then the lights momentarily went out! You can hear it in the sermon recording from last night.

Later on, I happened to turn around (face it, with all that going on, who's able to give their full attention to the sermon? *grin*), and I saw my dad motioning me to come out into the vestibule. He was standing next to the stairway going next to the basement and looked rather puzzled. He told me to check out what was going on down there. As I started to go down the steps, I heard water falling. Uh oh. There was water gushing through the window in the bathroom into an inch-deep lake the floor! For some reason, memories of Niagara Falls popped into my mind.

re-enactment of Noah's flood

I ran back up and told my dad what was going on; he told me to get one of the deacons. I showed him the "incident" and while everyone else was singing the closing hymn, (probably suspicious from seeing me walk in the sanctuary and grab a deacon) he got the shop vac out and started getting some of the water up. Soon there were a bunch of other people downstairs, and somebody came to their senses quickly enough to ask the brilliant question of whether or not there were other windows with the same problem. Sure enough, we ran into the "fellowship hall" as they call it, and there was another water-bearing window.

That's bad. Very bad. Not your typical, "Eh, this is lame" bad, but "Boy are we in for it!" bad. You see, we have a preschool that rents out that room, so all their stuff is in there.....right next to the aforesaid window. Not good.

trying to get the kiddie toys out of the water

There's a parsonage attached to the church, so I went to see if there was water coming into the basement in there. Yup. The floor was nearly covered in water in one of the storage rooms.

that was one wet carpet

I got back upstairs, and another deacon asked if he could use my camera to take pictures of what was going on outside. He and my parents kept coming in and out in the rain. A bunch of people gathered around the window and were talking about what we should do, since the rain was coming in through the window wells, and so the same deacon and one of our elders went out to take one more look. They were just outside the door when I heard what sounded like a canon go off; they scrambled back inside. Lightning had struck about 10 or 15 feet away from them! Everyone saw it but me. Figures. Being the good Calvinists that we are, we took it that God didn't want us going outside again!

After we all recovered from that, we went back downstairs and started mopping. The water had traveled from the paneled room out into another part of the basement so we started pushing it into a back room with a drain in the floor. There weren't enough mops, so we had to use brooms. It was.....interesting. One thing I learned: Brooms only work for about 10 minutes.

my sandals were soaked after that

My sister came into the room with a squeegie (or however you spell that) she found somewhere and started wiping the floor with it. I was convinced she was a genius.

brilliant younger siblings are very handy

After we got that "cleaned" up, we went back upstairs after doing more gawking, joking about how we could make a movie titled "Stranded at the Baptist Church" and wondering if there was any food available. Since there wasn't too much else we could do, we decided to go home. We left with my dad's fellow deacons spreading paperwork all over the desk in their office. The rain had just stopped. When we drove out of the car port, it started to downpour again........I wonder how long they stayed there last night!

Here's my dad's version of the story.