Charles Williams

The Place of the Lion

Perhaps I'm not really familiar with enough philosophy to get this book. I am confused and... well, confused. I understand the basic plot, mostly. But I don't know what is really going on. I am only half way through. Perhaps it will all become clear in the end. I remember studying Plato and his ultimate forms. But how is that intruding on this seemingly country lifestyle of people in England? It is all so very odd.

The Yearly Planner

I really needed a planner. So, I went to Walmart (yikes!) and bought one. There is something wierd about looking at a year from now. I have a really hard time thinking about next June. What will I be doing next June? I haven't the foggiest idea. I used to be able to plan for years in advance... high school-4 years, then college-4 years, then what? Life is no longer sectioned out in large chunks. It is in smaller pieces of months, semesters, a year. Beyond that, I have no vision. I can think of what I will do for one year, but I have no solid idea of where God could take me after that. I could be in the same place. I could be somewhere else. Why does this seem so strange to me?

Knots

There are lots of kinds of knots out there. I wish sometimes that little girls had interests in things like knots like little boys have. Being a little girl myself, I never was interested in them myself. I untied plenty, growing up. Necklaces would get wound up in a jewelry box or the yarn would become a snarl in the sewing box. I remember trying to get loose some fishing line once. I don't think I ever managed to get it. In history class in 9th grade I learned about how Alexander the Great "untied" the famous knot at Gordium. I wonder if part of our modern society has come out of that tradition: that of cutting through something and doing it the quick way instead of the slow and tedious way. Have we lost the ability to sort out a problem so that everyone comes out whole and intact? Or must we take the way that gets us to the end most quickly but leaves some people torn to pieces?

My stomach is creating it's own knots today which have left me quite miserable. Neither cutting nor untying will do any good. It must merely run its own course.

Moscow!!! (not Russia)

I am finally back in my American home town with my family. It has been two weeks of living out of a suitcases and the skin is peeling on the palms of my hands.

I went for a walk with my mom and smelled the trees and grass and the clean warm air of my small town. The weather is full of heat and perfect.

I am reminded of how easy life can feel in the United States, of how simple it can feel to stroll down a street, how smooth the rhythms of life can be in a comfortable world like this.

Old Rock Climbing Adventures

Qlash

This is a miniature pair of qlash, the traditional Kurdish shoe. But this pair is just big enough for your keychain. Just thought I'd let you see what the terrorists in prison here do.

However, the real life sized shoes are made by men and women who are trained and skilled craftsmen. Some of the qlash makers are now part of a program that is reaching out to kids in Iraq. Check them out and get your own pair of shoes from Buy Shoes, Save Lives. I think this program is really neat and these people are doing a great work.

Water

I was sitting in the parking lot waiting for my car (it was coming back from being fixed) and I saw a small stream of water flowing from the guard building. Here, more than ever, I have learned some of the beauty of water. It is clear and yet shines and shimmers. It flows over and around things. It cleanses, taking the dirt into itself. It is so beautiful, but also can be so ugly when turned to slime. It gives life to plants, animals, and people too. My ind darts out to the water David poured out because he would not drink the blood of his men. The water and the blood... the Living Water, the Word washes, the blood washes... Here my mind leaps from place to place and soon has too many paths like a fractal patter that continues to split off and divide. I cannot trace it because it just keeps going like something out of control and it reties itself into knots of prayer for my students... my teachers... my friends...

The Cliffs of Insanity!

I climbed down into a 20 meter bat cave/crevice today. Then I climbed out. I think I have never done anything harder in my whole life. Even Mr. Harken's weird workouts didn't push my like this. My knees are a tribute to all purple fruits and I even managed to bruise my shoulder blades. But I had so much fun. After that I rappelled off of a 60 meter cliff. It was awesome fun! Clare climbed up about 55 meters but couldn't make the last 5 because of the lichens on the rocks and the overhang. But she made it a long way. I was already knackered by then so I didn't even try any of it. That bat cave was enough for me!

Politics in the Middle East

I met with a man today who is originally from Fallujah, a place that has been a center for violence and terrorism. He told me about how all the problems there were created by a couple of translators who were antagonistic to the American military and began the whole problem. In addition, rumors were begun that the American military had glasses through which you could see people nude. This, of course, deeply offended the honor and dignity of the very modest Muslim people. It was interesting to also note that as this man explained these miscommunications and "cheatings" he had high hopes for the future of Iraq and the American military. He expected everything to be settled within two years. I have not heard such an optimistic number from anyone else, American or Iraqi. His reasoning was that now that the Americans has been deceived, they were wiser, making wiser decisions, and understood the psychology of the people. They now know whom to listen to and whom not to trust. So, things will be better soon... I hope.

Living the Dream

My wacky week with music and magic tricks traipsing around rushing rapidly playing and praying going going talking truth and teaching jumprope and Jesus but then Bangladeshi bongo drums on the roof in the moonlight and much watermelon and wishing on stars that this stellar weather would never vanish into vast desertness but would stay forever free from dust and dreadful dirt that rains mud but keeps all cool for our continuous cooking marathon for fifty guys who are grateful for real food and movies in their language and in movies I can see caves and snottites and slimy glow worms with wet silk and hundreds of feet of feces in caverns large enough to fly a jet plane through in Borneo bringing bugs and bats and beautiful cave crystals created to be beauty and me one more night out laughing and Living the Dream.

Notification.... vote for me.

Hey! I'm in a contest for blogs of little readership and small renown. Kind of fun!

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Project Mgr.
www.thebestofblogs.com

What!!!!???

So I'm sitting here and there are 150 Bangladeshi men on the roof. I don't live in Bangladesh or anywhere near Bangladesh. Yet, there they are. They are having a magic show and some singing I think. I'm not going up there... too many men... aiba.

I'm so tired.

Zzzzz.....

গণপ্রজাতন্ত্রী বাংলাদেশ

I've been learning a bit about people from Bangladesh lately. There are many men here from that country involved in some sort of worker trafficking that often ends up more like slavery than a working abroad project. It has brought many groups of people together and God is working among us and them for better conditions physically and spiritually. What an amazing thing! Who is this God of ours that takes people who have been sent miles away from their homes and have suffered terrible things and uses it so that they find truth and can become truly whole? This is a redeeming God, who turns trials into gold.

A Little Piece of My Local News

Soma Newspaper---at the Chaikhana (tea-house)

On the back page of every paper, these two men have a chat about...well, everything. Their conversation rambles and jumps and rabbit-trails, never to return. But sometimes they really nail a concept or the cause behind something that everyone complains about. Here's part of one...
read the whole bit here.

JWAMER
Come on Bayiz who am I to give advice to those professional people!

BAYIZ
But I have seen school children giving advice to the government.

JWAMER
School children are advising the government?

BAYIZ
Yes and so many times.

JWAMER
Oh my God, why?

BAYIZ
Don’t ask me, ask democracy. Sorry, sorry, I think its real name is chaos.

JWAMER
Bayiz do you have a handkerchief?

BAYIZ
Yes, but it is dirty. Why?

JWAMER
I want to cry, we must all cry, cry for converting the ideal of democracy into a chaotic situation.

BAYIZ
I have no objection. I will cry with you, but it is not only us that should take responsibility. Others are responsible, too.

JWAMER
Do you mean our kind neighbors?

BAYIZ
Definitely not. I mean those who liberated Iraq. They brought us the food but they didn’t teach us how to eat it.

JWAMER
Don’t simplify the matter Bayiz, it is a multi-faceted one. But the bulk of the responsibility falls upon us. We failed in all the exams, let us cry.

BAYIZ
I hate exaggeration but since you insist on crying take the handkerchief. Here it is.

The Wierd Things I Do

So I turned off the lights last night as I brushed my hair. I know, I know... you all think I'm crazy. Maybe I am, but not for this... The dryness of the air created a lot of static electricity. I first noticed as my hairbrush shocked my head... ouch. But then I remembered that the static electricity does more than just make my head hurt and my hair stand out from my head. So I turned off the lights and had my own fireworks show. Pretty cool.

Rather Wordless...

A dilemma and a request

I have recently been a part of a conversation (or actually, I just listened) concerning the passage in 1Timothy 2:11-15. I know that I have distinct views on this. I also know that I approach Scripture in a certain way that only allows for a limited interpretation of most things. My first request is that you send me your thoughts on this passage.

My second request is caused by the situation behind the first request. In that conversation many other topics came up that I saw as far more important than the issue of women and yet I still disagreed with many who were there. I am a young woman... in a general conversation on a Biblical issue with older Christians how should I be? Part of me hesitates to contradict those who are older and have more experience than myself--after all, what if I am wrong? But I don't think I am wrong. I don't see how I could be wrong in light of Scripture. What then should I do? Should I approach these people? Should I ask them to clarify? Should I rebuke them (I don't feel that I could!)?

Thanks for your prayers.

My Life as a Medieval Fairy Tale

Once upon a time there was an ordinary girl. She was an ordinary school teacher drudge, but was sent on a quest across the seas to a far land where the people spoke different, looked different, and acted different. She encountered many adventures among those people but one day she went on a special mission.

After navigating a maze of roads with two trusty companions she found herself behind security lines having slipped (well, walked) through some guard posts with hardly a notice. (Yes, the companions were patted down--being men and all.) Covertly standing in line (just trying to blend in, you see) the girl and her friends made it a bit further before a violent struggle (okay, so no struggle at all) and some blood was drawn.

Escaping from there, the girl and one of her companions held cotton to the inside of their elbows and went off to scavange for some nourishment which was purchased from some kindly people nearby who had some extra food for the travelers (they ran a restaurant). During the consumption of the meal the group was notified of a princess who was locked in a porcelain room.

They rushed to her rescue and one of the most experienced companions opened the door with the secret and magical key (screwdriver) to release the princess who was quite shaken at her captivity. The young lady gave gracious thanks and the heroes returned back to the place of their origin in the educational facility which was their cover for all surreptitious activities like rescuing small princesses from rooms where the door handle has fallen off.

What an amazing day!

Random Event...

So... on an ordinary day...things like this happen. We were driving down the road and stopped at an intersection. A man on the street yelled out... "Hi! Bye! I love you!"

I think he must have been learning his English from the soap operas. Ugh...the things I suffer.