In Perfect Peace

Most people's definition of peace would be lack of stress, strife, or conflict, but that isn't possible in this broken world.  But there is a certain Prince of Peace, Who has promised us perfect peace, but not peace as the world gives it, a peace that passes all understanding (got that song stuck in your head now?) but how can that be when we are also promised strife, troubles, and sorrow by the same Person?  He who promises to bring not Peace but a Sword?  Ah, the paradox of this strange, funny, wonderful life!  You can have Joy even in your sorrow, Confidence amidst your doubt and uncertainty, you can be Holy even while sin haunts your daily steps, and Peace amidst chaos and strife.

Peace is one thing I cherish above all else in our home.  I never had it growing up, only an uneasy break in the constant tension when my mother wasn't home, but she always came back and then the constant belittling, shaming, criticism, and frustration would begin anew.  We don't have a perfect home, far from it, especially with two rather loud kids, and four quite strong willed people, we have our share of disagreement, tantrums, and disagreeable episodes, but behind and beneath it all, there's a love that never gives up or goes away, hope is never quenched, a person's value is never questioned, and one's security is never threatened.  My kids don't worry that I might not love them anymore if they don't listen.  My husband doesn't wonder if I'll be here in the morning after a disagreement the previous night.

That's the Peace that is offered, not a peace the world understands, for it is something from beyond the world as we know it.  A peace, a security, a sure-footed stance on an immovable mountain rooted in eternity itself, no matter what the storms of life throw at you, even if war engulfs you, that sort of Peace will never waiver or fail.  And it is free to all takers, if we'll only accept it.

Some articles worth reading

Getting rather depressed or confused by the obsessive politics and irascibility on either side of the aisle?  Here's an interesting analysis.

Feeling rather stymied by modern cultural trends and wondering how to be both rational and realistic in an age of more and more nonsense?  Read this.

The Reason for Story

I watched Masterpiece Theater's version of 'Northanger Abbey' last night, and I think I may actually like the movie better than the book, which is not something I ever say about Jane Austen!  But there are so many painful scenes in the book where Miss Catherine is unwittingly annoying Mr. Tilney because of her awful friends that I can't help but blush for her, ugh!  Happily in the movie, with time constraints, they only show one such scene.  Another interesting subtext within this particular movie was the mention of vampires, or rather a form of vampirism.  I've often noted the true-to-life narcissists in Austen's other works (both novels and movie versions) but this is the first actual discussion I've seen of the topic, though it wasn't spoken of in those terms, narcissists are often referred to as emotional vampires.  Besides, Lady Catherine, General Tilney is certainly one of Austen's best depictions.  

I bought a version of 'Persuasion' at the same time, hoping it would be better than the other one I saw, but still I was disappointed.  The book is good, but the movies are rather tedious, perhaps it is impossible to make a good movie version of this particular novel?  I now have an enjoyable version of each of Miss Austen's works save 'Persuasion,' even a 'Lady Susan' though it is called 'Love and Friendship.'  Even with all our mastery of the computer arts and visual effects, no one has yet mastered this elusive work, for Austen's works are not about show and glitz or even the happy ending, but deal with humanity in all its shades of good, bad, beautiful, ugly, joy, and sorrow, which are the heart of any great and enduring story.  And our modern movie making is moving ever further from just that, sufficing itself with grander and more epic battle scenes, more violence and nudity while the very reason we tell stories in the first place is forgotten, it is not to be entertained but rather to learn something about ourselves, our world, and our place in it.

You must unlearn what you have learned!

Pick your poison: dystopian novels or Shakespeare.

Forget what you learned (or didn't) in high school English, I'm guessing not much, but here are a couple neat articles about two famous (or infamous) and very different sorts of literature.  You don't have to hate reading, even if Hamlet or Brave New World did unforgivable things to you back in the day.  It's sort of like giving a kid dark chocolate or wine: they just don't appreciate it and it may ruin the experience for life.  Why not give it another try?  You might be surprised!

Bought with a price

I think the Narcissists in my life must have made a New Year's resolution to double down on their activities of late.  To most people this would be annoying or irksome, but having been raised by one, I'm still wired to torment myself in hopes of making them happy, to tying myself into knots hoping to please them.  It doesn't work, it never has.  My mother could no more love me than I can hitchhike to the moon, I can't blame myself for that, it isn't my fault, I have no control over it whatsoever.  So I know all that in my head, but how do you get it hammered into your heart?  Practice I guess, I just need to make a conscious choice to do it over and over again until it's habit.  Isn't there just an app to reprogram my brain or something?

Then I ran across this article which, though mostly unrelated, the title 'You are not your own,' got me to thinking about this whole issue.  Who do we belong to?  The Narcissists would say they own me, and act like they do, no matter how unrelated or distant they still think they should be running my life and get rather testy when I prove otherwise.  American culture would say obviously my body, my life, but that's ridiculous.  I just fell down the stairs this morning, I had no control over anything, it was all gravity and I was just along for the ride.  Sure I can dye my hair or diet or exercise but I have no control over anything really, I'll get cancer or not or my muscles will grow or not without any ability of my own to control that.  So who really owns me?  Who built the house?  Who maintains it?  Who paid for it?

I've rented my entire life, and while I can be quite at home in a rental, it isn't my house.  I can't paint the walls or rip out the carpet without the owner's consent.  Why is it so hard to think that way about myself?  Most people wrestle with giving up their own sense of ownership, I struggle with getting other people's fingers off of my soul.  'You are not your own,' means 'you aren't theirs either!'  Yay!  All these people who KNOW how my life should be lived, the way it MUST be done, are no more correct than anyone who says 'I will live this way because that's what FEELS good.'  The hard part is figuring out the proper way to live, we silly humans tend to fall off one side or the other; now how do I learn to keep to the middle of the road?

Kingdom come

I've been a wanderer, an orphan, a refugee my entire life, at least in an emotional, relational, and spiritual sense.  Here's an interesting article reminding us that we do have a home, and it's here now, not some distant hope, and that it is our job to be citizens of that unseen country and help others to find it!

Ridiculous Road Trips!

Want to feel small, and invigorated all at the same time?  Check out this quick little article on mind boggling interstellar road tripping!  Wow!  My question is, why would anyone want to live on Mars?  First the trip to even get there would be horrendous and once you were there survival would be bleak indeed!  Why not move to Antarctica or the Sahara?  At least you could breathe the air and water is known to exist!  Star Trek and Star Wars give us visions of easy travel and accessible civilizations all along the way, like road tripping between the States, but I wonder how many of these idealists have even road tripped across South Dakota, much less between the empty wastes of space?  But then again, 'if I take the wings of the morning and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea,' still He is there! Apparently we've been dreaming about such things since time out of mind, we are just more scientific and less poetic than the ancients.