// parable of the tiny kernel //

There was a man who searched for many years to find something that was worth his life's work. He began to grow jaded, disillusioned with what the world had to offer. In disgust, he moved to the country  taking a little, secluded farmhouse and completely abandoning the brilliant, scholarly world he had once inhabited.

While he was cleaning out the barn, deep within the feed bin he found one, tiny kernel. Seized by a sudden impulse, he took it out and planted it, placing markers around it so he would remember its location. He didn’t think much more about it but continued his labors, tending it occasionally when he found many weeds grown up or if the weather was dry. Later in the year, it sprouted and grew into a tall, vivid stalk of corn. He ate one piece and was astonished by the satisfaction he found in its flavor. He saved the rest to plant the next year.

When it rolled around he did so. Instead of just one plant, several grew. This went on over the years until his original kernel had multiplied into enough to feed a village. Then he had enough to spread across the countryside. Eventually, his variety of corn had become so well known it was in demand around the world.

By now, the man had grown old. And he realized that, at last, he had found the truth for which he had sought. 

A little kernel can grow and touch the world. Tiny bits of truth, kindness or corn can have an impact far beyond their size if one only takes the time to cultivate and spread them.

// thoughts on heaven //

via pinterest 

Today I realized what heaven sounds like for me.
The thought of which made me close my eyes and smile to the sunlight.
I think that heaven will be the end of the questions.
the end of the always '?'
It will be an enveloping, warm, sea of light
and as I drown in it, that will be the discovery of true life.

Then I thought 'for a philosopher(if I even am one. although aren't we all.)wouldn't an end of all questions be like a sort of anti-climax?'

But no, the joy in the questions IS the ever-closing nearness to The Answer. Every new truth is a step in the journey to The Truth.

And when suddenly in a flash the last and darkest question is answered with a sudden influx of beyond light pouring and filling and over-filling until I am not, because I Am is, and beauty unimaginable satisfies that for which my heart has ever longed,

When I know all and nothing, and it doesn't matter because the knowing is nothing next to The Known and what I do know is counted lost and what I don't, gain-

When I can know at last that really, my questions and their answers are so very, very small and that He, Knowledge Himself, is so vast that my worries were laughable and cry-able-

That will be my heaven. that is the land for which I look. Perhaps it isn't so- perhaps Heaven is the finding that question is joy instead of pressure. I think dividing over 'what Heaven will be like' would be very foolish, for anything we wish or think or hope it will be, compared to The Reality, is such an unable comparison that there is nothing to compare the comparison with.

And even as I finish I am struck with a dark bell knoll in the midst of these thoughts.
For if heaven is the Answer to all questions of those who questioned aright,
Then hell will be an eternal gnawing question,
A 'what if'-
That sickening teeter-totter of doubt that burns(yes, burns. fire doesn't need to be literal to consume) your insides,
To those who questioned only themselves and held themselves as answer.

Even so, come quickly Lord.
But let us not sleep until then.
Amen.

  I don't know if I have conveyed the beauty of this thought, the way it feels to me, but let me tell you if I could it is the most wondrous of thoughts.

// what i've been reading //

My real-life bestie, Shandi(who blogs @ Beyond the Ordinary) asked me to do a post on what I've been reading lately. I've actually been reading quite a lot(as per my new years resolution) so I'm happy to oblige!

I feel vaguely bad, severely un-hipster, and (this is the plus side of the thing), motivated to buy some new books, because nearly all of these are on my kindle. I'm a firm supporter of e-reading, (it's the same content, and often in a price(free) that you can try before you buy, so to speak). But, it's just not quite as satisfying, AND you can't take nice aesthetic pictures of the lovely books. (or have your sister take the picture). Anyways, here's a list, sans photo, and then I'll elaborate a little(don't I always?;)

To Kill a Mockingbird
Some Emily Dickinson biographies
I really feel like I read something in between this but I cannot for the life of me remember if I did, and if so, what??
 THE MOONSTONE, that's it. Yas. Yay brain.
Villette
Picking away at Wuthering Heights, again.... I don't know why I just can't seem to get into it.
Assorted poetry(Walt Whitman, Lord Byron, Yeats)
I re-read 'What Men Live By', one of Tolstoy's short stories
I've been slowly reading, and just recently finished, 'Of Miracles' by C.S. Lewis, and then just last night read 'A Grief Observed'

To Kill a Mockingbird- Harper Lee
This book fully deserves its reputation. I can't tell you whether it's more social/racial commentary, coming of age novel, small town sketch or mystery. It's all those things, and more. Without re-reading it I can't give you a real breakdown, I have to read a book several times to have that. But I recommend it. The characters are so finely written, even the obvious hard parts are handled with a wonderful tact. Every last one is delicately drawn so that you feel you really know them, and enter into their world. Language in books is a fine line for me- if it's realistic, good. But there's no need to be excessive. This book shone in this regard. The people talked as they would talk, but there is never a point where it just feels like crudeness for it's own sake. And then there's Atticus. Oh, Atticus, Atticus. This was one of those books I couldn't put down; I read it in an afternoon which is something I've not done for a long time. I can't wait to buy my own copy, and also read the sequel. The film with Gregory Peck is very good too.

Emily Dickinson- I'm not sure why I'm so enthralled by her. The mystery that still really shrouds her true self, despite the attempted dogmatism by authors who want to prove their own point by pretending it had to have been hers? Her incredible poise with words and connection with emotion(something I wish I had, but lack)? Or is it just that I, too, 'am small, like the Wren, and my Hair is bold, like the Chestnut Bur – and my eyes, like the Sherry in the Glass, that the Guest leaves.”  As she described herself. Either way, I've been enjoying learning what I can about her, and drawing my own conclusions about her life and beliefs. To be honest, I don't even love all her poems as much as I'm captivated by her. But some of them are just beautiful, even if perhaps no-one but herself could really understand them.

The Moonstone- Wilkie Collins
A classic(the classic?) mystery with a pretty unexpected ending. It's long, convoluted, rather maudlin at times in true Victorian fashion(were there any high-bred ladies back then that didn't suffer from some sort of nervous complaint? It was as forced on them as 'confidence' is today). But it was a good, very enjoyable book. It didn't take me long at all to read, considering. It kept me in suspense the whole time. And I was very pleased with the ending.

Villette- Emily Bronte
I've not read Jane Eyre, yet, so I can make no comparison between the two. But I absolutely loved Villette. Lucy Snow, the protagonist, was someone I could sympathize with in many ways(although she actually cried a lot, and also suffered from nervous complaints. But she at least had legitimate excuse, other than boredom). She goes through a few circumstances in the begining which eventually lead to her moving to Europe from England and finding a job at a school. It deals with her relationships with others, and herself, and God. Something I really liked was her outlook on God. She never loses sight of Him and the fact that He has a plan, despite all her feelings and fallings. Her life, while hard, is not as unhappy as it feels to her, and it has a great love story. And another good man.

'But if I feel, may I never express?' 'Never!' declared Reason.- Chapter xxi

Wuthering Heights- Charlotte Bronte
It's one of those books I think I could like if I could just get into it. However both times I've tried it's been very slow going. I recognize the great writing- it just doesn't particularly captivate me. Oh well, I'll keep trying.

Poetry- I've been trying to read more of it(and not just Erin Hanson).
Walt Whitman- I love his style, actually. And a few of his poems I adore. He himself- the little I've learned about him, and the philosophy expressed in his work render him someone I don't line up with at all. But a good writer, a great writer, nonetheless.
Selected Poems- 
'Salut Au Monde!',
'The Dark Side'
'Wherefore' and "Answer", 
'Questionable' 
'Appearances'  
'Other Lands', 
and 'Tears'.
I think one of the nice things about poetry is that it is somewhat subjective. You can derive your own meaning, insert your own truth, into their lines so that they speak to you in a way they never did their author. It's scary, really.
Byron- I haven't gotten very far yet. Far enough to think the man a sap, but he writes beautifully.  Two of his so far I have liked(or at least have struck me)-
On the Death of a Young Lady, cousin to The Author and Very Dear to Him.
To Caroline(one of many I think, it starts with 'You say you love, and yet your eye...' This one I didn't like per se, but I connected with it very much. He complains that this girl is like a statue, unfeeling and doesn't love like he does. Foolish man. Perhaps she just loves differently than him.)
Yeats- I've read literally one poem of his so far. I liked it well enough. I need to get biographies of all these men before I can really read their poetry, I like to know what I'm getting into, not just read willy-nilly. I certainly am not recommending them as I know little about them and have read little of their work. I'm just listing them because I've been reading them a little.

What Men Live By- Tolstoy
Oh, this story. I like all his short stories, but this was the one that introduced me and anyways, it's just such a good story with a great message.

Of Miracles- C.S. Lewis
I love C.S. Lewis. So much. I only wish I had a fraction of the mind he had. I'm going to need to re-read this one, because sadly I'm not astute enough to absorb it in one reading. It's so well reasoned and written. I've read Mere Christianity and The Screwtape letters, as well as the Narnia series, also. I like his non-fiction works better still, but I've developed a new appreciation for Narnia as I've gotten older. His arguments have strengthened my faith, for sure, and they're just enjoyable to read.

A Grief Observed- C.S. Lewis
It's only four chapters, but four of the most authentic chapters I've ever read. Far from the conversational, vaguely arrogant and very confident tone of his other books, this one is raw emotion trying to be reasoned out by a philosopher in pain. His doubts, his fears, his anger- it's all chronicled as he wrestles through the loss of his wife and come to grips with his faith in God. And yet he doesn't lose his touch- it's written in such exquisite, agonized language that you can practically touch his tears and feel the nausea of his grief. I can't wait to re-read it(and probably use it when I ever get back to writing my own fictional tragedy.)

So there you go, what I've been reading. It's a longer post than I kind of thought it would be. I don't know that I can pick a favorite, although Moonstone and the poets would fall a little lower on a list of that nature. But I have to say, I really just enjoy reading C.S. Lewis. Even when I don't quite grasp a concept, or follow his argument, I can feel it expanding my brain, and I just have such a high level of respect(awe, actually) for thinkers like that. To be honest, it's something I need to work on- I tend to have a little too much respect. They're only human, I know, of course, but it's a weakness I have. I set too much stock in their writings at times, and forget a little that they are still fallible, and that inspired Scripture must be my highest guide.

 However, that being said, philosophy is a tool like anything else that God can and does use. I can only hope to ever even approach the greatness of people like C.S. Lewis, but thanks to him in particular, I can at least aspire to it. A new dream I have is to visit the locales of his life, in England.

I feel there was something else I was about to write but now I don't remember it. I'm so tired.

  Also, can you tell that I like scholarly men by my selection above? Atticus, the Professor in Villete(who I didn't actually mention but if you've read it you'll know him) and of course, C.S. Lewis. You can keep Mr. Darcy or any sort of dashing/swashbuckling/dreamy hero. I like them of course, but the scholars have my heart. Atticus and his glasses though.

Well, that's enough for tonight I think. Have you ever read any of these? Liked or disliked? Going to try them? Do you have any recommendations for me?

(one last thing- I use too many parenthesis, don't I? Oh well)

// on equality and womens true rights//

03/08/2016

ON THIS DAY, International Women's Day, 2016, my thoughts naturally turn to the nature of womanhood, both in its traditional sense, and as it is gradually being reevaluated in modern times.

Our role as women is related, intrinsically and naturally, to our relationship and standing to the role of men, and for that matter other women. What these roles are, and what they are truly meant to be, is a question that has been in the air, humanly speaking,  since the beginning. It's a question that, in all likelihood, will never be resolved to he bulk of mankind while time lasts.

However it is a question we each must ask ourselves, and one we must try to answer in our own heart. And so, it is a question I am addressing right now.

A common complaint is that women are told by their culture and society what they are expected to be. But it is ridiculous to claim that only women are targeted by this. Men are too. And furthermore society alone cannot be held responsible for constraints or expectations we may feel. Our psyche is shaped by our family, our upbringing,our locale and to a great extent our own conscience and constitution. External factors shape us, yes-but to blame them for how we choose to live is weak on our part. We all face presuppositions for better or worse- we must sift through them with prayer and wisdom, and ascertain which are good and which are ill.

The thing I notice is, people only chafe against certain constraints. And those only at certain times. And, still more, are much less likely to chafe when these constraints are against another to the betterment of themselves. In much the same way, we expect men to do certain things for us until we decide they are 'demeaning' or 'objectifying'. We want equality with men, all while criticizing them for the basic things that make them who they are. The purpose or this writing is neither to defend nor accuse men of anything. But I do think it is forgotten that, while trying to bolster ourselves, how much and often we demean them. Or, others who see things differently than us.

I'm all for just opportunity for women, and all humankind. But I propose that we do ourselves a disservice when we perpetually strive for a certain 'equality'. In always pushing for equal footing, equal standing, we lose in a way the very thing that is an equalizer- our aptitude for greatness as we are. When we think we must be men to be equal, we lessen our own worth. What is instead of fighting for equal 'rights' with men, we thought of it as equal rights for women?

A doctor doesn't consider herself lesser simply because she cannot have all the same skills and opportunities as an architect. No, she might not get discounts on building supplies and tools. No, her opinion might not be as sound in judgement when it comes to the construction of a skyscraper. But in no way does this lessen her worth as a doctor! It's the same principle. Just because we might not in some ways be equal to men, or even just other people, does not mean we're somehow lesser or subject to some kind of injustice.

To be told, however subtly, that we must be more to be enough, is exactly what feminists often seem to imply, even though in other forms it is exactly what they fight against. I don't think they mean for their message to sound that way. But, it can feel the same to a girl who both is content and wants to be a homemaker, to be faced by people claiming you must be strong, liberated and have a career- as it feels to a girl who isn't size 2, who hasn't got a perfect nose or the right clothes, to be silently faced with an accusation of 'not enough' by every supermodel and fashion magazine she sees.

So instead of calling for equality of gender or opportunity, lets call for equality of spirit. The realization that no one has to be the same, and that it is our beliefs and our hearts that give us strength, not our career choice or clothing size. That it is the fact that we are living Human Beings that gives us worth, not our job, our age, our size, color, race, or anything else. Our souls are all equal. And they are the only part of us that maters. For they are the only thing that lasts.

So that, I hold, is the true nature of equality and the true right of women and men alike. That of the spirit. The greatest people are often those who must fight against the greatest dearths of in-equal opportunity. This is how one becomes strong. In fact, I think even the idea of equality can be a deceitful one. It can only be had in math. And human existence is most definitely not math. Not rigid, unfeeling numerical computation. Life is much more. And the only equality we have is our standing before God. That of being sinners, in need of saving. That of creatures in the face of our Creator. And if more people contemplated that in silence for a moment instead of shouting causes from the rooftops, they might find their answers clearer.

 

Galatians 3:28 

There is neither Jew nor Greek, there is neither bond nor free, there is neither male nor female: for ye are all one in Christ Jesus.

xxx I don't know if this is quite what I set out to write... Actually its quite not. And it sort of digresses from it's opening, to what I was trying to write from the get go. Hum. I may have to write further on the topic. I've just gotten a new notebook specifically for essays of this sort, so I'm going to be practicing them quite a bit. I'd love ideas for topics. It's a 3 subject notebook, so I'm planning on Worldviews, Specific Personalities and Issues, and Random. I'd love ideas, please, please! Thanks for reading, and happy just being alive day- men, women and children alike.xxx

// philosophers & fools //

// we are philosophers and sages.

we stare to the sky, begging the stars for our futures 

& thinking about the way we will change it

& we are idiots and fools

 for we do not look past the sky, and the silent singing stars

we believe our future is our own and that we are the future

we believe that is all there is to life //

via pinterest