(still) Making Do

Like any good, bad, or mediocre cook, I appreciate the usefulness of a sharp kitchen knife. And like any thoroughly stocked kitchen, ours contains a very lovely knife set. In fact, we have two very lovely sets of different kinds of knives.

The only problem is that as of now, our knife sets are fulfilling very little purpose beyond that of loveliness.

This is your official warning regarding putting belongings in storage for extended lengths of time. Two dull-ish knives have served all purposes from turkey carving to apple paring for two years.... I don't seem to need a whole set any more.

This is a good thing (I think).

On Preconceptions

Among my goals for the summer: make it through a too-daunting list of "serious reads." By "too-daunting" I really mean "too long," but that's normal.

I prefer to read several books at once. So, among other fantastic reads, I've tackled C.S. Lewis's "Screwtape Letters." In addition to joining "Narnia" as the most readable of Lewis's books I've dipped into, I've found a lot of food for thought.

One of the thoughts I keep coming back to is quoted below in the form of "advice" to one who wishes to turn the believer away from God:

"Once you have made the World an end, and faith a means, you have almost won your man..."

Among my thoughts on this book, and this quote in particular, I have come to a deeper understanding of why logic and knowing what we believe and why is so important. No one will, after all, find a voice with any normal, reasonable human being unless there is something that sounds logical in their message. We must understand logic so we can discern between "sounds reasonable" and "is reasonable." And we must understand what we believe because it is possible to believe the wrong thing for logical reasons IF you have started with a false preconception.

That, for example, is why a cultist may teach a system of belief based on the premise that human bodies are vehicles to help us on our journey. As thinking human beings, we must believe something about our bodies. Starting with a philosophical idea of the "correct" view of our bodies, one can easily build a logical sequence such as this:

All human bodies are vehicles.
All vehicles should be dispensed with if a more efficient vehicle comes along. [it's in the economics!]
Therefore, human bodies should be dispensed with if a more efficient vehicle comes along.

The preceding example is a valid logical sequence (syllogism) as illustrated by substituting the words with those in the following:

(if) All cats are carnivores.
(and) All carnivores eat meat.
(then) All cats eat meat.

We know based on Scripture that the idea of a human body being dispensed with at will is wrong. But how many of us, when confronted with the statement, "human bodies should be dispensed with" will begin by arguing that human bodies aren't dispensable? If we do, we risk loss because we are really combating not a single statement but a whole sequence of thought that must be true provided that our premises is true. More wisely in this example, we should identify and take issue with the root premise that "human bodies are vehicles."

Which brings me back to Lewis. How many of the errors we make in Christian life are from our use of false human preconceptions to create a logical sequence in our minds? For example, let's assume that Christians should conquer the world.

All Christians should conquer the world.
The world is conquered by our faith.
Therefore, Christians conquer the world by faith.

We have strings of "conquering verses" to quote and we are ready to prove to anyone that Christians should conquer the world by faith. But, have we examined our root idea? We are saying, after all, that we are responsible for victory over the world.

In fact, though, Scripture clearly teaches that Jesus overcomes the world.

This requires that we redevelop pattern of behavior based on a new sequence of thought:

(if) Jesus conquers the world.
(and) The world is conquered by our faith.
(then) Jesus conquers the world by our faith.

Our new conclusion is not an entirely comprehensive summary either of world-conquering or of faith. But it still dictates a different way of life than our first thought progression. We now realize we are not responsible for utilizing our faith to conquer the world. In fact, we can't do it! He does it! If that's what we understand, then we'd better take world-conquering off our to-do list and move on to doing the things He actually does command us to do!

Where I've Been

As you may have noticed, I've been posting material as promised from my authored archives fast and furiously. Or maybe not.

Last week, I spent a couple of days away when I went to visit a close friend and attend her graduation from a worthy institution of higher learning. Like any two girls of our age and mature, thoughtful (?) character we found it an excellent opportunity to discuss our has beens, is, and (maybe) shall be's.

You don't really want to know.

But I thought you'd like to know that we also found it an excellent opportunity to catch a live theatre production of "Fiddler on The Roof" in which a friend of ours had a part. It made me think of a favorite "has been" of mine. "Fiddler" was the first live theatre production I ever went to; Dad and Mom took Paul and I when we were something like six and seven. I remember how fascinated and drawn into the whole thing I was as people danced, sang, and shouted before my very eyes. I wasn't in the least confused by the plot, but I should have been. It wasn't until several years later that I somehow came to understand that the "matchmaker" was NOT a manufacturer of wooden matches...

From My Past: Testimonies

The earliest writing I have stashed in my files dates from just after my sixth birthday. Several more followed shortly thereafter. I seem to recall drafting them many times before the final product was carefully copied, and also that Mom read and corrected each draft. These carefully composed writings, partialy reproduced here, were stacked between two pieces of purple construction paper and I thought of them as "my journal."

___________
October 1991 (age six)

"My name is Katie.

Every time we had worship [family devotions] God spoke to my heart. When my pastor spoke at my church God spoke, too. The Bible says in Romans 3:23, 'For all have sinned, and come short of the glory of God.' God said, 'Katie, Katie. You need to accept Jesus.'

Mom told me how to become a Christian. The Bible says in Romans 6:23, 'For the wages of sin is death; but the gift of God is eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord.' I was four years old, almost five. It was June 25, 1990.

I was lying awake in my bed. Mom was up so I went to her room. She helped me to accept Jesus. I said in my prayer, 'Dear Lord, please come into my life.' Then we hugged each other.

After I accepted Jesus I felt like putting fruits in my life. I had a desire to tell others about Jesus. My mind is more clear about knowing what is good and evil. I know I am a Christian.

I hope everyone will get to see this journal so that God's kingdom will be increased.

The Bible says in John 14:6, 'Jesus saith unto him, I am the way, the truth, and the life: no man cometh unto the Father but by me.'"

____________________________
May 15, 1992 (age six)

"One day during our family...[worship time] the Lord caught my attention with a verse out of our daily Psalms. In Psalm 116:14 it says, 'I will pay my vows unto the Lord now in the presence of all his people.' When I heard this I told my Mom, 'I need to do that!' and she described how I could do it. 'I am going to do it Sunday,' I decided.

So on Sunday, March 1, 1992, when I was six and a half years old, my dad and I stood up in front of the congregation at Trinity Baptist Church in Renton, Washington. In the time of invitation I made a public profession that I had become a Christian. Dad added some information about when I accepted the Lord. Then a long line formed of rejoicing people who told me how happy they were for me."

________________________
November 9, 1992 (age seven)

A few months after I believed in Jesus, I developed a hardness in my heart and decided that I would not be kind to my brother, Paul.

At one time Paul asked me if he could have a toy for naptime. I said, "No." This continued for around two months. Every time Paul asked me for things I made excuses so that I would not have to give him anything.

For example, sometimes during naptime I would take out the toy or book that Paul had asked for and play with it or read it. At other times he asked for a toy which I did not want him to have, so I said, 'No.' Then he would ask, 'Why'? I would say, 'Because I do not want you to touch my toys.' I did not know that the toys were God's. Still other times he would ask for a book. I would say, 'No, I love reading,' or 'You don't know how to read.'

At last the Lord convicted me that this was very unkind. So the next time Paul said, 'May I please have a book or toy?' I said, 'Yes!' This made him very happy.

And I got a blessing from the Lord through Paul. This blessing was that Paul started giving me toys for naptime.

By responding properly to the Lord's conviction I am letting God train me up so that when I am older I will not depart from His ways. (Proverbs 22:6)"

_________________________________
December 3, 1992 (age seven)

"I like school the most when we read the Bible or study...[as a family] because I get to sit on a couch with a pillow on each end. Both pillows are the same so it is silly for me to like one more, but I do. I like the left one. One of my brothers likes the very same pillow.

I thought I had a right to sit by the left pillow, so when we sat down on that couch I argued about who would sit by the pillow.

Last Friday, I yielded my right to sit by the left pillow. Today I also purposed to graciously invite him to borrow my toys anytime he wants."

Journey Into My Past

I am on the home stretch of the unpacking, sorting and purging process in my bedroom.

Don't you dare tell me those are "famous last words."

I saved the worst for last, which means I have been undergoing the tedium of sorting through boxes of papers especially over the last week or so. Financial papers. Clipped articles and quotes. Sermon notes. Bulletins and event programs. School papers. Letters. Magazines. Word games played with my brother. And all kinds of doggerel (and maybe a few blots of the more worthy sort) I composed all through my growing up years.

Pity me.

From the day I learned to read I have battled constantly against my tendency to indefinitely save every single piece of paper that came into my possession. I remember when I was seven or eight I would set aside a day every six months or so to go through a desk drawer full of papers and weed the not-so-necessary leftovers of life (gradually) out.

Besides being a die-hard saver of all things paper from the time I could read, I was also a prolific writer from the time I could string together a paragraph. This tendency has given me even more paper to save and more work to do in the last week or so. But I must say that some of the scraps of paper which survived my childhood are good for a laugh--or a sigh.

They may also be just the solution I need to get past my recent "writer's block"...or, more accurately, "blogger's block." The scrawled lines which, mixed generously as they are with memories, give me a laugh may at least bring you a smile. So, if you want a peek into the convoluted functions of my childhood brain visit again soon as I plan to post a wide variety of snippets from the past.

Then again, you may prefer to skip this blog for the next week or two.

Sum Total Of What I Currently Have Worth Saying

These Modern Times

My mouth was surprised today by the latest and greatest in oral technology.

Maybe it's our brand new big-city dentist breaking ground, but then again, maybe I'm just the girl time forgot?

I haven't been to see a dentist in somewhere around six or seven years, so my memories are somewhat dim. But last time I was in a dentist's office, I remember first a long wait in the lobby. (To while away the time, I got to choose between staring at the glass block wall I will always associate with dentistry or reading six month old editions "Highlights for Kids" and "Better Homes and Gardens.") I was eventually escorted into a narrow cubicle, sat down in a plain gray chair, poked for a while, stared at for a few brief moments by an extremely busy man who shot out multisyllabic jargon while a humble assistant hastily scribbled notes on the side, and finally sent home with congratulations on my beautiful smile. I was too old, alas, even to claim a piece of candy for my trouble.

Today, my first toe was hardly over the threshold before I was greeted at the front desk and whisked away to a side office to fill out paperwork. I was inclined to be impressed at the quick service, until I remembered that I was five minutes late for my appointment.

While filling out paperwork, I was offered coffee (!), juice (!), or hot chocolate (!!). This was before a dental exam, with no way to brush my teeth.

I declined.

The next shock was when I was subjected to a rigorous id process--all digitized. A fancy digital camera was used to capture photos of "you, for our records," "your smile, close up," "a bigger smile," "a quick series of close-up snapshots of your teeth from various angles"...that last turned into a ten minute or so ordeal with my lips being stretched in every imaginable direction and even a mirror taking it's turn in the process since the dentist wished to capture a "mirror image of your bite." (!!) All that fuss doesn't even count the xrays.

The digitized xray paraphenalia didn't fit in my mouth as well as the old-fashioned xray film they used to use, requiring them to take and retake the xrays. But in the end they were all lined up neatly on a computer screen in front of me with no processing time required.

I could have cared less. I was ready to be poked and go home already.

("You're sitting on a massage pad right now, would you like that turned on for you?" (!!))

The poking, I must say, was thoroughly old-fashioned. Nothing changed there. The multisyllabic discourse was as thoroughly incomprehensible as usual but the hasty notes of the dental assistant weren't scribbled but typed. When it was all over, I got to see a computerized picture of my mouth, complete with bright red spots wherever a cavity was found.

I was offered a cookie and a water bottle ("room temp or cold?"!!) on my way out the door. Oh, yes, and I was complimented on my beautiful smile. But I think they have to say that, there.