The electrician cometh! After months of extension cords, our working outlet count is finally up from 2 to 7. Let us rejoice and be glad!
Moving from the ridiculous to the sublime, I've been musing about Biblical poetry in general, and Genesis 1 in particular. The other day I read the creation account in the New Living Translation, and was horrified to discover that the refrain "and there was evening, and there was morning, the first day" was replaced with "this all happened the first day." Certainly that's an accurate distillation of the bottom line, clearly and directly expressing the total factual content implied in the phrase. At cost, of course, of the rhythm and poetry.
Until I deeply explored the first few chapters of Genesis, the factual status of the account was deeply important to me. My faith cannot rest on a Book that is demonstrably false at the outset. If the first chapters fall, the rest of Scripture falls with it. "Liberals" may interperet it as mere poetry, but surely that's just an euphamism for nonsense... I saw theistic evolution as something along the same lines as a metaphorical interperetation of the resurrection.
But... then I actually experienced the poetry. Regardless of factual status, to call the Genesis account primarily poetic is most certainly not a euphamism. The deeper I delved into its richness, the less I was concerned with its literal accuracy. Genesis may or may not shed significant light on natural history, but in any case, that makes up a small portion of the meaning packed into those lines. The question of how God actually went about creating life began to seem a relatively trivial distraction from the more significant insights into the relationships between God, man, time, and nature.
It's so easy for people like me to busily distract ourselves with analyzing factual questions as a sort of protection against the life-shaping power of poetry. Ironic that this would be my tendency as a musician... perhaps it is because I'm particularly vulnerable... Discussions of what happened on what day, how long the days were, and how to account for the geologic record are relatively safe. Stimulating and pious, they don't require much change. At the end of the day, the Christian life remains the same no matter how God chose to create the universe. The poetry, on the other hand, is anything but safe. It penetrates deep into the human soul, demands that we conform to its rhythms and cadences... 'tis most uncomfortable to our fallen selves.
And we, too, who are His spiritual creation, remain formless and void until we hear His Word speak to our hearts "Let there be light!"
And there was evening, and there was morning, the first day.
7.05.2005
7.04.2005
6.21.2005
Bananas!
Andy and I were sitting on the couch catching up on the day, and I asked him to toss me a banana. Sweet husband that he is, he got up and fetched me said banana. Then he broke the top of the peel for me. That was thoughtful, I suppose, but when he actually started to peel it, I thought that was going a bit too far. Then he broke off a bite-sized piece and handed it to me...
Sigh. I used to make fun of couples who called one another "Ma" and "Pa." Now if I approach Andy while he's busy with bedtime snacks, the moment I open my mouth, I find it full of yogurt.
Sigh. I used to make fun of couples who called one another "Ma" and "Pa." Now if I approach Andy while he's busy with bedtime snacks, the moment I open my mouth, I find it full of yogurt.
6.19.2005
Sing-alongs
We were just listening to Andy's new Michael Card CD, and very much enjoying it...
But then on one song, there was an entirely superfluous line of backup vocals... entirely superfluous, and rather off-key.
Then I discovered that it was just Isaiah humming along. Come to think of it, it was pretty impressive after all!
But then on one song, there was an entirely superfluous line of backup vocals... entirely superfluous, and rather off-key.
Then I discovered that it was just Isaiah humming along. Come to think of it, it was pretty impressive after all!
Musings on the Eucharist
Andy is at Mass right now, and I wish that I could be there, too. Alas, the wuggies are sniffly, so instead of actually partaking of the Lord's Supper, I'm jotting down the musings that have been brewing over the last week or so.
I don't remember the circumstances... something trivial must have gone awry... in any case, a humiliating awareness of my inadequacy seized my consciousness. I dug my nails into my flesh, bracing myself, as it were, as gruesome and all-too-familiar images of self mutilation flooded over me. I reasoned with myself that I was grossly over-reacting. My little embarrassment was really insignificant, and not entirely my fault, anyway. Certainly nothing to justify the ghastly judgments I was envisioning.
And yet... all was not utterly trivial. All my failings loomed over me in a great tangled jumble. The most prominent were absurd in their insignificance, but hiding behind them were pride, jealousy, bitterness, laziness, and self-absorption.
Nevertheless, my self-hatred was quite unneccessary, since the things I was really upset about didn't even matter much at all.
I was condemned by the very triviality of my offenses. I was more concerned over minor embarrassment than real sin. There was no way out.
Strange... those moments when we see in startling clarity the truth of words oft repeated and long believed. From toddlerhood I knew that the cross was the answer to the abstract theological necessity that my blood be shed. Suddenly I clearly saw it as the answer to the very immediate psychological necessity of my destruction. I need no other argument, I need no other plea. Indeed, I have none.
And so I eat of His broken flesh, drink of the life-blood poured out for the sins of many, and live, utterly justified, in undeserved wholeness.
Thanks be to God!
I don't remember the circumstances... something trivial must have gone awry... in any case, a humiliating awareness of my inadequacy seized my consciousness. I dug my nails into my flesh, bracing myself, as it were, as gruesome and all-too-familiar images of self mutilation flooded over me. I reasoned with myself that I was grossly over-reacting. My little embarrassment was really insignificant, and not entirely my fault, anyway. Certainly nothing to justify the ghastly judgments I was envisioning.
And yet... all was not utterly trivial. All my failings loomed over me in a great tangled jumble. The most prominent were absurd in their insignificance, but hiding behind them were pride, jealousy, bitterness, laziness, and self-absorption.
Nevertheless, my self-hatred was quite unneccessary, since the things I was really upset about didn't even matter much at all.
I was condemned by the very triviality of my offenses. I was more concerned over minor embarrassment than real sin. There was no way out.
Strange... those moments when we see in startling clarity the truth of words oft repeated and long believed. From toddlerhood I knew that the cross was the answer to the abstract theological necessity that my blood be shed. Suddenly I clearly saw it as the answer to the very immediate psychological necessity of my destruction. I need no other argument, I need no other plea. Indeed, I have none.
And so I eat of His broken flesh, drink of the life-blood poured out for the sins of many, and live, utterly justified, in undeserved wholeness.
Thanks be to God!
6.18.2005
For every action there is an equal and opposite reaction...
Meepo has discovered that it is great fun to get a rise out of Dadders by climbing up on the table by the door and putting pennies in his mouth. Dadders makes such funny faces. It is great fun.
Oh yes.
Oh yes.
Flowers!
Isaiah picked a flower and brought it to me!
Meanwhile, Nathan will point to flowers saying "Fffff!"
Meanwhile, Nathan will point to flowers saying "Fffff!"
6.17.2005
In the driver's seat
For some time I've been convinced that one of the keys to a happy marriage is simply knowing what to do together, and what not to do together. For us, this means that we should be sure to carve out lots of time for great discussions, keep each other posted our respective mathematical and musical pursuits, and cook together. It also means that we should never go grocery shopping together, as we have been known to argue ferociously over the various brands of peanut butter. Above all, I should never, ever drive when Andy is in the car.
Driving has never been a tremendous strength of mine, since I haven't done a whole lot of it. But as long as I stick to familiar routes, I'm reasonably safe and competent... unless Andy is in the car. It will start out with a little shifting error. Andy will comment that I stayed in first a little too long. I'll get flustered, and immediately shift into fourth. Things snowball from there, and as we argue, I miss our turn. By the time we finally reach our destination, we are quite at each other's throats.
Yes, having Nener drive is a bad thing to do together.
But it really is quite hampering to have only one of us comfortable navigating the LA freeway system. Even more, Andy pointed out, it was hampering to always have him in the driver's seat, metaphorically speaking. Andy's a take-charge sort or person by nature, and I'm more laid back. If there's a decision to be made, and nobody seems to be making it, Andy will quickly step in and fill the void. I, on the other hand, am incapable of making any decision whatsoever without first ascertaining that I couldn't possibly be stepping on the toes of anyone's imaginary monkey. Which generally means that Andy ends up running the family since nobody else is, while I dutifully stay out of the way, anxious lest I disturb his inscrutible master plan.
So we decided that whenever we get in the car together, I should get in the driver's seat by default... and Andy is not allowed to make any comments. Easier said than done. Old habits die hard. Transmissions, on the other hand, die quickly, so we modified the rules to allow for one shifting comment per trip. That one comment is generally used up within a block or two, and the rest of the trip is spent in playful banter as Andy struggles valiantly to keep quiet.
One of Andy's students, upon amusedly observing our interactions while riding with us the other day, commented how nice it would be if his parents could get along as we did.
We've come a long way, baby.
So... wanna go shopping for peanut butter tonight?
Or not.
Driving has never been a tremendous strength of mine, since I haven't done a whole lot of it. But as long as I stick to familiar routes, I'm reasonably safe and competent... unless Andy is in the car. It will start out with a little shifting error. Andy will comment that I stayed in first a little too long. I'll get flustered, and immediately shift into fourth. Things snowball from there, and as we argue, I miss our turn. By the time we finally reach our destination, we are quite at each other's throats.
Yes, having Nener drive is a bad thing to do together.
But it really is quite hampering to have only one of us comfortable navigating the LA freeway system. Even more, Andy pointed out, it was hampering to always have him in the driver's seat, metaphorically speaking. Andy's a take-charge sort or person by nature, and I'm more laid back. If there's a decision to be made, and nobody seems to be making it, Andy will quickly step in and fill the void. I, on the other hand, am incapable of making any decision whatsoever without first ascertaining that I couldn't possibly be stepping on the toes of anyone's imaginary monkey. Which generally means that Andy ends up running the family since nobody else is, while I dutifully stay out of the way, anxious lest I disturb his inscrutible master plan.
So we decided that whenever we get in the car together, I should get in the driver's seat by default... and Andy is not allowed to make any comments. Easier said than done. Old habits die hard. Transmissions, on the other hand, die quickly, so we modified the rules to allow for one shifting comment per trip. That one comment is generally used up within a block or two, and the rest of the trip is spent in playful banter as Andy struggles valiantly to keep quiet.
One of Andy's students, upon amusedly observing our interactions while riding with us the other day, commented how nice it would be if his parents could get along as we did.
We've come a long way, baby.
So... wanna go shopping for peanut butter tonight?
Or not.
6.16.2005
Rage
Sing, goddess, the rage of September's mother Elena.
Yesterday, under the influence of pregnancy hormones, I flew into quite a rage over absurdities with our apartment complex. Isaiah stared, enthralled, as I stormed about the living room, shouting my indignation and searching for harmless items to destroy. Then, gleefully, he began to join in, flapping his arms wildly, and shouting.
It may have been a pretty good impression, but the huge grin somewhat ruined the effect... and softened my rage.
=)
Yesterday, under the influence of pregnancy hormones, I flew into quite a rage over absurdities with our apartment complex. Isaiah stared, enthralled, as I stormed about the living room, shouting my indignation and searching for harmless items to destroy. Then, gleefully, he began to join in, flapping his arms wildly, and shouting.
It may have been a pretty good impression, but the huge grin somewhat ruined the effect... and softened my rage.
=)
6.13.2005
Hello again!
Long time, no see!
After months of silence, I'm emerging once again into the world of blogging. Hopefully.
We still don't have a computer (I'm at Biola right now) but our apartment is now officially in condition to support a computer.
Amazing how complicated that can be. You cannot have a computer until you have a place to put said computer. This place should not be in close proximity to a heater. It also should not be in close proximity to toddlers. Yes, we learned both of these lessons the hard way.
The first criterion is not terribly difficult to meet, once you realize the need to take it into consideration, since heater vents generally tend to stay in the same place. Of course, as we discovered last night, this principle does not necessarily apply to the grates covering them, due to the migratory nature of toddlers... but that is another tale for another day. The point is that the the migratory nature of toddlers also serves to make the second criterion for computer placement rather more complicated. Anything that can be climbed upon will be climbed upon....
But now we have a nice, enclosed hutch, and soon we will have a computer to go in it.
AFTER we get some toddler locks!
After months of silence, I'm emerging once again into the world of blogging. Hopefully.
We still don't have a computer (I'm at Biola right now) but our apartment is now officially in condition to support a computer.
Amazing how complicated that can be. You cannot have a computer until you have a place to put said computer. This place should not be in close proximity to a heater. It also should not be in close proximity to toddlers. Yes, we learned both of these lessons the hard way.
The first criterion is not terribly difficult to meet, once you realize the need to take it into consideration, since heater vents generally tend to stay in the same place. Of course, as we discovered last night, this principle does not necessarily apply to the grates covering them, due to the migratory nature of toddlers... but that is another tale for another day. The point is that the the migratory nature of toddlers also serves to make the second criterion for computer placement rather more complicated. Anything that can be climbed upon will be climbed upon....
But now we have a nice, enclosed hutch, and soon we will have a computer to go in it.
AFTER we get some toddler locks!
5.13.2005
A new career.
For Isaiah that is. He is now a computer programmer. Unfortunately, he is not very good at it yet, despite being more experienced than I would like him to be.
This is why I haven't posted in a while.
This is why I haven't posted in a while.
4.20.2005
A soul at rest
Today I've been working on a new piece. It's atonal (surprise, surprise!), and strangely enough, falls very naturally into a strict 7/4 meter. This is the first time I've worked with an irregular meter, and I'm falling in love with the fluid forward motion it gives to the piece. Come to think of it, this is also the first time I haven't struggled with the rhythm. It simply flowed out smoothly. For the first time, I actually have a legible first draft.
More significantly, though, this is the first time that a piece of mine has not been expressive of tremendous pathos. It's simply tranquil and a little bit playful. The sort of thing that I always found impossible to even play without infusing it with all sorts of extraneous emotions.
Thank you Jesus, for your peace.
More significantly, though, this is the first time that a piece of mine has not been expressive of tremendous pathos. It's simply tranquil and a little bit playful. The sort of thing that I always found impossible to even play without infusing it with all sorts of extraneous emotions.
Thank you Jesus, for your peace.
Quickening!
September is getting to be very wiggly. It is so different having just one baby in there. There's a much more direct connection. I feel her squirm within me, and I feel that it's her. Last time, I would feel a kick, and have to sort of analyze and try to figure out which one it was.
Singleton pregnancy is a new experience for me... I like it!
Singleton pregnancy is a new experience for me... I like it!
Everything's just ducky
Well, "guck," to be precise. The bathtub is a wonderful teaching opportunity, and a few weeks ago, they started calling their beloved rubber ducky "guck."
Now Nathan calls everything "guck." He has begun pointing to things, and gleefully exclaiming "guck!"
Here I thought he'd learned associated the word with the object. It turns out he's associated it with the action of pointing.
They're such delightful little people, and I love them more by the minute.
Now Nathan calls everything "guck." He has begun pointing to things, and gleefully exclaiming "guck!"
Here I thought he'd learned associated the word with the object. It turns out he's associated it with the action of pointing.
They're such delightful little people, and I love them more by the minute.
4.19.2005
Carbonated sugar water
We've been spending a small fortune on fast food lately. I'm working on getting menu-planning and homecooked meals under control, but in the meantime, as a small step in the right direction, I'm trying to kick the soda habit. It's a total ripoff... and I don't need the caffein... but when it all comes down, in a moment of thirst I'd rather be ripped off than drink water.
So it was that on my last trip to KFC, I found myself ordering a medium Pepsi despite all my good intentions. It wasn't very crowded, so I let the pickles doopa about while I enjoyed my meal. As I watched my rambunctious boys drag chairs from table to table about the dining room, I saw another exhausted mom stumble in after her two boys. They were every bit as energetic as mine, but being considerably larger, had a much greater capacity for mischief. Their mom was obviously quite worn out trying to keep up with them. All four kids had a great time playing together, as the mom became frustrated trying to figure out what her sons wanted for lunch.
In the course of their explorations, the younger boy, about 7, grew bored with the pinball machine and turned his attention to the soda fountain. One by one, he poked his finger up each of the taps, pausing to lick it off before proceeding to the next one.
Our budget is much indebted to that little boy. Just thought I'd pass this service on my readers. =)
So it was that on my last trip to KFC, I found myself ordering a medium Pepsi despite all my good intentions. It wasn't very crowded, so I let the pickles doopa about while I enjoyed my meal. As I watched my rambunctious boys drag chairs from table to table about the dining room, I saw another exhausted mom stumble in after her two boys. They were every bit as energetic as mine, but being considerably larger, had a much greater capacity for mischief. Their mom was obviously quite worn out trying to keep up with them. All four kids had a great time playing together, as the mom became frustrated trying to figure out what her sons wanted for lunch.
In the course of their explorations, the younger boy, about 7, grew bored with the pinball machine and turned his attention to the soda fountain. One by one, he poked his finger up each of the taps, pausing to lick it off before proceeding to the next one.
Our budget is much indebted to that little boy. Just thought I'd pass this service on my readers. =)
3.30.2005
A little less wise...
...but oh, ignorance is bliss!
Yesterday I had an impacted wisdom tooth removed. The world is much brighter today. My sons are once again my darling wuggies, no longer the monsters they were the first half of the week. ("What? You want milk?!? But I fed you yesterday, you little...")
The whole experience was a surprisingly good one. The doctor was very good with the psychology of pain management. He gave the anesthetic a little bit at a time to minimize the pain, but when it came time for the final shot, he told me that this one was going to hurt. And he poked me, to show me precisely where it would hurt. Sure enough, it hurt... but I was ready for it. Then when it came time for the actual extraction, he poked first my nose, then my jaw. "See, pressure doesn't hurt. But it's quite easy to fool yourself into thinking it does." Because he had been honest in telling me when something was going to be painful, I could believe him when he told me that this wouldn't hurt. And so I ignored the sickening crack, and it didn't hurt. I'm so used to doctors and dentists trying to reassure you by lying about how it isn't going to hurt a bit.... which is really rather terrifying. In stead of giving you the reassuring thought that it isn't going to hurt, it produces the idea in your mind that you are in the hands of an untrustworthy torturer, and who knows what he's going to do to you. Honesty is really refreshing. Anyway, if you ever find yourself in need of an oral surgeon in the Whittier area, I can highly recommend Dr. Brian Chung.
Besides, he has everything all decorated with surf boards, flip-flops, and In-N-Out ads. How cool is that?
Yesterday I had an impacted wisdom tooth removed. The world is much brighter today. My sons are once again my darling wuggies, no longer the monsters they were the first half of the week. ("What? You want milk?!? But I fed you yesterday, you little...")
The whole experience was a surprisingly good one. The doctor was very good with the psychology of pain management. He gave the anesthetic a little bit at a time to minimize the pain, but when it came time for the final shot, he told me that this one was going to hurt. And he poked me, to show me precisely where it would hurt. Sure enough, it hurt... but I was ready for it. Then when it came time for the actual extraction, he poked first my nose, then my jaw. "See, pressure doesn't hurt. But it's quite easy to fool yourself into thinking it does." Because he had been honest in telling me when something was going to be painful, I could believe him when he told me that this wouldn't hurt. And so I ignored the sickening crack, and it didn't hurt. I'm so used to doctors and dentists trying to reassure you by lying about how it isn't going to hurt a bit.... which is really rather terrifying. In stead of giving you the reassuring thought that it isn't going to hurt, it produces the idea in your mind that you are in the hands of an untrustworthy torturer, and who knows what he's going to do to you. Honesty is really refreshing. Anyway, if you ever find yourself in need of an oral surgeon in the Whittier area, I can highly recommend Dr. Brian Chung.
Besides, he has everything all decorated with surf boards, flip-flops, and In-N-Out ads. How cool is that?
3.28.2005
Tootti Flutti
Nathan and Isaiah have been making great progress on the recorder, practicing a good deal. Now it seems that Nathan has decided that having figured out how to make a nice, consistent tone, it must be time for him to start working on some moderately advanced articulation.
And so he wanders about the apartment all day, mumbling "du-gu-du-gu-du-gu-du-gu-du-gu."
Silly boy. He should start out by cleaning up his single tonguing.
And so he wanders about the apartment all day, mumbling "du-gu-du-gu-du-gu-du-gu-du-gu."
Silly boy. He should start out by cleaning up his single tonguing.
Oh, how I love September...
We have a very important meeting tentatively scheduled for September 20.
Meanwhile, this is a time of great personal growth, both for me and for the family at large.
Meanwhile, this is a time of great personal growth, both for me and for the family at large.
3.19.2005
Share the Luvs
Actual testimonial displayed on an actual box of actual diapers...
"I like your diapers, especially how they hug the baby's legs. My granddaughter uses them now. We are passing them down from generation to generation."
h
"I like your diapers, especially how they hug the baby's legs. My granddaughter uses them now. We are passing them down from generation to generation."
h
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