Everybody knows that if you want your kids to grow up into intelligent, literate, critical thinking people, you have to read to them lots and lots, starting when they are very very young. And everybody knows that the thing to read to the very young is picture books. Lots and lots of picture books, with lots and lots of brightly colored illustrations, and a few words sprinkled in here and there.
Everybody knows this, right?
Now I have lots of logical reasons and trustworthy authority to back up the idea that certain sorts of literature are extremely beneficial to small children... but it suddenly occurred to me that I believe picture books are indispensable precisely because the folks who bring us Sesame Street say so. Not to say anything against the sundry wonderfulnesses of Sesame Street--I like Cookie Monster as well as the next girl--but if you think that Sesame Street is the key to becoming an excellent reader, I have a few Nigerian bank accounts I'd like to sell you.
This doesn't necessarily mean that my belief about the importance of picture books was wrong. It does, however, mean that I had the wrong reasons for believing it.
Just because silly people believe something doesn't make it false, but it certainly doesn't make it true, either.
Picture books may, in fact, be incredibly important--but I need a better reason.
So can you help me out here?
Why should I read picture books to my kids?
3.25.2009
3.23.2009
Good Work
My Daddy has a great story about getting kicked out of school.
Twice.
When he was homeschooled.
While his mother was busy with his brother and sister, he'd slip out the back door and ride his bike around the cow-paths. Finally Grandma gave up and told him "Go ahead and grow up to dig ditches." I can just hear her saying that, too. Grandma was quite a lady.
****
As a member of the board of directors for our townhouse association, Andrew's been pretty busy over the last week or so.
There's a bunch of rotten trim on some of the units, and we've hired a contracting company to replace it all. The crews are doing very high quality work... on about a third of affected boards. Now they've started caulking tidily over the rotten wood, and they're asking for clarification about paint colors. Andrew and the other board members have been going crazy trying to make sure they actually do the carpentry work, and don't just paint right over wood that's so soft you can stick your finger through it.
It's... been... very... frustrating.
I'm not sure what's going on--if they're trying to cheat us, or if there's some serious miscommunication, or what. And you know, I really don't want to know--wise as serpents, harmless as doves and all that. But what kills me is that every bit of this project is being done by human beings, made in the image of God. Human beings, made in the image of God, endowed by their Creator with reason, called by Him to rule the earth with order and reason in a glorious display of His magnificence... and they're skillfully caulking over squishy rotten wood.
We'll get the work done, one way or another. But the human tragedy makes me sick inside.
****
The spectre of ditch-digging kept driving Daddy back to his lessons... but the lovely hills of the Brazillian countryside would ever lure him out again.
Finally Grandma gave up for good, and sent him to a Christian boarding school back in the States. You know what they say about homeschooling not being for everyone? I guess it must be true.
****
We have a new landscape maintenance guy. I waved hello while I was out getting something from the car, and he put down his rake and offered a firm handshake. Exuding courtesy and professionalism, he spoke with me about his vision for improving the quality of the landscape. He was still waiting for some of his equipment, so at the moment he was only able to water those lawns which happened to have hoses right there, but he assured me that he would soon get the grass nice and green for us. He also mentioned that he was looking forward to getting a leaf blower... but in the meantime, it was obvious that he was cheerfully and thoroughly getting the job done with the limited tools at hand.
A few days later, I saw him out front again. "I see you've got your leaf blower now."
He grinned back at me. "I'm like a kid with a new toy!"
****
Off at boarding school, Daddy found a deep relationship with Christ, and became an earnest scholar, a serious thinker, and just the sort of young man to make any mother proud.
But his first job out of college was digging ditches, and Grandma never did let him forget it.
****
We went camping last weekend. We've been thinking so very hard about so many important things--I was looking forward to a break. But I guess the wilderness is not always a resting place. Sometimes it's simply the space to see where you've been all along. We thought about our thinking, and we thought some more, and most of it came back around to what we really want for our kids, educationally speaking. I guess it's just more of that same conversation that started in the writing center in Sutherland Hall, nine years ago.
We thought and we thought, and we talked and we talked, and you know what I realized? It really doesn't matter to me what work my children do. I want them to do good work, and I want them to do it well. If they grow up to dig ditches, that's just fine with me, as long as they bring the full and glorious dignity of their humanity to bear on their ditch-digging.
Perhaps they'll be doctors or lawyers or engineers... I hope to provide them with an education that will open up whatever vocational doors they choose to walk through. But oh, when they are stronger, and can choose what they're to do....
Mr. Stevenson, I hope they'll go 'round at night and light the lamps with you.
Twice.
When he was homeschooled.
While his mother was busy with his brother and sister, he'd slip out the back door and ride his bike around the cow-paths. Finally Grandma gave up and told him "Go ahead and grow up to dig ditches." I can just hear her saying that, too. Grandma was quite a lady.
****
As a member of the board of directors for our townhouse association, Andrew's been pretty busy over the last week or so.
There's a bunch of rotten trim on some of the units, and we've hired a contracting company to replace it all. The crews are doing very high quality work... on about a third of affected boards. Now they've started caulking tidily over the rotten wood, and they're asking for clarification about paint colors. Andrew and the other board members have been going crazy trying to make sure they actually do the carpentry work, and don't just paint right over wood that's so soft you can stick your finger through it.
It's... been... very... frustrating.
I'm not sure what's going on--if they're trying to cheat us, or if there's some serious miscommunication, or what. And you know, I really don't want to know--wise as serpents, harmless as doves and all that. But what kills me is that every bit of this project is being done by human beings, made in the image of God. Human beings, made in the image of God, endowed by their Creator with reason, called by Him to rule the earth with order and reason in a glorious display of His magnificence... and they're skillfully caulking over squishy rotten wood.
We'll get the work done, one way or another. But the human tragedy makes me sick inside.
****
The spectre of ditch-digging kept driving Daddy back to his lessons... but the lovely hills of the Brazillian countryside would ever lure him out again.
Finally Grandma gave up for good, and sent him to a Christian boarding school back in the States. You know what they say about homeschooling not being for everyone? I guess it must be true.
****
We have a new landscape maintenance guy. I waved hello while I was out getting something from the car, and he put down his rake and offered a firm handshake. Exuding courtesy and professionalism, he spoke with me about his vision for improving the quality of the landscape. He was still waiting for some of his equipment, so at the moment he was only able to water those lawns which happened to have hoses right there, but he assured me that he would soon get the grass nice and green for us. He also mentioned that he was looking forward to getting a leaf blower... but in the meantime, it was obvious that he was cheerfully and thoroughly getting the job done with the limited tools at hand.
A few days later, I saw him out front again. "I see you've got your leaf blower now."
He grinned back at me. "I'm like a kid with a new toy!"
****
Off at boarding school, Daddy found a deep relationship with Christ, and became an earnest scholar, a serious thinker, and just the sort of young man to make any mother proud.
But his first job out of college was digging ditches, and Grandma never did let him forget it.
****
We went camping last weekend. We've been thinking so very hard about so many important things--I was looking forward to a break. But I guess the wilderness is not always a resting place. Sometimes it's simply the space to see where you've been all along. We thought about our thinking, and we thought some more, and most of it came back around to what we really want for our kids, educationally speaking. I guess it's just more of that same conversation that started in the writing center in Sutherland Hall, nine years ago.
We thought and we thought, and we talked and we talked, and you know what I realized? It really doesn't matter to me what work my children do. I want them to do good work, and I want them to do it well. If they grow up to dig ditches, that's just fine with me, as long as they bring the full and glorious dignity of their humanity to bear on their ditch-digging.
Perhaps they'll be doctors or lawyers or engineers... I hope to provide them with an education that will open up whatever vocational doors they choose to walk through. But oh, when they are stronger, and can choose what they're to do....
Mr. Stevenson, I hope they'll go 'round at night and light the lamps with you.
Authority
Since I've started categorizing my beliefs, I've discovered that I believe a lot of things on authority. That's not surprising in itself. I'm very small, and there's no way I could possibly figure out for myself everything I need to know. People who don't take anything on authority generally die from eating poisonous mushrooms. Or the fruit from the tree in the middle of the garden. Or legos, for that matter. (Oh how we miss the legos, now that Willie's dooping about...)
Of course I take things on authority. What's strange is that I accept on authority precisely those things that I think I'm basing on logic.
This is a terrific way to be duped.
We should take things on authority only from people we consider trustworthy. We must have reason to believe that they (a.) know what they're talking about, and (b.) are telling us the truth.
If we are serious about truth, we need to make wise judgments about which sources are trustworthy. We can only do that if we are conscious and intentional about it.
If we think we're operating on the basis of logic and evidence, we'll accept Edmund's testimony over Lucy's every time.
Which is a great way to get yourself conned.
Of course I take things on authority. What's strange is that I accept on authority precisely those things that I think I'm basing on logic.
This is a terrific way to be duped.
We should take things on authority only from people we consider trustworthy. We must have reason to believe that they (a.) know what they're talking about, and (b.) are telling us the truth.
If we are serious about truth, we need to make wise judgments about which sources are trustworthy. We can only do that if we are conscious and intentional about it.
If we think we're operating on the basis of logic and evidence, we'll accept Edmund's testimony over Lucy's every time.
Which is a great way to get yourself conned.
3.11.2009
Why?
I have a confession to make.
I always sort of assumed that epistemology was a dry and dusty discipline, mostly theoretical, with little to recommend it in the way of real-world application.
Not that I have anything against dry and dusty disciplines--in fact I've always found them fascinating. But, well... sort of in the same category as crossword puzzles or sudoku. Brilliant fun and all that, but that's about as far as it goes.
I feel very, very silly admitting to these thoughts. Of course if I'd ever actually thought about them explicitly, I would have denounced them immediately... but never having had occasion to put words to these assumptions, I was free to keep right on assuming them until quite recently.
So I shall now state the obvious(which was obviously not obvious to me).
Epistemology is terribly important for anyone who'd rather not be suckered.
If you want the truth about anything--anything at all, from how to make a good pancake to the origin of the universe--you'd jolly well better make sure you're skilled in the ways of knowing the truth about stuff.
So I've started asking myself "why?"
Not asking why it's true--I'm quite used to asking myself that question--but rather asking why I think it's true.
There's a subtle difference between the two questions, and they're both important. It's important to know what evidence supports your beliefs, but it's also important to know why you accept that evidence, and in what way that evidence supports your belief.
Do I believe this on the basis of reason, a compelling logical argument that I clearly understand? (Logos)
Or do I believe it on the say-so of a trustworthy authority? (Ethos)
Or is it simply because it resonates with my soul, and I know it must be so? (Pathos)
I always sort of assumed that epistemology was a dry and dusty discipline, mostly theoretical, with little to recommend it in the way of real-world application.
Not that I have anything against dry and dusty disciplines--in fact I've always found them fascinating. But, well... sort of in the same category as crossword puzzles or sudoku. Brilliant fun and all that, but that's about as far as it goes.
I feel very, very silly admitting to these thoughts. Of course if I'd ever actually thought about them explicitly, I would have denounced them immediately... but never having had occasion to put words to these assumptions, I was free to keep right on assuming them until quite recently.
So I shall now state the obvious(which was obviously not obvious to me).
Epistemology is terribly important for anyone who'd rather not be suckered.
If you want the truth about anything--anything at all, from how to make a good pancake to the origin of the universe--you'd jolly well better make sure you're skilled in the ways of knowing the truth about stuff.
So I've started asking myself "why?"
Not asking why it's true--I'm quite used to asking myself that question--but rather asking why I think it's true.
There's a subtle difference between the two questions, and they're both important. It's important to know what evidence supports your beliefs, but it's also important to know why you accept that evidence, and in what way that evidence supports your belief.
Do I believe this on the basis of reason, a compelling logical argument that I clearly understand? (Logos)
Or do I believe it on the say-so of a trustworthy authority? (Ethos)
Or is it simply because it resonates with my soul, and I know it must be so? (Pathos)
3.10.2009
CPSIA Goes to the Farmers Market
Dear Congresswoman Lee,
Please vote no on H.R. 875: Food Safety Modernization Act of 2009. As written, this bill would effectively squash local farmers markets under mountains of paperwork. Eating locally grown food is a good idea at any time, and in the event of a major national disaster, it could very well become the only way to eat anything whatsoever. Please protect my right to buy local food from people I know and trust, without bureaucratic interference.
Mommy always warned me against accepting food from strangers. Unfortunately, it's pretty much unavoidable these days. Government regulations can help make that a little less dangerous--but I'd still rather buy food from my own neighbors.
Please protect my right to buy local food for my children. Vote NO on H.R. 875.
Thank you,
Elena Johnston
http://www.govtrack.us/congress/billtext.xpd?bill=h111-875
Hat tip to the Deputy Headmistress.
Contact your own representative here.
Please vote no on H.R. 875: Food Safety Modernization Act of 2009. As written, this bill would effectively squash local farmers markets under mountains of paperwork. Eating locally grown food is a good idea at any time, and in the event of a major national disaster, it could very well become the only way to eat anything whatsoever. Please protect my right to buy local food from people I know and trust, without bureaucratic interference.
Mommy always warned me against accepting food from strangers. Unfortunately, it's pretty much unavoidable these days. Government regulations can help make that a little less dangerous--but I'd still rather buy food from my own neighbors.
Please protect my right to buy local food for my children. Vote NO on H.R. 875.
Thank you,
Elena Johnston
http://www.govtrack.us/congress/billtext.xpd?bill=h111-875
Hat tip to the Deputy Headmistress.
Contact your own representative here.
Baby Doll
"Mommy, I have a baby just like you!"
"That's wonderful, sweetheart. What's his name?"
"Oh, he doesn't have a name. He's fake. But YOUR baby's not fake!"
"That's wonderful, sweetheart. What's his name?"
"Oh, he doesn't have a name. He's fake. But YOUR baby's not fake!"
3.09.2009
Lenten Carnival
You should head on over to Homemaking Through the Church Year, where Jessica is hosting a lenten carnival.
I know most evangelicals don't observe lent. And there's certainly nothing obligatory about it. But the themes that our liturgical brethren are thinking about during this season are important ones for every Christian.
One of the reasons why liturgical churches follow a unified yearly schedule is so as to facilitate a sort of worldwide conversation--lots of believers thinking about the same things all at once.
Right now they're thinking about repentance, and sanctification, and the costly grace that makes it possible. About the long, hard process of disentangling oneself from the things that keep us from being fully devoted to Christ. Living in the already and the not yet, waiting for Easter.
Of course, I don't agree with everything in all the posts, but I do think the conversation is worth listening in on.
Remember, O man, that thou are dust, and to dust thou shalt return...
I know most evangelicals don't observe lent. And there's certainly nothing obligatory about it. But the themes that our liturgical brethren are thinking about during this season are important ones for every Christian.
One of the reasons why liturgical churches follow a unified yearly schedule is so as to facilitate a sort of worldwide conversation--lots of believers thinking about the same things all at once.
Right now they're thinking about repentance, and sanctification, and the costly grace that makes it possible. About the long, hard process of disentangling oneself from the things that keep us from being fully devoted to Christ. Living in the already and the not yet, waiting for Easter.
Of course, I don't agree with everything in all the posts, but I do think the conversation is worth listening in on.
Remember, O man, that thou are dust, and to dust thou shalt return...
3.05.2009
In Which Kanga Decides She Really Must Read Some Cicero
There's an idea--a set of categories, really--floating about the intellectual waters hereabouts. I think it comes from Cicero, but I am sadly unaware as to which work. My exposure to Cicero is limited to De Amicitia, and involves quite possibly the most romantic attempted breakup story ever... but that's another tale for another time.
Now, where was I? Ah, yes. Epistemology.
Somebody once said, (and I think it was Cicero, but I'm not sure where) that there are four ways of knowing. Or perhaps it was of convincing; I think it matters not. At any rate, they are as follows: Logos (having to do, predictably enough, with logic), ethos (having to do with authority of character), and pathos (having to do with emotion and aesthetics.) The obligation to believe is produced through the union of these three elements.
I'm quite sure that I'm not doing these ideas justice at all, and I'm equally certain that they are of Extreme and Great Importance.
So I need to read some Cicero. And if anyone has any suggestions as to which particular works I need to read, I'd be quite grateful.
In the mean time, I'm finding that these categories have all sorts of uses in organizing the cluttered closets of one's mind.
Now, where was I? Ah, yes. Epistemology.
Somebody once said, (and I think it was Cicero, but I'm not sure where) that there are four ways of knowing. Or perhaps it was of convincing; I think it matters not. At any rate, they are as follows: Logos (having to do, predictably enough, with logic), ethos (having to do with authority of character), and pathos (having to do with emotion and aesthetics.) The obligation to believe is produced through the union of these three elements.
I'm quite sure that I'm not doing these ideas justice at all, and I'm equally certain that they are of Extreme and Great Importance.
So I need to read some Cicero. And if anyone has any suggestions as to which particular works I need to read, I'd be quite grateful.
In the mean time, I'm finding that these categories have all sorts of uses in organizing the cluttered closets of one's mind.
3.04.2009
CPSIA links
Here's the statement from the CPSC saying that "ordinary children's books published after 1985" are okay. (It's on page 4.) A footnote explicitly excludes books with plastic or metal parts.
Is this reassuring, or dreadful? Well, it all depends on how you spin it.
It sounds to me as though our freedom of speech is spinning swiftly down the drain.
Please, I beg of you, dear men and women of the Congress, convince me otherwise!
Walter Olson is providing fantastic coverage of the CPSIA issues, with lots of links.
And the Deputy Headmistress has a good many posts showing why we should care deeply about this issue. And phone numbers for whose switchboards to bombard. =)
Is this reassuring, or dreadful? Well, it all depends on how you spin it.
It sounds to me as though our freedom of speech is spinning swiftly down the drain.
Please, I beg of you, dear men and women of the Congress, convince me otherwise!
Walter Olson is providing fantastic coverage of the CPSIA issues, with lots of links.
And the Deputy Headmistress has a good many posts showing why we should care deeply about this issue. And phone numbers for whose switchboards to bombard. =)
Lent
Wait, wait, O my flesh.
Wait, and learn to trust.
Wait, for it is in the waiting you are sanctified.
Wait, wait, O my soul.
With patient longing, wait to be made holy.
Wait, for it is in the waiting that you learn to trust.
Wait, and learn to trust.
Wait, for it is in the waiting you are sanctified.
Wait, wait, O my soul.
With patient longing, wait to be made holy.
Wait, for it is in the waiting that you learn to trust.
3.01.2009
Depth of Texture
At 6 months, Willie spends most of his time closely examining sundry objects. It's just what you do when you're 6 months old, as inevitable and instinctual as the craving for mother's milk.
The merest twig is well worth close examination. The works of God are marvelous, and their beauty bears up even under a lifetime of inspection.
There is a time and a place for the bright flashing plastic, so demandingly undemanding, that lulls him into forgetfulness while I tend to other things.
Yes, there is most definitely a time and a place--but it is for my sake much more than his.
For his sake, the pinecones and leaves, that he may not strive endlessly after mudpies, but be content with the sea.
The merest twig is well worth close examination. The works of God are marvelous, and their beauty bears up even under a lifetime of inspection.
There is a time and a place for the bright flashing plastic, so demandingly undemanding, that lulls him into forgetfulness while I tend to other things.
Yes, there is most definitely a time and a place--but it is for my sake much more than his.
For his sake, the pinecones and leaves, that he may not strive endlessly after mudpies, but be content with the sea.
2.28.2009
In Which Piglet teaches Pooh and Tigger about Time
September: Mama, I'm feeling eleven-o'clockish.
Isaiah: I'm feeling twelve-o'clockish!
Nathan: And I'm feeling two-o'clockish!
September: No, Nassan, two-o'clockish is for later.
Isaiah: I'm feeling twelve-o'clockish!
Nathan: And I'm feeling two-o'clockish!
September: No, Nassan, two-o'clockish is for later.
Testing, testing, 123
My blog seems to be gone? Individual post pages are still there, and the sidebar... but where's the main page?
Help?
Help?
2.27.2009
Gutenberg all over again
I just can't get over the fact that now, thanks to audible.com, an ordinary housewife can afford to have a first-rate actor read the scriptures to her and her kids all day.
This is huge.
Many books today are written to be read.
Not so the Bible. The Bible was written to be heard.
And this ESV audiobook is phenomenal.
Good stuff. Life-changingly good stuff. I can't recommend it enough.
This is huge.
Many books today are written to be read.
Not so the Bible. The Bible was written to be heard.
And this ESV audiobook is phenomenal.
Good stuff. Life-changingly good stuff. I can't recommend it enough.
2.26.2009
Hello, stranger!
It's been a while, hasn't it.
I'm surprised you even bothered to check.
I guess I should have expected that I would slow down on the blogging after the arrival of wuggy number 4.
And sure enough.
But somehow it's not because life with four kids is so much crazier, and I don't have time to think.
It's that life is calm. Reflective. Good.
Very good.
And my whole soul has been abuzz with so many thoughts... big thoughts... unfinished thoughts. And while those thoughts we're buzzing, I couldn't really write about them--not 'till I figured out what they were. And I certainly couldn't write about anything else.
But now, though I'm far from answers, I at least know a few of the questions I'm trying to ask. So I think I might be at a place where I can write about them a little bit, and also at a place where I can write about other things.
Like the family of roly-poly bugs in the compost, a young couple expecting their first child. Whom they will indubitably name Harry.
So hello again, and thanks so much for stopping by. I look forward to chatting again soon.
I'm surprised you even bothered to check.
I guess I should have expected that I would slow down on the blogging after the arrival of wuggy number 4.
And sure enough.
But somehow it's not because life with four kids is so much crazier, and I don't have time to think.
It's that life is calm. Reflective. Good.
Very good.
And my whole soul has been abuzz with so many thoughts... big thoughts... unfinished thoughts. And while those thoughts we're buzzing, I couldn't really write about them--not 'till I figured out what they were. And I certainly couldn't write about anything else.
But now, though I'm far from answers, I at least know a few of the questions I'm trying to ask. So I think I might be at a place where I can write about them a little bit, and also at a place where I can write about other things.
Like the family of roly-poly bugs in the compost, a young couple expecting their first child. Whom they will indubitably name Harry.
So hello again, and thanks so much for stopping by. I look forward to chatting again soon.
2.25.2009
Dear Senator Hutchinson,
I stopped by the local friends-of-the-library book sale yesterday. There's a sign up saying that they are no longer permitted to sell used children's books.
I hadn't taken the internet rumors seriously, but there's no denying it now. Regardless of the good intentions of the law, the CPSIA, as it currently stands written, is preventing me from purchasing old books to read to my children. Vendors now understand it to be illegal to distribute children's books published in the year 1984 or earlier, and many sellers are no longer selling any used children's books at all.
Inside the library, the librarian assured me that they hadn't removed any of the books off the circulation shelves yet. The CPSC has granted libraries a temporary immunity from enforcement of the law.
I'm glad I can still check books out of the library for one year more... but my right to read to my children is now at the mercy of a bureaucracy.
This is not the American way. I never had a chance to vote on the members of the CPSC. They do not represent us, they are not the ones with whom the Constitution has entrusted the responsibility of guarding our rights. I want to live governed by the laws that you write, Senator Hutchinson, you and the other fine men and women of our congress.
I know that these are busy times for senators. You are being asked to vote on more bills than you could possibly have time to even read. This may not seem very important by comparison.
But it is.
As we speak, our children's consciousness of the past is literally being thrown into dumpsters all across America.
Those who are unaware of the past stumble blindly through the present into a future marred by avoidable foolishness. This matters, and it matters now more than ever.
Thank you for your service in representing me and my fellow Texans.
May God give you strength and blessing as you guard and protect the freedoms that make our land so great.
God bless America!
Elena Johnston
I stopped by the local friends-of-the-library book sale yesterday. There's a sign up saying that they are no longer permitted to sell used children's books.
I hadn't taken the internet rumors seriously, but there's no denying it now. Regardless of the good intentions of the law, the CPSIA, as it currently stands written, is preventing me from purchasing old books to read to my children. Vendors now understand it to be illegal to distribute children's books published in the year 1984 or earlier, and many sellers are no longer selling any used children's books at all.
Inside the library, the librarian assured me that they hadn't removed any of the books off the circulation shelves yet. The CPSC has granted libraries a temporary immunity from enforcement of the law.
I'm glad I can still check books out of the library for one year more... but my right to read to my children is now at the mercy of a bureaucracy.
This is not the American way. I never had a chance to vote on the members of the CPSC. They do not represent us, they are not the ones with whom the Constitution has entrusted the responsibility of guarding our rights. I want to live governed by the laws that you write, Senator Hutchinson, you and the other fine men and women of our congress.
I know that these are busy times for senators. You are being asked to vote on more bills than you could possibly have time to even read. This may not seem very important by comparison.
But it is.
As we speak, our children's consciousness of the past is literally being thrown into dumpsters all across America.
Those who are unaware of the past stumble blindly through the present into a future marred by avoidable foolishness. This matters, and it matters now more than ever.
Thank you for your service in representing me and my fellow Texans.
May God give you strength and blessing as you guard and protect the freedoms that make our land so great.
God bless America!
Elena Johnston
12.26.2008
Above and Beyond
Upon seeing Andrew riding his bike to work, a family at the school realized that we must be in serious need of a vehicle... and gave us a perfectly gorgeous 2000 Expedition.No, I'm not joking.
It's sitting in our carport right now.
And the van--which had been running smoothly ever since we began to pray for it incessantly--has now stopped running.
We were fully confident that God would provide for our transportation needs. We just had no idea that He'd do it so spectacularly.
And His timing, as always, was nothing less than impeccable.
12.12.2008
Idyllic afternoon
It's been quite nippy out--it even snowed on Wednesday--but this afternoon was lovely and sunshiny. Isaiah led the older three in assisting the roly-poly bugs in their farming endeavors--didn't you know that roly-poly bugs plant their crops in neatly plowed little rows? Willard discovered grass, and Nathan collected fallen leaves, showing me how each leaf changes color progressively, green-golden-red, while I ambled slowly through the Republic. Plato improves with interruptions, I think--it gives the dialogue breathing room, keeps me from rushing on too fast. All the questions about the good life become so much more immediate, too, and it's very sweet indeed to step back and see that this is precisely it.
12.04.2008
12.03.2008
Campfire Questions
For Thanksgiving, we went camping with some friends from Andrew's work. It is a good thing to strip everything away and touch what's real. Even the rain dripping into the sleeping bags is real, and being real, it is good.
A good way to judge the real-ness of things, I think, is to try to explain them to a four-year old. As it turns out, it is much easier to explain electromagnetism to a preschooler than, oh, say, the CMA awards. Or the phrase "dot org." The things God makes are quite frequently much more complicated than the things man makes, but they are real and solid on every level.
Kids this age will ask a million questions wherever you are--it's just what they're supposed to do. The difference is that out in the woods, the questions that they ask are all well worth answering. Sometimes I don't know the answer, like the question "what do armadillos eat?", and sometimes the questions lead to more questions, like "what is fire made of?", but the questions are always worth exploring.
In case you were wondering, armadillos snuffle through the leaves looking for grubs. And although I still have no idea what fire is, I can tell you that the pre-Socratics make a whole lot more sense when you're sitting around a campfire with preschoolers.
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