"pity the poor in spirit who know neither the enchantment nor the beauty of language."

Paloma, 12-year old co-narrator of The Elegance of the Hedgehog by Muriel Barbery:

"Personally I think that grammar is a way to attain beauty.  When you speak, or read, or write, you can tell if you've said or read or written a fine sentence.  You can recognize a well-turned phrase or an elegant style.  But when you are applying the rules of grammar skillfully, you ascend to another level of the beauty of language.  When you use grammar you peel back the layers, to see how it is all put together, see it quite naked, in a way.  And that's where it becomes wonderful, because you say to yourself, "Look how well-made this is, how well-constructed it is!  How sold and ingenious, rich and subtle!"  I get completely carried away just knowing there are words of all different natures, and that you have to know them in order to be able to infer their potential usage and compatibility.  I find there is nothing more beautiful, for example, than the very basic components of language, nouns and verbs.  When you've grasped this, you've grasped the core of any statement.  It's magnificent, don't you think?  Nouns, verbs..."

Ah.

a good and timely word

so, this morning i was reading in 2 corinthians, chapter 4 and came across a few verses that are so familiar, but that i hadn't really paused over before:

We are afflicted in every way, but not crushed; perplexed, but not driven to despair; persecuted, but not forsaken; struck down, but not destroyed; always carrying in the body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be manifested in our bodies. (v. 8-10)

there's so much there that is dramatic and a little scary--being afflicted, persecuted, struck down--but what stood out to me today is that we are "perplexed, but not driven to despair."  i don't often feel particularly persecuted in dramatic ways.  but i do feel perplexed.  often.  and it's hard, sometimes, not to feel like that is going to tip right on over into despair. 

so, it's encouraging to me that we do not have to understand everything--that we will not understand everything--and that that is okay.  we can be perplexed.  we are perplexed.  but, because of Jesus, we are not driven to despair. 

what a relief.

roygbiv

this happened completely on accident.  i swear!  a little touch of beauty in the midst of the mundane.

a lovely puritan benediction

I'm reading William Bradford's Of Plymouth Plantation for the early American literature class I'm teaching this term and he includes in it a letter the pastor the first Puritan colonists left behind in the Netherlands, John Robinson, wrote to his brother-in-law, John Carver (the colony's first governor).  Bradford says that in the letter, we see "the tender love and godly care of a true pastor."  And I think he's right. 

Robinson closes his letter to Carver with the following benediction:

"And the Lord in whom you trust and whom you serve ever in this business and journey, guide you with His hand, protect you with His wing, and show you and us His salvation in the end..."

I think that is so lovely.  And encouraging.  How great is it that I get to be encouraged like this while I'm preparing to teach my classes?  Pretty great.

transitional phases

i was listening to NPR the other day and there was a spot about this physicist guy who studies the transitional phases of something fancy that i don't remember the details about.  but what stood out to me was the way this physicist was talking about how elements go through transitional phases--like ice to liquid water to steam--and how in the transition between states, something kind of mysterious happens.

and this made me think about how transitions and change are not always my favorite thing.  and about how i sometimes can be pretty hard on myself about not liking moments of transition.

somehow the idea that even water--an element that has no emotions, no psychology, no anything except material existence--has to go through an awkward, mysterious, not-completely-understood transitional phase as it moves between states made me feel better about whatever weirdness i experience as i move between states in my own life.

it's a sort of affirmation that the difficulty of transition is natural--not just me not knowing how to do it right.

new year, new you.

i am probably not unique in the fact that i have a love/hate relationship with new year's resolutions.  on the one hand, the idea of a fresh start, a new beginning, a marked time for change is really appealing.  on the other hand, it always feels like it comes with SO MUCH PRESSURE.  in all caps.  just like that.

so.  this year, i almost resolved not to resolve.  but then i had a change of heart.  and i decided to resolve to resolve gently.  to resolve to do things i *want* to do anyway.  to resolve to do things i *already* do, but to do them slightly better.  as proof of my gentleness, i have not started on a single one of my resolutions.  except, now, this one: to actually write in this space more frequently. even if i feel like i have nothing to say. (thanks for the nudge, darby)

my other resolutions feel mundane, so i'll save listing them out.  but the gist of it is to work towards living the life i want to live, but don't think i have time for.  with some resolve, i'm betting i have more time to do the things i want to do than i think i do. 

happy new year!

variations on a theme

read this morning:

"The faithful love of the Lord never ends! His mercies never cease.  Great is his faithfulness; his mercies begin afresh each morning.  I say to myself, 'The Lord is my inheritance; therefore I will hope in him!"

The Lord is good to those who depend on him, to those who search for him.  So it is good to wait quietly for salvation from the Lord."

--Lamentations 3: 22-26