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It was one of those days. I woke up this morning, and the first thing I noticed was that a particularly bad habit, which I thought had been practically eradicated never to return, was most definitely back in exactly the same strain. Then, in church this morning two year old sister was good, but mum rustled plastic bags incredibly loudly. The preacher spoke about how lying was an awful sin (well, I agree, but I do tell a few white lies). And not only that, but the other girl my age had a boy with her (no comment). This afternoon, I realized that the rain wasn't going to let up so I had to clean the rat's cage in it. And it could have been cleaned yesterday, when it wasn't raining. I tried to blog, and found that my confidence was at an all time low (and my high confidence is probably another person's low confidence), resulting in me deleting the blog. At church this evening, mum sang the first hymn really loudly—with my confidence so low, that simple act brought tears to my eyes—and the prospect of the dentist tomorrow wasn't (and still isn't) doing anything to cheer me up at all.
After the hymn, the preacher prayed. I'm not a good girl, never have been. So while he was praying about goodness knows what, I was silently praying "Lord, please disable mum's voice so that she can't sing loudly." No, I am not joking here. The people at church sing softly, and when there's one person in the room singing twice as loudly as everyone else it attracts attention. And strangely enough—I feel semi guilty about this, actually—but mum sang hymns at a reasonable volume for the rest of the service.
And then the readings started. He read a passage from Deuteronomy, another from Joshua, and yet another from Hebrews. That's the advantage to a visiting preacher. We get more readings. But the first two focused very heavily on the fact that God will not leave us, nor forsake us. And that was exactly what poor little grumpy me needed to hear.
He preached on the same topic; the particular verse he chose to speak about was Hebrews 13:5-6, copied here: Let your conversation be without covetousness; and be content with such things as ye have: for he hath said, I will never leave thee, nor forsake thee. So that we may boldly say, The Lord is my helper, and I will not fear what man shall do unto me.
And if God can order things just so that there's a sermon on the exact thing which is guaranteed to uplift me, if he takes care of the little things like that, then it just makes me more inclined to believe that he orders and plans everything. I find it incredibly fascinating that things should be timed like that. Why God should take care of me is another matter; it never fails to surprise me that he does. However, that God can and will take care of me is always something that I've clung onto, so it shouldn't really surprise me at all.
Anyway, hopefully in eighty years time (if I'm not dead/senile or the Lord hasn't returned by then) I really will be able to look at back at my life and explain to my great grandchildren that God really does plan everything, even our biggest mistakes, for good.
I'm not sure if that's of interest to anyone else apart from me. But because I'm in one of those moods where I'm literally humming in happiness, I shall post it. In fact: my blog, therefore I post things that interest me. Okay?
Sunday, 28 October 2007
Sunday, 21 October 2007
Tinned spaghetti and boxes of bananas
Who buys spaghetti in tins? Is it only me who couldn't think of anything more nasty than tinned spaghetti? Although I have eaten tinned pasta in the past, and it was quite nice, buying it just isn't something that sounds advisable.
Going by the fact that they were selling four packs of it in Sainsburys yesterday for 42p or something similar, it would seem that they're not people's favorite food. Apparently they were clearing them. Apparently they were also a brilliant bargain. You will be pleased to hear that we saved a lot of money on tinned spaghetti, choosing to leave it all in the shop.
They must have been selling it at a loss, though, in an attempt to get rid of it before it passed its best before date. And some people were buying it, so they were succeeding in their aim.
Apparently it looks better for the shop if something gets sold at a discount than if something gets thrown away. Apparently this is because of the way they do their accounting; discounts go down on the supermarket chain's budget, whereas stuff that's thrown away goes down on the individual shop's budget. So selling things at a discount makes the manager look better.
I don't know if that's true; I heard it off a man whose holiday cottage we stayed in one year. He had a small holding, and he told us that he went to Tescos and saw that they were going to throw away green bananas because they were past their best before date. Apparently he told the manager that his pigs would eat them happily. He asked the manager how much he wanted for them, and the manager said that he'd like a penny for each boxful. This surprised the man, who pointed out to the manager that at that price he might as well just give them to him. Then the manager told him that to sell them at discount was better for him than to give them away,
as if he gave them away that would go down on the store's budget. But to discount them would mean that the loss would go down on the chain's budget. And so, discounting them made it look a whole lot better for him, as manager.
I know, maybe not a very reliable source of information. But other things he was saying—like the fact that he gave up smoking when he got the small holding, otherwise he would have had no money to eat—sounded reliable enough.
It's probably worrying that my best memory of that holiday is actually listening to him and his wife talk while we fed their pigs banana skins. And it may be even more worrying that I remember best what was said about the manager of their local tescos and his boxes of bananas.
Going by the fact that they were selling four packs of it in Sainsburys yesterday for 42p or something similar, it would seem that they're not people's favorite food. Apparently they were clearing them. Apparently they were also a brilliant bargain. You will be pleased to hear that we saved a lot of money on tinned spaghetti, choosing to leave it all in the shop.
They must have been selling it at a loss, though, in an attempt to get rid of it before it passed its best before date. And some people were buying it, so they were succeeding in their aim.
Apparently it looks better for the shop if something gets sold at a discount than if something gets thrown away. Apparently this is because of the way they do their accounting; discounts go down on the supermarket chain's budget, whereas stuff that's thrown away goes down on the individual shop's budget. So selling things at a discount makes the manager look better.
I don't know if that's true; I heard it off a man whose holiday cottage we stayed in one year. He had a small holding, and he told us that he went to Tescos and saw that they were going to throw away green bananas because they were past their best before date. Apparently he told the manager that his pigs would eat them happily. He asked the manager how much he wanted for them, and the manager said that he'd like a penny for each boxful. This surprised the man, who pointed out to the manager that at that price he might as well just give them to him. Then the manager told him that to sell them at discount was better for him than to give them away,
as if he gave them away that would go down on the store's budget. But to discount them would mean that the loss would go down on the chain's budget. And so, discounting them made it look a whole lot better for him, as manager.
I know, maybe not a very reliable source of information. But other things he was saying—like the fact that he gave up smoking when he got the small holding, otherwise he would have had no money to eat—sounded reliable enough.
It's probably worrying that my best memory of that holiday is actually listening to him and his wife talk while we fed their pigs banana skins. And it may be even more worrying that I remember best what was said about the manager of their local tescos and his boxes of bananas.
Saturday, 20 October 2007
Not an action story
...but a story all the same. Yes that's right, today you're getting a short story (if you want to waste your time reading it). I felt like a change. A few things to note before I begin, though.
1. There are no prizes for guessing what I was doing between eight and nine last night. However, what follows can in no way be considered an accurate, factual telling of events; I used a massive chunk of artistic license. And that's why it's in third person, and it's a story. Okay?
Also, it's quite long for a blog post. And the title is not really imaginative. I just didn't want to call it untitled.
2. My name is not Rebecca. I didn't want to use Nossie in it, though. My real name is not Nossie, either. That's just the stupid nickname for Nessie that my sister uses and I decided to use that when I blogged (don't ask me why). Oh, and I'm not called Nessie either. There are many, many names that I'm not called, it would seem.
A walk in the evening
It was dark, and the low chatter of youths in the large field across the road unnerved Rebecca. So did the smell of smoke, and the low laughs.
I bet they're smoking pot, she thought. If she could have gone back, she would. She should not be there, she knew it. She should be at home, in the warm; not walking resolutely down the path in a thick coat. But go one she must, and go on she did, wishing that her brother was there. Then, she could have mothered him; in pretending all was right for his sake, she would have been given quiet confidence to go on.
Her father and sister were with her, so she wasn't actually alone. But dad—dad—you can't mother your own father, she thought. And her sister resisted all attempts to be mothered; so that was not an option, unless she wanted her sister to start talking loudly. And she wanted to do nothing that would draw attention to herself.
So she marched resolutely on, down the dark path beside the road that was taking her further away from home every minute. There were so obviously youths somewhere in that massive filed the other side. Yes, there was a tall hedge—but it was patchy in places. And there was a road, which cars occasionally zoomed down—but that's a scant barrier in the dark.
She reached the end of the road, and crossed, ensuring that her sister and father were following. Now, she had to walk up the path along another side of the same large field. And this time, the path was in between the road and the field; but the hedge was taller, thicker. This path, though, was even darker; and leaves rustled beneath her feet, while owls screeched occasionally.
She, along with the other two members of her family, was going to the cemetery to look at stars. As it was a fairly new, modern cemetery, there shouldn't be any ghosts. Only—perhaps—they might meet a youth. But youths didn't lurk in the cemetery, preferring the field. Maybe they were scared of ghosts.
Just before Rebecca and the rabble reached the cemetery, they met a youth on a bike. He had no lights, and Rebecca knew very well what her dad always said when he saw a cyclist with no lights on in the dark. And true to form, her father opened his mouth and said "An idiot on a bike." A risky thing to say, admittedly so.
The youth, however, appeared not to notice and cycled on. Rebecca wondered if that youth was just well behaved, or listening to an MP3 player or something. She knew that if it wasn't either of those, the youth needed to go somewhere or was deaf. She gave up; it wasn't really worth worrying about.
She entered the cemetery. There was no gate to open, no hinges to squeak. She was glad of this. They could stand on the grass there, just inside the gate, and find Polaris (that's the star at the North Pole. It's easy to find).
But her father and sister had other ideas. They were to walk all the way to the back, right to the end of the road down between the trees. And Rebecca had never been to the back of the cemetery in the dark before.
She remembered that when they had driven past the cemetery, the piece of field behind looked exactly the sort of place where youths would lurk. But she could hear nothing; that allayed her fears somewhat. She did notice a massive cardboard box in one of the bins, but she walked on by.
They stood in front of a different bin to locate the stars. In silence that was broken only by their voices, she found Polaris. Her father and sister also found this star; it was indeed still there, between the Big Dipper and Cassiopeia (two constellations).
After listening to her father saying that the moon was fairly low in the sky, it was time to peer at the one grave that held interest for them. They turned, and—oh the horror!—the box which had been in the bin further up was now in the bin behind them! However, Rebecca's father just laughed at her and her sister's worries about it; according to him, the chances of them being able to tell one box or one bin from another were very scarce indeed.
Rebecca hurried them to the grave, wanting to get out of the place as soon as possible. Her father and sister went along one row of graves, Rebecca went along the one next door. Although Rebecca went down the right row, someone had been recently buried where logic told Rebecca they shouldn't have been. Troublesome person, she thought, as she almost tripped over him. Kicking the mound on someone's grave felt wrong, as graves should be treated with respect. And she knew that the body would be further down, but that didn't make any difference to her view at all.
She continued, as if the troublesome person had never been there. Right at the end of the row, where it always was, was the grave. Shining a torch on it revealed it to be dirty; white marble and brown mud is not a good combination. However, in the dark and with no cleaning equipment, doing anything to rectify the situation would be tricky. So Rebecca and her family turned and headed for home.
They were almost back to civilization—just one more corner to go round, and they would be there—when Rebeeca saw some youths on the other side of the road. The youths were talking in low voices; Rebecca heard them call for their friends. This worried her, but using her tried and tested method of ignoring others so they don't notice her, she looked straight ahead and forced a smile. She thought that to smile would be best, as if the outside looked confident, the inside should hopefully follow suit. And anyway, animals tend to attack the weak—the more you smile, the more spring in your step. The more spring in your step, the less likely you are to look weak.
She was almost round the corner when the steady tramp tramp tramp of feet behind her; one person—no, two people by the sound of it. She jumped forwards, and whipped round to look behind. There, behind her, were her father and sister, following her home. The youths were still chatting to each other the other side of the road. She turned round, and continued to go round the corner.
That was it. Nothing could possibly happen now; they would get home safe. And they did.
1. There are no prizes for guessing what I was doing between eight and nine last night. However, what follows can in no way be considered an accurate, factual telling of events; I used a massive chunk of artistic license. And that's why it's in third person, and it's a story. Okay?
Also, it's quite long for a blog post. And the title is not really imaginative. I just didn't want to call it untitled.
2. My name is not Rebecca. I didn't want to use Nossie in it, though. My real name is not Nossie, either. That's just the stupid nickname for Nessie that my sister uses and I decided to use that when I blogged (don't ask me why). Oh, and I'm not called Nessie either. There are many, many names that I'm not called, it would seem.
A walk in the evening
It was dark, and the low chatter of youths in the large field across the road unnerved Rebecca. So did the smell of smoke, and the low laughs.
I bet they're smoking pot, she thought. If she could have gone back, she would. She should not be there, she knew it. She should be at home, in the warm; not walking resolutely down the path in a thick coat. But go one she must, and go on she did, wishing that her brother was there. Then, she could have mothered him; in pretending all was right for his sake, she would have been given quiet confidence to go on.
Her father and sister were with her, so she wasn't actually alone. But dad—dad—you can't mother your own father, she thought. And her sister resisted all attempts to be mothered; so that was not an option, unless she wanted her sister to start talking loudly. And she wanted to do nothing that would draw attention to herself.
So she marched resolutely on, down the dark path beside the road that was taking her further away from home every minute. There were so obviously youths somewhere in that massive filed the other side. Yes, there was a tall hedge—but it was patchy in places. And there was a road, which cars occasionally zoomed down—but that's a scant barrier in the dark.
She reached the end of the road, and crossed, ensuring that her sister and father were following. Now, she had to walk up the path along another side of the same large field. And this time, the path was in between the road and the field; but the hedge was taller, thicker. This path, though, was even darker; and leaves rustled beneath her feet, while owls screeched occasionally.
She, along with the other two members of her family, was going to the cemetery to look at stars. As it was a fairly new, modern cemetery, there shouldn't be any ghosts. Only—perhaps—they might meet a youth. But youths didn't lurk in the cemetery, preferring the field. Maybe they were scared of ghosts.
Just before Rebecca and the rabble reached the cemetery, they met a youth on a bike. He had no lights, and Rebecca knew very well what her dad always said when he saw a cyclist with no lights on in the dark. And true to form, her father opened his mouth and said "An idiot on a bike." A risky thing to say, admittedly so.
The youth, however, appeared not to notice and cycled on. Rebecca wondered if that youth was just well behaved, or listening to an MP3 player or something. She knew that if it wasn't either of those, the youth needed to go somewhere or was deaf. She gave up; it wasn't really worth worrying about.
She entered the cemetery. There was no gate to open, no hinges to squeak. She was glad of this. They could stand on the grass there, just inside the gate, and find Polaris (that's the star at the North Pole. It's easy to find).
But her father and sister had other ideas. They were to walk all the way to the back, right to the end of the road down between the trees. And Rebecca had never been to the back of the cemetery in the dark before.
She remembered that when they had driven past the cemetery, the piece of field behind looked exactly the sort of place where youths would lurk. But she could hear nothing; that allayed her fears somewhat. She did notice a massive cardboard box in one of the bins, but she walked on by.
They stood in front of a different bin to locate the stars. In silence that was broken only by their voices, she found Polaris. Her father and sister also found this star; it was indeed still there, between the Big Dipper and Cassiopeia (two constellations).
After listening to her father saying that the moon was fairly low in the sky, it was time to peer at the one grave that held interest for them. They turned, and—oh the horror!—the box which had been in the bin further up was now in the bin behind them! However, Rebecca's father just laughed at her and her sister's worries about it; according to him, the chances of them being able to tell one box or one bin from another were very scarce indeed.
Rebecca hurried them to the grave, wanting to get out of the place as soon as possible. Her father and sister went along one row of graves, Rebecca went along the one next door. Although Rebecca went down the right row, someone had been recently buried where logic told Rebecca they shouldn't have been. Troublesome person, she thought, as she almost tripped over him. Kicking the mound on someone's grave felt wrong, as graves should be treated with respect. And she knew that the body would be further down, but that didn't make any difference to her view at all.
She continued, as if the troublesome person had never been there. Right at the end of the row, where it always was, was the grave. Shining a torch on it revealed it to be dirty; white marble and brown mud is not a good combination. However, in the dark and with no cleaning equipment, doing anything to rectify the situation would be tricky. So Rebecca and her family turned and headed for home.
They were almost back to civilization—just one more corner to go round, and they would be there—when Rebeeca saw some youths on the other side of the road. The youths were talking in low voices; Rebecca heard them call for their friends. This worried her, but using her tried and tested method of ignoring others so they don't notice her, she looked straight ahead and forced a smile. She thought that to smile would be best, as if the outside looked confident, the inside should hopefully follow suit. And anyway, animals tend to attack the weak—the more you smile, the more spring in your step. The more spring in your step, the less likely you are to look weak.
She was almost round the corner when the steady tramp tramp tramp of feet behind her; one person—no, two people by the sound of it. She jumped forwards, and whipped round to look behind. There, behind her, were her father and sister, following her home. The youths were still chatting to each other the other side of the road. She turned round, and continued to go round the corner.
That was it. Nothing could possibly happen now; they would get home safe. And they did.
Friday, 19 October 2007
The big bully
Or rather, the incredibly small bully.
Some of you may know that I have four pet rats called Anita, Jerusha, Rosie, and Daisy. Anita and Jerusha are just over a year old, while Rosie and Daisy are a few months old.
Anita is bit of a bully. Oh yes. This morning, I saw her groom (grooming is a sign of dominance in rats) all the other rats and leave them all pretending to be dead in the corner of her cage. Then she went off elsewhere.
After she had gone, Rosie decided to get back into the red hammock. Anita was immediately back; she cuffed Rosie, and pushed her out back into the corner with the others. Rosie squeaked while she was being cuffed; I don't blame her. Anita occasionally grooms me and it's not exactly gentle.
Then, Anita went away again. Daisy moved to the hammock this time. And again, Anita was back. She cuffed Daisy, and Daisy squeaked. Eventually Daisy got cross, turned round, and pushed Anita out of the hammock. This was repeated about four times, and then Anita went away leaving Daisy in the hammock.
Rosie, having seen what happened and being an intelligent rat, climbed into the hammock and put herself behind Daisy. Then Jerusha climbed in behind Daisy too!
Anita came back, and began cuffing Daisy again. Eventually both Anita and Daisy were out of the hammock, but Jerusha and Rosie were in it.
It's strange that Anita should be like that. She is the least friendly of the lot where other rats are concerned, and they all respect her. However Rosie, who is the most friendly with other rats, is the least respected.
Anita is the most friendly and placid when it comes to humans, though. She's very very good with strangers, and always has been. I don't think she's ever bitten anyone; actually, I can't remember any of the four current rats biting anyone, though Rosie used to gently nip our fingers to see if they were good to eat.
As for Daisy, obviously she knows when to stand up to Anita; and it's a good thing one of them does, otherwise Anita will run wild.
And Jerusha? She's merely the spider eater...yes, she ate a spider a week or so ago. And left the eight legs...
Some of you may know that I have four pet rats called Anita, Jerusha, Rosie, and Daisy. Anita and Jerusha are just over a year old, while Rosie and Daisy are a few months old.
Anita is bit of a bully. Oh yes. This morning, I saw her groom (grooming is a sign of dominance in rats) all the other rats and leave them all pretending to be dead in the corner of her cage. Then she went off elsewhere.
After she had gone, Rosie decided to get back into the red hammock. Anita was immediately back; she cuffed Rosie, and pushed her out back into the corner with the others. Rosie squeaked while she was being cuffed; I don't blame her. Anita occasionally grooms me and it's not exactly gentle.
Then, Anita went away again. Daisy moved to the hammock this time. And again, Anita was back. She cuffed Daisy, and Daisy squeaked. Eventually Daisy got cross, turned round, and pushed Anita out of the hammock. This was repeated about four times, and then Anita went away leaving Daisy in the hammock.
Rosie, having seen what happened and being an intelligent rat, climbed into the hammock and put herself behind Daisy. Then Jerusha climbed in behind Daisy too!
Anita came back, and began cuffing Daisy again. Eventually both Anita and Daisy were out of the hammock, but Jerusha and Rosie were in it.
It's strange that Anita should be like that. She is the least friendly of the lot where other rats are concerned, and they all respect her. However Rosie, who is the most friendly with other rats, is the least respected.
Anita is the most friendly and placid when it comes to humans, though. She's very very good with strangers, and always has been. I don't think she's ever bitten anyone; actually, I can't remember any of the four current rats biting anyone, though Rosie used to gently nip our fingers to see if they were good to eat.
As for Daisy, obviously she knows when to stand up to Anita; and it's a good thing one of them does, otherwise Anita will run wild.
And Jerusha? She's merely the spider eater...yes, she ate a spider a week or so ago. And left the eight legs...
Thursday, 18 October 2007
In praise of washing up
Our dishwasher has finally decided to pack up after fourteen years of service. I don't think it's completely gone yet, though. I think that the dishwasher doctor should be able to sort it out. And no, this is not bad.
There is a good consequence to this state of affairs. We get to do more washing up! Woo!
For those of you who haven't yet discovered this wonderful fact, I now tell you that washing up and drying up is incredibly fun, relaxing, and just generally a nice way of spending one's time. If you don't agree with this, you'll have to go for the alternative, which is that I am now mad beyond all hope. And I know that the second isn't true.
I'll admit that maybe I'm the only person who enjoys washing up to the point of prancing round the kitchen humming tunelessly, but as it's an every day job that will be done more often now there can be surely no harm in taking pleasure in doing it?
It's also be a good opportunity to teach my brother how to help cheerfully and well. He needs more practice in this, often helping grumpily. And he doesn't get the 'well' part. His is the opinion that if he doesn't do it well, he'll never be asked to do it again. Sadly, this isn't the case. If he doesn't do it properly the first time, he should do it until he does it properly. However, as this isn't an ideal world, now we keep him out of the kitchen or drag him into it depending on mood.
Another good thing about doing all the washing up by hand is that we can now ensure that the spoons get done properly. The dishwasher was notoriously bad for doing spoons. And, being the mad person that I am, I like my spoons spotlessly clean (almost to the point of having an obsessive compulsive disorder, but it certainly isn't because I couldn't care less about whether other things were clean. It's just related to what I eat off.).
The only bad thing about this is that mum probably won't let me banish all my siblings from the kitchen so that I can do all the washing up and drying up by myself, which is one of the best ways to do it.
Anyway, the final word on washing up: it's good because it makes me happy. I'm not sure why this is, but it does. So there.
There is a good consequence to this state of affairs. We get to do more washing up! Woo!
For those of you who haven't yet discovered this wonderful fact, I now tell you that washing up and drying up is incredibly fun, relaxing, and just generally a nice way of spending one's time. If you don't agree with this, you'll have to go for the alternative, which is that I am now mad beyond all hope. And I know that the second isn't true.
I'll admit that maybe I'm the only person who enjoys washing up to the point of prancing round the kitchen humming tunelessly, but as it's an every day job that will be done more often now there can be surely no harm in taking pleasure in doing it?
It's also be a good opportunity to teach my brother how to help cheerfully and well. He needs more practice in this, often helping grumpily. And he doesn't get the 'well' part. His is the opinion that if he doesn't do it well, he'll never be asked to do it again. Sadly, this isn't the case. If he doesn't do it properly the first time, he should do it until he does it properly. However, as this isn't an ideal world, now we keep him out of the kitchen or drag him into it depending on mood.
Another good thing about doing all the washing up by hand is that we can now ensure that the spoons get done properly. The dishwasher was notoriously bad for doing spoons. And, being the mad person that I am, I like my spoons spotlessly clean (almost to the point of having an obsessive compulsive disorder, but it certainly isn't because I couldn't care less about whether other things were clean. It's just related to what I eat off.).
The only bad thing about this is that mum probably won't let me banish all my siblings from the kitchen so that I can do all the washing up and drying up by myself, which is one of the best ways to do it.
Anyway, the final word on washing up: it's good because it makes me happy. I'm not sure why this is, but it does. So there.
Wednesday, 17 October 2007
Very apt
On the front of the small notebook I use for Bible study (and I use the term "Bible study" incredibly loosely) it says "path to freedom". Next to the words, it has a picture of someone emerging from a maze.
No, it's not a notebook from a Christian bookshop. It's actually a promotional notebook for a certain brand of medicine for HIV infected adults. Before you worry, no. I do not have HIV. How the notebook ended up in my hands is quite simple; someone who sells this medicine gave us a bagful. Apparently they had a big box of them. I'm not sure if they were meant to give them away to friends, but that's what they did.
I was just thinking that it was very apt to use a notebook with "path to freedom" on the front for Bible study stuff. After all, the truth will make us free. And God's word is truth. I would find Scriptures to back up those statements, but can't be bothered. If anyone quibbles with me, I will find them. If anyone calls me lazy, or wants to see them, I will find them.
There is another very obvious way—if not several other ways—that those words could be considered apt, but you've all got brains and can therefore ponder for yourself. Maybe I'm just being mean now.
Anyway, thanks to those (that's Ant, Cat, and Nat, in case they don't know who they are) who commented on my last post. It was appreciated.
No, it's not a notebook from a Christian bookshop. It's actually a promotional notebook for a certain brand of medicine for HIV infected adults. Before you worry, no. I do not have HIV. How the notebook ended up in my hands is quite simple; someone who sells this medicine gave us a bagful. Apparently they had a big box of them. I'm not sure if they were meant to give them away to friends, but that's what they did.
I was just thinking that it was very apt to use a notebook with "path to freedom" on the front for Bible study stuff. After all, the truth will make us free. And God's word is truth. I would find Scriptures to back up those statements, but can't be bothered. If anyone quibbles with me, I will find them. If anyone calls me lazy, or wants to see them, I will find them.
There is another very obvious way—if not several other ways—that those words could be considered apt, but you've all got brains and can therefore ponder for yourself. Maybe I'm just being mean now.
Anyway, thanks to those (that's Ant, Cat, and Nat, in case they don't know who they are) who commented on my last post. It was appreciated.
Sunday, 14 October 2007
A nice short blog
Too much has happened recently, which means that you'll get a flat boring blog. Or maybe, the real reason is that I just don't know what I want to say. I just know that I want to say something, and push those posts about music down; music's the last thing I'm thinking about at present.
Anyway, on Friday mum finally miscarried. We knew it would happen, it was just a question of when. She chose to do it at the doctor's surgery when she took my little sister in to have her ears looked at. That was a good place to choose. However, when I went to collect my sister there was blood on the floor of the room mum was sitting in, which was a little unsettling.
They did send her home, which they shouldn't have done as she had to go back to the doctor's about forty five minutes later and leave in an ambulance. She stayed in hospital overnight; we visited her there twice before they finally allowed her to come home.
Saturday was pretty normal apart from visiting mum in hospital. We did have to miss a talk to do with church that we'd been planning to go to as soon as we heard about it, but that's life. Ultimately, sending dad to collect mum from hospital is better than going to a talk on Creationism.
Today has been another fairly normal day, apart from the fact that we had one set of grandparents down (my mum's parents), and that I never got to church today. But staying at home to chat with grandparents and then making sure mum rests is probably a reasonable reason for not going to church. Either that, or my priorities are all wrong. It does feel weird not to be at church, though.
There you are. A nice short blog. Of course, what a short blog really means is that I've finally stopped thinking, or at least lost the ability to order my thoughts enthusiastically and precisely. Worry not, however. This change is only temporary, most probably because I'm tired and still recovering from Friday and Saturday not going to plan.
Okay, so Dad's just got back from church. It's a good thing that I didn't go, because they had a prayer meeting before the service and Dad wasn't intending to go to that. That means that he was pulled into it ten minutes late. And I hate being late for things. Being dragged into things which I wasn't even intending to go to ten minutes late is just the way to make me seriously upset. Also, dad said that nobody really talked to him. And I couldn't have taken leaving after only taking to one person, not today. I can sometimes be a bit sensitive about talking to no one after church for some unknown reason.
Well, that's all for today. It's short, but never mind.
Anyway, on Friday mum finally miscarried. We knew it would happen, it was just a question of when. She chose to do it at the doctor's surgery when she took my little sister in to have her ears looked at. That was a good place to choose. However, when I went to collect my sister there was blood on the floor of the room mum was sitting in, which was a little unsettling.
They did send her home, which they shouldn't have done as she had to go back to the doctor's about forty five minutes later and leave in an ambulance. She stayed in hospital overnight; we visited her there twice before they finally allowed her to come home.
Saturday was pretty normal apart from visiting mum in hospital. We did have to miss a talk to do with church that we'd been planning to go to as soon as we heard about it, but that's life. Ultimately, sending dad to collect mum from hospital is better than going to a talk on Creationism.
Today has been another fairly normal day, apart from the fact that we had one set of grandparents down (my mum's parents), and that I never got to church today. But staying at home to chat with grandparents and then making sure mum rests is probably a reasonable reason for not going to church. Either that, or my priorities are all wrong. It does feel weird not to be at church, though.
There you are. A nice short blog. Of course, what a short blog really means is that I've finally stopped thinking, or at least lost the ability to order my thoughts enthusiastically and precisely. Worry not, however. This change is only temporary, most probably because I'm tired and still recovering from Friday and Saturday not going to plan.
Okay, so Dad's just got back from church. It's a good thing that I didn't go, because they had a prayer meeting before the service and Dad wasn't intending to go to that. That means that he was pulled into it ten minutes late. And I hate being late for things. Being dragged into things which I wasn't even intending to go to ten minutes late is just the way to make me seriously upset. Also, dad said that nobody really talked to him. And I couldn't have taken leaving after only taking to one person, not today. I can sometimes be a bit sensitive about talking to no one after church for some unknown reason.
Well, that's all for today. It's short, but never mind.
Thursday, 11 October 2007
An open music challenge and more
Yes, we're going to hear still more about music. If you don't like it, you are at perfect liberty to tell me to shut up, though I don't promise to do so. I notice that no one commented on my last music post. Don't people like them?!
Anyway, I'm going to throw down an open challenge to everyone. It's a two part challenge.
A. I would like you to show me that rock music is an acceptable thing for me to listen to. I want you to show me that it confirms to the rules set forth in Philippians 4:8, which I shall quote here: Finally, brethren, whatsoever things are true, whatsoever things are honest, whatsoever things are just, whatsoever things are pure, whatsoever things are lovely, whatsoever things are of good report; if there be any virtue, or if there be any praise, think on these things.
B. I want you to give me one good reason from the Bible for introducing this kind of music into the church, one reason why it needs to be there.
That is all. If you cannot do this, I want you to have the courage to stand up and say that you cannot do it.
The rest of this blog basically addresses the points Ant made on his blog the other day. It will probably contain repetition, if you've read everything I've written on the matter to date.
I agree, Psalm 150 does use many instruments. I think I should probably be silent on this point, because apart from the rather lame "that was Old Testament worship, it's New Testament times now" I haven't really got anything to say about it. And I will not use that lame excuse, since I don't think we should write off the Old Testament like that. I intend to use some illustrations from Old Testament temple worship later in this blog, and I don't want have one rule for those who agree with me and a different rule for those who disagree with me.
However, this I can and will say: as far as I have seen, the only kind of music style (if you could put it that way) endorsed in Scripture is that of melody. (Ephesians 5:19. Interestingly, this verse also says that we should do this in our hearts. I don't think that kind of phrase helps the cause of those who want loud music in the church.) There is no reason whatsoever as to why many instruments can't be put together to produce melody; is rock music and most of the music used in churches today melodic? I asked that in my last blog; I have repeated it because I think it is a very important point. Distance yourself from it, and look at it: is it truly melodic? And if it isn't melodic, what is it doing in the church when one of the few verses we have about music carefully uses the word 'melody'?
Hang on. That's a KJV Bible verse and other translations do render the word differently. While I do like to use the KJV personally, I'm not a KJV only person and therefore must recognize that it may just be a translation thing. However, I haven't seen anything which swaps melody for anything more precise than music. And that's worrying. Anyway, most versions do use 'spiritual songs' and what kind of music is more fit to worship God than a melodic kind of music, which is arguably the most beautiful sort of music? Yes, I know that's just my opinion. But it is also my opinion that writing a classical type music takes more skill than writing a rock or soft pop type of music. And surely we should worship God with our best?
I am aware that other verses merely speak of making a 'sound'. And then, I would suggest that as Christians we want to make a sound that will show anyone who walks by in the middle of our singing that we are people who are glorifying God. We don't want a sound that they will ignore, and write off as just more soft pop, or even as just more heavy rock. I know that they will be more reluctant to enter if we sing in a classical manner, but that doesn't matter. People shouldn't go to church for the music, they should go to church for the Gospel. (I sound a slight hypocrite here, after what I was saying about being fully prepared to leave a church if it changed its music. But in most cases, when churches change their music for worse the teaching follows.)
On music style being irrelevant to God, I don't think that's so. It sounds like a pretty ridiculous thing to say, but I firmly believe that it is not irrelevant to God. Music is more like a string of words than a chair. And what we say and read does matter. Whether a chair is red or green or blue or even yellow does not. Just like words, we listen to music. We can hum, we can sing. We can speak. Music isn't really all that different from words and phrases, then. And we all know that some words and phrases are bad and shouldn't be said. So why should there be any difference for music? If rock music and the like isn't bad, then no kind of music is bad. Yes, people may not like other kinds of music but most would stop short of branding it bad.
Anyway, one would assume the the kind of fire used to sacrifice things in Old Testament times would be irrelevant to God. I would. It's a natural kind of assumption to make. But in Leviticus 10:1-2, we find some men offered strange fire to God. And they were killed for doing this. We don't even know what strange fire is (or maybe I'm the only person who doesn't; maybe I haven't studied Leviticus in enough detail.). Strange fire is irrelevant to us today, as we don't make sacrifices. Or shouldn't, anyway. I've never met a Christian who does.
But as fire was important to God, surely music is important? Music does hold a place in our church services today, and I wouldn't suggest that church services are irrelevant to God.
Onwards. While we must make God's standards our standards, claiming that music is irrelevant to God somehow seems to suggest that God has no standards for music and therefore that everything goes. For a basic understanding of why I believe rock music and the like violates God's standards, see my previous blog, More on music.
I wouldn't ask other churches in other countries to adopt to man made things, which is why I wouldn't ask them to celebrate Christmas. However, the real question here is "Does God have standards for music?"
Yes, God does want people from every tribe in heaven. With all due respect, I think it's a bit futile to speculate on the kind of music we will have in heaven; we cannot even hope to know whether we will have a variety of styles, or just one style. All we know is that it will glorify God. But surely you should be able to find a better reason to have rock music in the church than that it encourages diversity?
Finally, I finish with dealing with 1 Samuel 16:7. As the verse says, the Lord looks on the heart and man looks on the outside. There is an inherent danger in over emphasizing the fact the the Lord looks on the heart, and that danger is that we will cease to prove all things as commanded by 1 Thessalonians 5:21. Instead, we will misinterpret Matthew 7:1 and state that we must not judge anybody. (Misinterpretation of Matthew 7:1 is one of my pet peeves.) How I view these verses is that we must only judge the actions, and not where the person's eternal destiny. I also take the view that we must not be hypocrites; complaining about some heinous sin when we do it ourselves isn't on. But judging actions and words, measuring them by the Word of God; that we must do, or we will be deceived. Don't take anything from me, and don't take anything from anyone else; measure it all against the Word of God.
And on that note, I will finish.
Anyway, I'm going to throw down an open challenge to everyone. It's a two part challenge.
A. I would like you to show me that rock music is an acceptable thing for me to listen to. I want you to show me that it confirms to the rules set forth in Philippians 4:8, which I shall quote here: Finally, brethren, whatsoever things are true, whatsoever things are honest, whatsoever things are just, whatsoever things are pure, whatsoever things are lovely, whatsoever things are of good report; if there be any virtue, or if there be any praise, think on these things.
B. I want you to give me one good reason from the Bible for introducing this kind of music into the church, one reason why it needs to be there.
That is all. If you cannot do this, I want you to have the courage to stand up and say that you cannot do it.
The rest of this blog basically addresses the points Ant made on his blog the other day. It will probably contain repetition, if you've read everything I've written on the matter to date.
I agree, Psalm 150 does use many instruments. I think I should probably be silent on this point, because apart from the rather lame "that was Old Testament worship, it's New Testament times now" I haven't really got anything to say about it. And I will not use that lame excuse, since I don't think we should write off the Old Testament like that. I intend to use some illustrations from Old Testament temple worship later in this blog, and I don't want have one rule for those who agree with me and a different rule for those who disagree with me.
However, this I can and will say: as far as I have seen, the only kind of music style (if you could put it that way) endorsed in Scripture is that of melody. (Ephesians 5:19. Interestingly, this verse also says that we should do this in our hearts. I don't think that kind of phrase helps the cause of those who want loud music in the church.) There is no reason whatsoever as to why many instruments can't be put together to produce melody; is rock music and most of the music used in churches today melodic? I asked that in my last blog; I have repeated it because I think it is a very important point. Distance yourself from it, and look at it: is it truly melodic? And if it isn't melodic, what is it doing in the church when one of the few verses we have about music carefully uses the word 'melody'?
Hang on. That's a KJV Bible verse and other translations do render the word differently. While I do like to use the KJV personally, I'm not a KJV only person and therefore must recognize that it may just be a translation thing. However, I haven't seen anything which swaps melody for anything more precise than music. And that's worrying. Anyway, most versions do use 'spiritual songs' and what kind of music is more fit to worship God than a melodic kind of music, which is arguably the most beautiful sort of music? Yes, I know that's just my opinion. But it is also my opinion that writing a classical type music takes more skill than writing a rock or soft pop type of music. And surely we should worship God with our best?
I am aware that other verses merely speak of making a 'sound'. And then, I would suggest that as Christians we want to make a sound that will show anyone who walks by in the middle of our singing that we are people who are glorifying God. We don't want a sound that they will ignore, and write off as just more soft pop, or even as just more heavy rock. I know that they will be more reluctant to enter if we sing in a classical manner, but that doesn't matter. People shouldn't go to church for the music, they should go to church for the Gospel. (I sound a slight hypocrite here, after what I was saying about being fully prepared to leave a church if it changed its music. But in most cases, when churches change their music for worse the teaching follows.)
On music style being irrelevant to God, I don't think that's so. It sounds like a pretty ridiculous thing to say, but I firmly believe that it is not irrelevant to God. Music is more like a string of words than a chair. And what we say and read does matter. Whether a chair is red or green or blue or even yellow does not. Just like words, we listen to music. We can hum, we can sing. We can speak. Music isn't really all that different from words and phrases, then. And we all know that some words and phrases are bad and shouldn't be said. So why should there be any difference for music? If rock music and the like isn't bad, then no kind of music is bad. Yes, people may not like other kinds of music but most would stop short of branding it bad.
Anyway, one would assume the the kind of fire used to sacrifice things in Old Testament times would be irrelevant to God. I would. It's a natural kind of assumption to make. But in Leviticus 10:1-2, we find some men offered strange fire to God. And they were killed for doing this. We don't even know what strange fire is (or maybe I'm the only person who doesn't; maybe I haven't studied Leviticus in enough detail.). Strange fire is irrelevant to us today, as we don't make sacrifices. Or shouldn't, anyway. I've never met a Christian who does.
But as fire was important to God, surely music is important? Music does hold a place in our church services today, and I wouldn't suggest that church services are irrelevant to God.
Onwards. While we must make God's standards our standards, claiming that music is irrelevant to God somehow seems to suggest that God has no standards for music and therefore that everything goes. For a basic understanding of why I believe rock music and the like violates God's standards, see my previous blog, More on music.
I wouldn't ask other churches in other countries to adopt to man made things, which is why I wouldn't ask them to celebrate Christmas. However, the real question here is "Does God have standards for music?"
Yes, God does want people from every tribe in heaven. With all due respect, I think it's a bit futile to speculate on the kind of music we will have in heaven; we cannot even hope to know whether we will have a variety of styles, or just one style. All we know is that it will glorify God. But surely you should be able to find a better reason to have rock music in the church than that it encourages diversity?
Finally, I finish with dealing with 1 Samuel 16:7. As the verse says, the Lord looks on the heart and man looks on the outside. There is an inherent danger in over emphasizing the fact the the Lord looks on the heart, and that danger is that we will cease to prove all things as commanded by 1 Thessalonians 5:21. Instead, we will misinterpret Matthew 7:1 and state that we must not judge anybody. (Misinterpretation of Matthew 7:1 is one of my pet peeves.) How I view these verses is that we must only judge the actions, and not where the person's eternal destiny. I also take the view that we must not be hypocrites; complaining about some heinous sin when we do it ourselves isn't on. But judging actions and words, measuring them by the Word of God; that we must do, or we will be deceived. Don't take anything from me, and don't take anything from anyone else; measure it all against the Word of God.
And on that note, I will finish.
Wednesday, 10 October 2007
More on music
Okay. So my last blog post sparked some kind of debate (eh? how did it do that?), even though I did tell people to ignore me. However, I've always found music to be like that and it's no good ignoring it now.
Muttley threw down a challenge: where in the Bible does it state music is not to be used for enjoyment? I think he misinterpreted me somewhere along the line, but no matter.
The answer is that no where in the Bible does it state that's it's wrong to get enjoyment out of music. I do not have a problem with people getting enjoyment out of music, and even if I did, I certainly wouldn't write about it on my blog without some clarification that I, too, am as guilty as everyone else. I get enjoyment out of music. Most people I know get enjoyment out of music. It is natural to get enjoyment out of music, and if it doesn't give enjoyment, why listen to it?
However, as with all things, we must ensure that we are not getting enjoyment out of things which go contrary to Scripture. Some people get enjoyment from adultery. That's prohibited in Scripture. Others get enjoyment out of hallucination inducing drugs. I doubt anyone would claim that Scripture condones this. Some things are clearly wrong, and therefore we should not do them, regardless of whether we enjoy them or not.
And here comes the crunch: I would argue that rock music and the like, Christian or otherwise, just isn't the sort of thing Christians should listen to. I would argue that it will have a negative effect on them. Note that I'm not claiming that they are any less Christian if they do listen to it.
You may say "how can we know whether rock music is wrong or not? There is no Bible verse forbidding it." I would suggest that we should go to the Bible, which Hebrews 4:12 informs us discerns the thoughts and intents of the heart. Also, in Acts 17:10 we read that the Bereans searched the Scriptures to see whether what Paul told them was so. They are commended for this attitude.
First, some history for you. Rock music became popular in the 1960s, which is well known as a time when people openly rebelled against the traditional Biblical values long held and respected until then. Never before, to my knowledge, was there such a time of open rebellion. If we read 1 Samuel 15:23, we learn that rebellion is as the sin of witchcraft.
But before the 60s, there were the early rock musicians. They certainly didn't hold Biblical values in high regard. Do you know that the term "rock and roll" is actually supposed to be a veiled reference to sex (which is a word I never ever thought I'd use on my blog)? So if people saw fit to apply that term to it, it must gratify their nasty lusts in some way. And according to 1 John 2:16, all that is in the world—including the lust of the flesh—is not of God, but of the world.
And if it is of the world, then we, as Christians, are required to love it not (hate it) in the very verse before. And in Romans 12:2, we are required to be not conformed to the world. So how can we justify bringing it into our homes, let alone the church?
Then there's 1 Thessalonians 5:22, where we learn that we should abstain from all appearance of evil. So not only are we to abstain from evil, but we are also to abstain from anything which even looks evil. The basic underlying principle here is that if something looks evil, it most probably is evil.
And when you look at most rock stars, they certainly don't look like righteous people. They don't live righteous lives. They do not make good examples for us. We are told not to keep company with the unrighteous; the only good reason for us having anything to do with such unrighteous people is to spread the Gospel among them. Psalm 1:1 states that the man who does not walk in the counsel of the ungodly is blessed, and Ephesians 5:11 tells us to have no fellowship with the works of darkness.
We've already seen that their beliefs and morals do rub off onto their music, and to discover that we only had to look at the name. What else lurks below the surface? Matthew 7:16-18 informs us that we shall know things by their fruits. If they are bad, they will bring forth bad fruits; if they are good, they will bring forth good fruits. Is it unreasonable to assume that the rock star's lifestyle is connected to their music when one with a clean lifestyle is a rare find indeed? And if we assume that the music is connected to the lifestyle, then the music must be bad.
Also, rock music and the like is addictive. Nobody has disputed this, and it's important. If we are addicted to something, it is not unreasonable to say that we are in bondage to it. In Galatians 4:1-5, we learn that we were in bondage to the things of this world before we became saved. In Galatians 5:1, we are told to stand in liberty and not be in bondage to sin again. So if we listen and are addicted to rock music, we are in bondage to the things of this world. Things from which we were meant to have been set free when we became Christians.
Talking of being Christians, I think it is very significant that our unsaved friends are very happy to stay friends with us when we play them rock music. If, however, we play them good hymns, absolutely full of Biblical truth, they will be uncomfortable. They will not like it. I have to say that they will probably become much less friendly if we do this to them. And that's how it should be. But if our unsaved friends are happy with rock music, it leaves serious doubt about whether rock music is Christian. For example, the Harry Potter books are not Christian. Discuss them with your unsaved friends, and they're really happy. Discuss the Bible with your unsaved friends, and I think it'll normally have a very different effect.
To deal with the question of music in the church, we do not need a big band. No where in the New Testament is there a passage or even a single verse which can be used to justify a band. We are told to sing and make melody in our hearts to the Lord in Ephesians 5:19, yes. But isn't it interesting that the word used is melody. Quite frankly, modern music is not—in my opinion, anyway—melodic. Anyway, I think that the music should be secondary to the singing. A simple piano or even, if you so wish, organ to keep everyone at the same speed and ensure that everyone sings the same tune is all that's necessary.
As there is nothing to suggest that we need a band in the church, it is dangerous to bring them in. In Leviticus 10:1-2, some priests offered strange fire to the Lord. They were killed. Interestingly, it doesn't say that they offered forbidden fire. Just strange fire. They paid the price for assuming that they could disregard the way in which God said He was to be worshiped.
I think that's enough for today. I don't think that's all that could be said about the matter, and I've probably missed some blindingly obvious things which I could have said.
Muttley threw down a challenge: where in the Bible does it state music is not to be used for enjoyment? I think he misinterpreted me somewhere along the line, but no matter.
The answer is that no where in the Bible does it state that's it's wrong to get enjoyment out of music. I do not have a problem with people getting enjoyment out of music, and even if I did, I certainly wouldn't write about it on my blog without some clarification that I, too, am as guilty as everyone else. I get enjoyment out of music. Most people I know get enjoyment out of music. It is natural to get enjoyment out of music, and if it doesn't give enjoyment, why listen to it?
However, as with all things, we must ensure that we are not getting enjoyment out of things which go contrary to Scripture. Some people get enjoyment from adultery. That's prohibited in Scripture. Others get enjoyment out of hallucination inducing drugs. I doubt anyone would claim that Scripture condones this. Some things are clearly wrong, and therefore we should not do them, regardless of whether we enjoy them or not.
And here comes the crunch: I would argue that rock music and the like, Christian or otherwise, just isn't the sort of thing Christians should listen to. I would argue that it will have a negative effect on them. Note that I'm not claiming that they are any less Christian if they do listen to it.
You may say "how can we know whether rock music is wrong or not? There is no Bible verse forbidding it." I would suggest that we should go to the Bible, which Hebrews 4:12 informs us discerns the thoughts and intents of the heart. Also, in Acts 17:10 we read that the Bereans searched the Scriptures to see whether what Paul told them was so. They are commended for this attitude.
First, some history for you. Rock music became popular in the 1960s, which is well known as a time when people openly rebelled against the traditional Biblical values long held and respected until then. Never before, to my knowledge, was there such a time of open rebellion. If we read 1 Samuel 15:23, we learn that rebellion is as the sin of witchcraft.
But before the 60s, there were the early rock musicians. They certainly didn't hold Biblical values in high regard. Do you know that the term "rock and roll" is actually supposed to be a veiled reference to sex (which is a word I never ever thought I'd use on my blog)? So if people saw fit to apply that term to it, it must gratify their nasty lusts in some way. And according to 1 John 2:16, all that is in the world—including the lust of the flesh—is not of God, but of the world.
And if it is of the world, then we, as Christians, are required to love it not (hate it) in the very verse before. And in Romans 12:2, we are required to be not conformed to the world. So how can we justify bringing it into our homes, let alone the church?
Then there's 1 Thessalonians 5:22, where we learn that we should abstain from all appearance of evil. So not only are we to abstain from evil, but we are also to abstain from anything which even looks evil. The basic underlying principle here is that if something looks evil, it most probably is evil.
And when you look at most rock stars, they certainly don't look like righteous people. They don't live righteous lives. They do not make good examples for us. We are told not to keep company with the unrighteous; the only good reason for us having anything to do with such unrighteous people is to spread the Gospel among them. Psalm 1:1 states that the man who does not walk in the counsel of the ungodly is blessed, and Ephesians 5:11 tells us to have no fellowship with the works of darkness.
We've already seen that their beliefs and morals do rub off onto their music, and to discover that we only had to look at the name. What else lurks below the surface? Matthew 7:16-18 informs us that we shall know things by their fruits. If they are bad, they will bring forth bad fruits; if they are good, they will bring forth good fruits. Is it unreasonable to assume that the rock star's lifestyle is connected to their music when one with a clean lifestyle is a rare find indeed? And if we assume that the music is connected to the lifestyle, then the music must be bad.
Also, rock music and the like is addictive. Nobody has disputed this, and it's important. If we are addicted to something, it is not unreasonable to say that we are in bondage to it. In Galatians 4:1-5, we learn that we were in bondage to the things of this world before we became saved. In Galatians 5:1, we are told to stand in liberty and not be in bondage to sin again. So if we listen and are addicted to rock music, we are in bondage to the things of this world. Things from which we were meant to have been set free when we became Christians.
Talking of being Christians, I think it is very significant that our unsaved friends are very happy to stay friends with us when we play them rock music. If, however, we play them good hymns, absolutely full of Biblical truth, they will be uncomfortable. They will not like it. I have to say that they will probably become much less friendly if we do this to them. And that's how it should be. But if our unsaved friends are happy with rock music, it leaves serious doubt about whether rock music is Christian. For example, the Harry Potter books are not Christian. Discuss them with your unsaved friends, and they're really happy. Discuss the Bible with your unsaved friends, and I think it'll normally have a very different effect.
To deal with the question of music in the church, we do not need a big band. No where in the New Testament is there a passage or even a single verse which can be used to justify a band. We are told to sing and make melody in our hearts to the Lord in Ephesians 5:19, yes. But isn't it interesting that the word used is melody. Quite frankly, modern music is not—in my opinion, anyway—melodic. Anyway, I think that the music should be secondary to the singing. A simple piano or even, if you so wish, organ to keep everyone at the same speed and ensure that everyone sings the same tune is all that's necessary.
As there is nothing to suggest that we need a band in the church, it is dangerous to bring them in. In Leviticus 10:1-2, some priests offered strange fire to the Lord. They were killed. Interestingly, it doesn't say that they offered forbidden fire. Just strange fire. They paid the price for assuming that they could disregard the way in which God said He was to be worshiped.
I think that's enough for today. I don't think that's all that could be said about the matter, and I've probably missed some blindingly obvious things which I could have said.
Monday, 8 October 2007
Music and other stuff
The man and his wife smiled with delight.
We had just informed them that yes, dad had made us walk out of churches in the past. Or rather, not made us. That's the wrong word. We went of our own accord. Dad walked out first, with mum, and told us to come. Being left behind anywhere has always been one of my worries, so staying behind was not an option.
Walking out of a church is strangely liberating. It's a different feeling from disagreeing with everything they're saying and doing, yet sitting there. That makes you stressed, and anxious. Walking out, however, makes you firm and decided. It's an 'I'm not putting up with that rubbish' kind of thing. And it has to be a decisive act; to walk out, you need to know that you disagree so much that you can't stay there any longer. Most of the times when we've walked out have been when the music was rubbish.
And that was how the conversation got onto walking out in the first place. They were talking of music. Apparently, their church began by allowing a little bit of Christian rubbish in the morning service. And then the music went downhill until it became 90% Christian rubbish and 10% secular rubbish.
I think that must be how the music at the church we left twelve years ago is today. Mostly Christian rubbish, but a little secular rubbish. And the teaching must have gone with it. I was speaking to someone who still goes there now, and she was saying that the Bible says do not judge. She seemed to be using it in the way that people do when they're trying to tell you the rubbish that we don't and can't know what's right, and we mustn't say anything against anything because that's judgemental and we're not to do that. I've heard that's quite often the view of those who have wonky theology, because they don't want people examining their behaviour in the light of the Bible.
So the teaching goes downhill with the music. I'm sure that church can't have endorsed the wishy washy don't judge view when we were there. I doubt my parents would have stood for that; they've always taught us right from wrong, and they've always had strong views on things. They haven't been afraid to stand up and say 'that's wrong', either.
In a way I'm glad that they've always been like that. It has made it easier for me to know what they believe and know why they believe it. It's also been interesting, if not particularly fun, to see that they are not scared to say 'this is what I think' and back up their position with the Bible. They passed me their values and beliefs, and I'm not sure how they managed that in today's world. I know they would not have managed that if they had not been so forthright; because if they had been quiet people who never said what they thought to people's faces, I would not have thought that they cared for their beliefs. (Yes, they do try to be tactful. Worry not.)
Well, this couple last night reminded me so much of my parents. They were strikingly similar. In fact, mum and dad seemingly get on very well with them. And I'm not surprised. This man and woman sounded so like mum and dad. Let's see: what did they say? They complained about music, they complained about theological errors, they complained about bungalows near them being knocked down and turned into flats, and they complained about how busy the road near them was. And yet you didn't get the impression that they were worried about it all. They weren't pessimistic. Or at least the man wasn't, although his wife could have been a different kettle of fish.
But anyway. It was really nice to talk to some people who have really similar values. I know that the majority of people at our church like rubbish music, and the pastor doesn't seem to take a stand against it. The one person who I know hates it doesn't seem to make much noise about it, and I know that his family listen to it when he's not around. Actually, mum and dad don't make much noise about it; but why should they while the music at the church is reasonable?
The problem is that if the pastor doesn't take a stand against it, he is as good as for it. If you do not swim against the current, you go with the flow. Sure, you may not make a conscious choice, but that doesn't matter.
And then, the problem is that if it's in people's houses it will drift to the church. Somewhere in Deuteronomy there's a verse which states that you are not to bring a cursed thing into your house, lest you become cursed like it. And that does happen. It really does. The music in the church will eventually change to reflect the music in people's houses.
So it's really just a ticking time bomb. Eventually, it will probably go off. And then, we will leave that church. If the music changes, that will be the inevitable result. It always has been before.
And before you ask, yes. The music matters that much. It is an indication of where the church is going, and always has been. The Gospel does not need any kind of music to sell it to people, let alone satanic rubbish.
Now agree with me: if Satan controls a church's music, it's not going to be long before he controls the rest of the church, is it?
But I have digressed from my topic. I don't know what it was, but I have digressed. And I've digressed onto a rather inflammatory topic. Ignore me. The problem is that I have a habit of mentally going over things repeatedly, and so I've exhausted everything else I could have spoken about already. I just use my blog as another place to go over things; blogging is a good time to do some thinking or reflecting. And I find blogging very relaxing. I think it's better than a diary, though. I can never keep them for more than about a month at a time.
Now behave yourselves, monsters. (If Natalie can call you cherubs, I can call you monsters. Is that correct?)
We had just informed them that yes, dad had made us walk out of churches in the past. Or rather, not made us. That's the wrong word. We went of our own accord. Dad walked out first, with mum, and told us to come. Being left behind anywhere has always been one of my worries, so staying behind was not an option.
Walking out of a church is strangely liberating. It's a different feeling from disagreeing with everything they're saying and doing, yet sitting there. That makes you stressed, and anxious. Walking out, however, makes you firm and decided. It's an 'I'm not putting up with that rubbish' kind of thing. And it has to be a decisive act; to walk out, you need to know that you disagree so much that you can't stay there any longer. Most of the times when we've walked out have been when the music was rubbish.
And that was how the conversation got onto walking out in the first place. They were talking of music. Apparently, their church began by allowing a little bit of Christian rubbish in the morning service. And then the music went downhill until it became 90% Christian rubbish and 10% secular rubbish.
I think that must be how the music at the church we left twelve years ago is today. Mostly Christian rubbish, but a little secular rubbish. And the teaching must have gone with it. I was speaking to someone who still goes there now, and she was saying that the Bible says do not judge. She seemed to be using it in the way that people do when they're trying to tell you the rubbish that we don't and can't know what's right, and we mustn't say anything against anything because that's judgemental and we're not to do that. I've heard that's quite often the view of those who have wonky theology, because they don't want people examining their behaviour in the light of the Bible.
So the teaching goes downhill with the music. I'm sure that church can't have endorsed the wishy washy don't judge view when we were there. I doubt my parents would have stood for that; they've always taught us right from wrong, and they've always had strong views on things. They haven't been afraid to stand up and say 'that's wrong', either.
In a way I'm glad that they've always been like that. It has made it easier for me to know what they believe and know why they believe it. It's also been interesting, if not particularly fun, to see that they are not scared to say 'this is what I think' and back up their position with the Bible. They passed me their values and beliefs, and I'm not sure how they managed that in today's world. I know they would not have managed that if they had not been so forthright; because if they had been quiet people who never said what they thought to people's faces, I would not have thought that they cared for their beliefs. (Yes, they do try to be tactful. Worry not.)
Well, this couple last night reminded me so much of my parents. They were strikingly similar. In fact, mum and dad seemingly get on very well with them. And I'm not surprised. This man and woman sounded so like mum and dad. Let's see: what did they say? They complained about music, they complained about theological errors, they complained about bungalows near them being knocked down and turned into flats, and they complained about how busy the road near them was. And yet you didn't get the impression that they were worried about it all. They weren't pessimistic. Or at least the man wasn't, although his wife could have been a different kettle of fish.
But anyway. It was really nice to talk to some people who have really similar values. I know that the majority of people at our church like rubbish music, and the pastor doesn't seem to take a stand against it. The one person who I know hates it doesn't seem to make much noise about it, and I know that his family listen to it when he's not around. Actually, mum and dad don't make much noise about it; but why should they while the music at the church is reasonable?
The problem is that if the pastor doesn't take a stand against it, he is as good as for it. If you do not swim against the current, you go with the flow. Sure, you may not make a conscious choice, but that doesn't matter.
And then, the problem is that if it's in people's houses it will drift to the church. Somewhere in Deuteronomy there's a verse which states that you are not to bring a cursed thing into your house, lest you become cursed like it. And that does happen. It really does. The music in the church will eventually change to reflect the music in people's houses.
So it's really just a ticking time bomb. Eventually, it will probably go off. And then, we will leave that church. If the music changes, that will be the inevitable result. It always has been before.
And before you ask, yes. The music matters that much. It is an indication of where the church is going, and always has been. The Gospel does not need any kind of music to sell it to people, let alone satanic rubbish.
Now agree with me: if Satan controls a church's music, it's not going to be long before he controls the rest of the church, is it?
But I have digressed from my topic. I don't know what it was, but I have digressed. And I've digressed onto a rather inflammatory topic. Ignore me. The problem is that I have a habit of mentally going over things repeatedly, and so I've exhausted everything else I could have spoken about already. I just use my blog as another place to go over things; blogging is a good time to do some thinking or reflecting. And I find blogging very relaxing. I think it's better than a diary, though. I can never keep them for more than about a month at a time.
Now behave yourselves, monsters. (If Natalie can call you cherubs, I can call you monsters. Is that correct?)
Friday, 5 October 2007
On creationism
I went to that church thing yesterday, as I decided that it was a more useful thing to do than sit around at home.
It was meant to be a talk introducing those who aren't Christians to Christianity; the idea is that you invite along your friends...if you have any. It sounded more like one of their creation meetings; the impression that I gained from it was that only non Christians accept the theory of evolution, and that Christians prefer creationism.
In fact, I rather frequently get that impression. The interesting thing is that it seems to be the creationists who say this. The idea is that since evolution is necessary to atheism (well, you can't have creationism/intelligent design with no one to create or design, so it is the atheist's only option), no Christian can accept it.
I'm not sure if this is a good impression to give people, particularly non Christians. I would say that's not what you want to be doing, as most scientists seem to completely accept evolution. Certainly most of what people hear and read does accept evolution; the impression is given that accepting evolution is similar to accepting that the sun is the center of the solar system. And that may very well be so; I haven't extensively studied either side. I am prepared to suggest that if many intelligent people accept evolution, this is probably because evolution is a viable theory. I also think that most of the things creationists complain about in evolution can be bypassed by suggesting that there was a higher being in control.
If they don't give the impression that those who accept evolution are not Christians, they give the impression that they're the sort of Christians who appoint homosexual clergy, and other such things...basically those who clearly don't understand what it means to be not conformed to the world—those who don't understand that the majority of people are sinners, and that as Christians we are not supposed to walk in the way of the ungodly.
Yet why do they put so much importance on whether you accept or don't accept a scientific theory? I don't understand. The Bible is not a scientific textbook. Yes, we can expect it to be accurate where it does state scientific principles; but expecting to be able to take the Bible and then fit science round it just isn't how scientists work. They're supposed to look at the evidence and then make theories which explain the evidence, not look at some religious text and then make theories which explain the evidence in a way which puts this text into the best possible light.
Yes, I too have strong views on things. But I don't think I go as far as stating that if you are a Christian, you have to think this way. And that's just as well, really. Yes, there are things which you have to believe and accept to be a Christian. But I don't think creationism is one of them. As far as I'm concerned, you can believe in God while accepting the theory of evolution.
I would say that creationism is quite often over hyped by those who agree with it. Fascinatingly, creationists put an awful lot of importance on the fact that it says days. Their opinion is that these have to be twenty four hour days, or else the Bible is wrong. They do have good arguments for this; it is indeed rare for the word 'day' to mean anything other than a twenty four hour day in the Bible. But they seem to conveniently overlook verses like 2 Peter 3:8, where we learn that a day with the Lord is as a thousand years and a thousand years are as one day.
I don't really think that it's all that important whether it is creationism or evolution. I would suggest that there are other things which are better for Christians to worry about...
For example, what they're going to have for tea. Shush! That was more a joke than a serious remark. But still. I wouldn't advise anyone to copy my example. Neither would I advise anyone to starve.
It was meant to be a talk introducing those who aren't Christians to Christianity; the idea is that you invite along your friends...if you have any. It sounded more like one of their creation meetings; the impression that I gained from it was that only non Christians accept the theory of evolution, and that Christians prefer creationism.
In fact, I rather frequently get that impression. The interesting thing is that it seems to be the creationists who say this. The idea is that since evolution is necessary to atheism (well, you can't have creationism/intelligent design with no one to create or design, so it is the atheist's only option), no Christian can accept it.
I'm not sure if this is a good impression to give people, particularly non Christians. I would say that's not what you want to be doing, as most scientists seem to completely accept evolution. Certainly most of what people hear and read does accept evolution; the impression is given that accepting evolution is similar to accepting that the sun is the center of the solar system. And that may very well be so; I haven't extensively studied either side. I am prepared to suggest that if many intelligent people accept evolution, this is probably because evolution is a viable theory. I also think that most of the things creationists complain about in evolution can be bypassed by suggesting that there was a higher being in control.
If they don't give the impression that those who accept evolution are not Christians, they give the impression that they're the sort of Christians who appoint homosexual clergy, and other such things...basically those who clearly don't understand what it means to be not conformed to the world—those who don't understand that the majority of people are sinners, and that as Christians we are not supposed to walk in the way of the ungodly.
Yet why do they put so much importance on whether you accept or don't accept a scientific theory? I don't understand. The Bible is not a scientific textbook. Yes, we can expect it to be accurate where it does state scientific principles; but expecting to be able to take the Bible and then fit science round it just isn't how scientists work. They're supposed to look at the evidence and then make theories which explain the evidence, not look at some religious text and then make theories which explain the evidence in a way which puts this text into the best possible light.
Yes, I too have strong views on things. But I don't think I go as far as stating that if you are a Christian, you have to think this way. And that's just as well, really. Yes, there are things which you have to believe and accept to be a Christian. But I don't think creationism is one of them. As far as I'm concerned, you can believe in God while accepting the theory of evolution.
I would say that creationism is quite often over hyped by those who agree with it. Fascinatingly, creationists put an awful lot of importance on the fact that it says days. Their opinion is that these have to be twenty four hour days, or else the Bible is wrong. They do have good arguments for this; it is indeed rare for the word 'day' to mean anything other than a twenty four hour day in the Bible. But they seem to conveniently overlook verses like 2 Peter 3:8, where we learn that a day with the Lord is as a thousand years and a thousand years are as one day.
I don't really think that it's all that important whether it is creationism or evolution. I would suggest that there are other things which are better for Christians to worry about...
For example, what they're going to have for tea. Shush! That was more a joke than a serious remark. But still. I wouldn't advise anyone to copy my example. Neither would I advise anyone to starve.
Wednesday, 3 October 2007
Oops
My mother went for what is known as a dating scan today. I'll briefly explain what that is for those of you who don't know: it's when a pregnant woman goes in for an early scan to determine when her baby is due. And they didn't find a heartbeat. Not only this, but the baby was very still. To put it bluntly, it's dead. They're going to allow her some grace to expel it naturally—quite horrible and distressing, but there we are.
This is not altogether a surprise; I thought that she'd probably miscarry when she started complaining of a pain some time ago. No, I didn't put these fears into words at the time, and no, I don't always like being right. And last night mum was worried because she was feeling too well and she couldn't feel anything moving.
I think that miscarriage and the like is essentially a private grief. The person who feels the most is the mother, and most other people just don't understand. And this is because they can't. It just doesn't effect them as greatly. I'd suggest that this is normal, because the other people never got to know the child. The mother doesn't even get to know it in that sense of the word.
Yes, people other than the mother will feel sad. But for them it will be more a drop in the ocean; for the mother, it will be something worse. I think I'm rambling, and I'm not sure if my point is becoming clear. It is different from most things you can be sad about, though, because it was not self inflicted. There's very few things that you can actually truthfully say were not self inflicted to some extent. But this sort of thing is one of them.
Anyway, I can only watch and reassure her that she didn't do anything wrong, that no, it was not something she ate. Oh, and it'll probably fall to my lot to keep the house running and the rabble behaving reasonably when she does go into hospital. For a short time in hospital is inevitable, it's just a question of when. She probably won't be there for very long, though. It'll most likely be less than 24 hours. However, with a two year old sister, that'll still be too long.
But still. The reality is that no, I will not have another little brother or sister. And that idea will take a little bit of adjusting to; we first knew she was pregnant at the end of August.
The only good thing about the whole business is that I've seen it all before. I know what will probably happen, and what to do when it does happen. It's strange to have some official advance warning, though. We haven't had that before.
I was meant to be going to a church meeting tomorrow night with some of the rabble. I think I'll have to stay behind with mum and the two year old now. This is more for my peace of mind than anyone else's. If I went, I doubt that I could really enjoy it; I'd be too worried about what might happen at home while I was gone. Yes, I'm a bit of a worrier.
I may delete this post tomorrow. You have been warned.
This is not altogether a surprise; I thought that she'd probably miscarry when she started complaining of a pain some time ago. No, I didn't put these fears into words at the time, and no, I don't always like being right. And last night mum was worried because she was feeling too well and she couldn't feel anything moving.
I think that miscarriage and the like is essentially a private grief. The person who feels the most is the mother, and most other people just don't understand. And this is because they can't. It just doesn't effect them as greatly. I'd suggest that this is normal, because the other people never got to know the child. The mother doesn't even get to know it in that sense of the word.
Yes, people other than the mother will feel sad. But for them it will be more a drop in the ocean; for the mother, it will be something worse. I think I'm rambling, and I'm not sure if my point is becoming clear. It is different from most things you can be sad about, though, because it was not self inflicted. There's very few things that you can actually truthfully say were not self inflicted to some extent. But this sort of thing is one of them.
Anyway, I can only watch and reassure her that she didn't do anything wrong, that no, it was not something she ate. Oh, and it'll probably fall to my lot to keep the house running and the rabble behaving reasonably when she does go into hospital. For a short time in hospital is inevitable, it's just a question of when. She probably won't be there for very long, though. It'll most likely be less than 24 hours. However, with a two year old sister, that'll still be too long.
But still. The reality is that no, I will not have another little brother or sister. And that idea will take a little bit of adjusting to; we first knew she was pregnant at the end of August.
The only good thing about the whole business is that I've seen it all before. I know what will probably happen, and what to do when it does happen. It's strange to have some official advance warning, though. We haven't had that before.
I was meant to be going to a church meeting tomorrow night with some of the rabble. I think I'll have to stay behind with mum and the two year old now. This is more for my peace of mind than anyone else's. If I went, I doubt that I could really enjoy it; I'd be too worried about what might happen at home while I was gone. Yes, I'm a bit of a worrier.
I may delete this post tomorrow. You have been warned.
Tuesday, 2 October 2007
Computer complaints
I'm suspicious of this computer. I strongly suspect it of possessing a sense of humor. And a wonky one, at that.
This computer is pretty reliable. So reliable, in fact, that I rarely bother to save anything until I've finished it. That's not something I recommend doing, but why save something every two minutes when nothing ever happens?
But today, just as I'd almost finished typing up some stuff (and spent a decent chunk of time on it, too) the monitor started to go greyer. The greyness crept down the screen. The greyness covered the screen. And in the middle were some instructions.
That's right. It said I had to restart the computer. To make sure that I understood, it had the same message in about five different languages.
So, did it realize that I needed more typing practice? Or was it just playing some kind of practical joke, for its own amusement?
There's only one thing it does that's more annoying. Very occasionally, it just chucks you out if you do something it doesn't like.
So, are computers horrible to anyone else? I'd hate to think it was only me that they picked on. I tell you, they pick on me to a horrible degree! Except of course, that it doesn't actually pick on me because it doesn't make a decision to be annoying. It can't help it. It just does what it's been programmed to do.
Oh well. It's only technology, but I like to think that I have a fairly basic grasp of how to use it. I do think, however, that if I have a good grasp of doing basic things, then there must be something wrong with it when it does something unexpected.
And I can't stand it when it does do something unexpected. It's meant to do exactly what you tell it to do, and nothing else. Crashing counts as something else. Chucking me out counts as something else. Not showing words on word processing documents straight away counts as something else. Being too slow counts as something else. Maybe I'm just a control freak, though.
I understand that computers are incredibly complex. But...
Actually, this computer is old. And so I'll be kind, and allow it to have its little foibles every now and again. It's probably amazing that it still works and is still a useful machine.
This computer is pretty reliable. So reliable, in fact, that I rarely bother to save anything until I've finished it. That's not something I recommend doing, but why save something every two minutes when nothing ever happens?
But today, just as I'd almost finished typing up some stuff (and spent a decent chunk of time on it, too) the monitor started to go greyer. The greyness crept down the screen. The greyness covered the screen. And in the middle were some instructions.
That's right. It said I had to restart the computer. To make sure that I understood, it had the same message in about five different languages.
So, did it realize that I needed more typing practice? Or was it just playing some kind of practical joke, for its own amusement?
There's only one thing it does that's more annoying. Very occasionally, it just chucks you out if you do something it doesn't like.
So, are computers horrible to anyone else? I'd hate to think it was only me that they picked on. I tell you, they pick on me to a horrible degree! Except of course, that it doesn't actually pick on me because it doesn't make a decision to be annoying. It can't help it. It just does what it's been programmed to do.
Oh well. It's only technology, but I like to think that I have a fairly basic grasp of how to use it. I do think, however, that if I have a good grasp of doing basic things, then there must be something wrong with it when it does something unexpected.
And I can't stand it when it does do something unexpected. It's meant to do exactly what you tell it to do, and nothing else. Crashing counts as something else. Chucking me out counts as something else. Not showing words on word processing documents straight away counts as something else. Being too slow counts as something else. Maybe I'm just a control freak, though.
I understand that computers are incredibly complex. But...
Actually, this computer is old. And so I'll be kind, and allow it to have its little foibles every now and again. It's probably amazing that it still works and is still a useful machine.
Monday, 1 October 2007
Not a complaint
You will be pleased to hear that I'm feeling happier today than I have for a while. (If you're not pleased, why are you reading my blog?!)
This is partly due to the fact that the social situation at church seems to be finally sorting itself out, and I am not feeling left out any more. The interesting thing is that it's just flipped overnight. Oh well, why should I complain? I haven't done anything different, so all blame for this much nicer state of affairs is not mine.
I'm not sure why it's sorting itself out, and I'm not sure why it would sort itself out now, when I don't mind what happens. I am perfectly happy talking to the little children, and have got over the fact that those my age talk among themselves.
And now, it seems that I am to talk to those my age as well as the little children. If it was this time last year, I'd be happy. But as it's this year, and I'm now used to talking to the little children, I'm surprised.
But I won't complain.
Talking about complaining, at church yesterday we sung this hymn by William Cowper. And this particular hymn has a verse which never fails to make me smile.
Have you no words? Ah, think again:
Words flow apace when you complain
And fill your fellow creature's ear
With the sad tale of all your care.
That is so true. People complain, and most are good at complaining. I do and am, anyway (but I didn't really need to say that, did I?).
But at present I don't feel like complaining. It's just fascinating to see that things currently seem to be happening at the perfect time for me, even down to the people at church suddenly including me. I know, I am a sad creature if all I do with my spare time is act surprised because things are happening at the right time. But I'm allowed to be surprised, especially as I'd given up hope that I would ever be on friendly terms with the people my age at church.
This is partly due to the fact that the social situation at church seems to be finally sorting itself out, and I am not feeling left out any more. The interesting thing is that it's just flipped overnight. Oh well, why should I complain? I haven't done anything different, so all blame for this much nicer state of affairs is not mine.
I'm not sure why it's sorting itself out, and I'm not sure why it would sort itself out now, when I don't mind what happens. I am perfectly happy talking to the little children, and have got over the fact that those my age talk among themselves.
And now, it seems that I am to talk to those my age as well as the little children. If it was this time last year, I'd be happy. But as it's this year, and I'm now used to talking to the little children, I'm surprised.
But I won't complain.
Talking about complaining, at church yesterday we sung this hymn by William Cowper. And this particular hymn has a verse which never fails to make me smile.
Have you no words? Ah, think again:
Words flow apace when you complain
And fill your fellow creature's ear
With the sad tale of all your care.
That is so true. People complain, and most are good at complaining. I do and am, anyway (but I didn't really need to say that, did I?).
But at present I don't feel like complaining. It's just fascinating to see that things currently seem to be happening at the perfect time for me, even down to the people at church suddenly including me. I know, I am a sad creature if all I do with my spare time is act surprised because things are happening at the right time. But I'm allowed to be surprised, especially as I'd given up hope that I would ever be on friendly terms with the people my age at church.
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