Digory Meets Greatness

Digory Kirke is an ordinary boy, living an ordinary life in London in the nineteenth century. Well–ordinary inasmuch as he wasn’t anything extraordinary. He had a strange name, and an unfortunate story–father away in India, mother dying, having to live with a crazy old uncle and aunt–but he really wasn’t that special.

Certainly, no one could ascribe greatness to young Digory Kirke.

Yet he was about to embark on an adventure that would shape the rest of his life. Through his adventures, he would meet greatness–and not a few imitations–and come out the better for it.

Digory’s personal ascent towards greatness begins at a low point–when, despite Polly’s apprehension, he rings the bell in Charn and awakens the Empress Jadis. Full of himself and his own importance, he argues with Polly and makes himself more like his Uncle Andrew than he’d ever wanted to be. Digory is stunned and in awe of the beautiful and powerful woman his actions have conjured–and almost instantly regrets his foolish action.

He would live to regret it still more when Jadis returns to this world and offers a threat to Digory’s mother’s peace. And yet again he would regret his actions when they seem to stand in the way of receiving help for his mother from Aslan.

Standing in front of Aslan, Digory has a huge chance to make things right by admitting to his role in bringing Jadis into Narnia. He also has a great inducement to lie. Why would Aslan help Digory’s mother if Digory were to admit to doing something so awful? Digory wants to hide his role in the matter–and tries his hardest. But Aslan gives him opportunity after opportunity to tell the truth. And finally, the truth comes out.

Digory brought the witch to Narnia. Digory brought her into our world from Charn. Digory awakened her from her sleep in Charn. Digory hadn’t been enchanted when he made the decision to ring the bell. He’d made the decision in his right mind, willfully deciding to disregard his friend’s warning.

Digory had to ‘fess up to the truth. He had to make clear his culpability in the matter. And then, he was given the opportunity to make it right. Aslan sent him on a quest to find the fruit that would protect Narnia for hundreds of years. Digory could not bargain with the Lion. He had no chips with which to bargain. He was in the wrong and he must make it right. If his mother died, his mother died. He could not do wrong again–even for his mother’s gain.

Digory’s task is made even more difficult when he arrives in the garden to find that the witch has preceded him there. She tempts him first with personal greatness–claiming that if he were to eat the fruit, he would be great and they could rule together. Digory sees through this ruse. He has seen what aspirations of greatness have done to Uncle Andrew and to Jadis–and he has no desire for such a fate. But when Jadis brings his mother into the equation–offering him the opportunity to save his mother by forsaking his duty and breaking the rules–Digory is faced with an awful choice.

Seeking his mother’s well-being was a good motive. It wasn’t like Uncle Andrew’s or Jadis’s motives of personal greatness and gain. Yet, was the end–his mother’s well-being–enough to justify the means? Could he break the rules and consign the people of Narnia to a life of torture in exchange for his mother’s life? In doing so, he would be just like Andrew and Jadis, considering himself above the law and considering everyone else as mere tools to accomplish his own purposes. But in doing so, he might save his beloved mother? What was he to do?

Thinking of his mother, Digory realized that his mother wouldn’t like it. She wouldn’t like for her son to be a thief and a liar–even for her sake. And when the witch mentions Polly, Digory’s eyes are opened to the cruel heart behind the witch’s enticement. He refuses to yield, instead running boldly away from sin. And with that action, Digory achieved true greatness.

Digory’s greatness came, not in proclaiming himself as above the law, but in submitting himself to the law. His greatness came not in destroying others to meet his own gain, but in being willing to lose what he regarded most in the world (his mother) to do what was right. And as Digory died to himself, Aslan returned to him his greatest desire. Offering Digory an apple from the new tree, Aslan offered to Digory a reward for his obedience: his mother’s health.


Case Studies in Greatness: Aslan

We don’t meet Aslan until halfway through the book–and even then, we do not know Him by name. We know Him only by His actions. We know a voice, more beautiful than any other sound ever heard. We know a song, more beautiful than any other melody ever composed. We meet Aslan as a voice that can sing the world into existence.

Then, by the light which He Himself has created, we can finally see the Lion.

We see the Lion in contrast to Jadis, when Jadis’s blow glances off Him, bothering Him not in the least. Rather than using people for His own gain; we see Him going amongst the animals, choosing many for their own gain. While Jadis brought death to all creatures within her domain (even to the blades of grass), Aslan brings life to His domain–life beyond anyone’s wildest dreams. His chosen animals and trees and waters are not only living, but have souls. He gives them life, yes–but goes beyond to give them souls that they might love, think, speak. Where Jadis took everything she could from everyone, the Lion gives all that He has created to the creatures He has chosen.

The contrast between Aslan and Uncle Andrew also becomes apparent. Uncle Andrew’s first thought, in this new world where a torn crossbar grows into a new lamp-post, is to exploit it for his monetary gain. Aslan’s first action, after the creation of this marvelous world, is for its protection. He gathers a council to warn them of the entrance of evil into this world, He prepares a way by which the evil can be held off, and He states from the beginning that He intends for the worst effect of this evil to fall upon Himself.

Both Jadis and Uncle Andrew think themselves above the rules. But if anyone were above the rules, it would be Aslan. Surely the great power that created the entire world could break its rules–the very rules that He created. But Aslan does not break His rules, even when the rules mean that He must bear great pain. When Jadis ate the fruit of eternal youth (the fruit created at Aslan’s word), how easy would it have been for Aslan to have decided that the fruit would no longer bring eternal youth. But Aslan does not break His rules, any more than He would change His nature. Jadis will be forever young, and Aslan will suffer to make things right according to the rules which He has written.

Aslan is great because He is good. And if ever Aslan should cease to be good, His greatness would be diminished. He would be, not a great and benevolent king, but a petty and foolish ruler, such as Jadis and Andrew are. But thankfully, another aspect of Aslan’s greatness is His unchanging nature. He is good, He always was good, and He always will be good. And His goodness, His greatness, enlivens the entire world.


Case Studies in Greatness: Jadis

“And you could see at once, not only from her crown and robes, but from the flash of her eyes and the curve of her lips, that she was a great queen.”

Thus we are introduced to the woman who would haunt the remainder of the Chronicles. Jadis, the last queen of Charn. The White Witch of The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe, who styles herself Queen of Narnia and Empress of the Lone Islands, who know the deep magic from the dawn of time. The specter whom Nikabrik’s foul companions would seek to conjure up in Prince Caspian. Her later companion, the Lady of the Green Kirtle, would wreak havok on Caspian’s heir in The Silver Chair.

Jadis is great because she is quite literally larger-than-life. She towers over the children, over normal people, and even over the usually-quite-tall Uncle Andrew. She is great because she is powerful–able to demolish huge gates with the force of her will and to cause all living things to die with the Deplorable Word.

But ultimately, Jadis’s greatness is cruelty and destruction. In a power struggle with her sister, she considers it nothing to “[pour] out the blood of [her] armies like water” to meet her ends. And when even the death of her subjects was not enough to stop the sister, Jadis speaks the deplorable word to kill every living thing except herself. When the children protest of her killing so many innocents, Jadis proclaims: “Don’t you understand?…I was the Queen. They were my people. What else were they there for but to do my will?”

Like Uncle Andrew, Jadis feels that consideration for others and adherence to moral law are beneath her. “You must learn, child, that what would be wrong for you or for any of the common people is not wrong in a great Queen such as I.” Once in this world, she uses her power to manipulate Uncle Andrew, to throw Aunt Letty across the room, and to plunder the city of London. Yet she justified all this, for she “[was] the Empress Jadis.”

In Narnia, Jadis meets a being larger than her, with a power much greater. Her every word and action was destruction, but now she meets a lion who sings a world into existence. HE is huge, magical, and HE creates rather than destroying. “This is a terrible world,” she declares. “We must leave at once.”

When she is unable to escape to another world, she boldly throws a lamppost at the lion. It causes him no harm, which terrifies her. She has met a greatness that she has no power to harm. She cannot create–what’s more, she cannot destroy THIS power. Jadis’s greatness is exposed as a sham in the light of Aslan’s power.


A “Great” Weight

I ran into an old friend of mine today, a friend I hadn’t seen in several years. She gave me a hug and then stood back a bit to inspect me. “Wow, Rebekah.” she said. “You look amazing!” Then she asked, “How much weight did you lose?”

The comment was so unexpected, it threw me for a minute. I mean, I did lose a bit of weight my 2nd senior year of college–the same weight I’d put on my senior year of high school. Neither weight change was expected or intentional–and neither final weight was inappropriate. It just happened–I went from low normal to high normal and back again. No biggie.

At least, no biggie to me. I’ve always felt comfortable with my weight, whichever/whatever it might be. I thought my body was fabulous at 160 pounds–and I still think it’s fabulous at 145 pounds. I don’t feel any different because I’m 15 lbs lighter. I’m not particularly any more or less healthy than I was when I weighed more. After all, I’ve always been an appropriate weight.

I mean, sure, I’ve noticed the comments I’ve had in the last couple of years. Someone asks me if I’ve always been this little. Another someone says I’m disappearing. Someone else says they wish they were as “skinny” as I am.

I’ve blown them off as being symptoms of everyone else’s weight obsessions. Especially since most of the people making these comments are certainly not overweight. I’ve never seen anything out of the ordinary about my own body.

But Julie’s comment today makes me wonder. Maybe I do look different than I did two years ago. Maybe it did change my appearance a bit more than I thought.

The problem is, people seem to think my “skinny-ness” is something to aspire to.

Julie says she wants to take my example. The gal who asked if I’ve always been this “little” (How a 5’10” woman is “little” is somewhat beyond me) envied the weight that I maintain so effortlessly.

But the truth is, I’m not any different than I was 15 lbs ago, when no one was aspiring to be me. I’m not even physically different EXCEPT IN LOOKS. My health status is virtually the same, my risk of disease the same, my self-image the same.

15 lbs ago, I was at a healthy weight. Now, I am still at a healthy weight; albeit a different one. The only thing to recommend this weight over that one is that I better fit society’s “ideal woman”.

It’s been an informative experience for me–one that has convinced me that we are an overly weight-centric culture.

Many of my colleagues in dietetics would disagree with me. They would say that this emphasis on weight is good. After all, weight status and health status are linked.

Problem is, too few people understand that weight (just like most other indicators of health status) is a balance. Take potassium for example. Unless you have had renal issues, you probably are unaware of the important role potassium has in your body. Your body has a tight range of potassium balance that must be maintained. If it gets too high, your body shuts down. If it gets too low, your body shuts down. Likewise, too high a weight is unhealthy; and too low a weight is unhealthy.

Yet somehow our culture has taken to thinking that weight problems are just a one way issue. They think that lower is always better. Even the health industry has gotten in on this. Did you know that once upon a time, the “overweight” classification began at a BMI of 27? That’s because risk of chronic disease increases at a BMI of 27. So why do our current recommendations place the “overweight” designation on anyone with a BMI above 25? Good question. The data doesn’t necessarily support it. The World Health Organization decided that they’d do better with a bit of a “fudge factor” down–and Centers for Disease Control followed suit.

And then your average citizen, who doesn’t know that the category is already “fudged” down, lowers the category a little more. They reason that if 25 is overweight and overweight is bad, then they better stay as far away from 25 as possible. And so an eating disorder is born–or if not an eating disorder, then certainly an unhealthy attitude towards health, self, and food.

Did you know that the “healthiest” BMI might actually be somewhere between 22 and 25? People above and below that BMI are at greater risk. So, let me ask you–based on what I just told you, am I healthier at my current weight (at a BMI of 20.8) or two years ago and 15 lbs heavier (at a BMI of 22.9)?

Do you see what I’m saying? I’m actually farther from “the ideal” than I was 15 lbs ago. But public perception is the exact opposite.

Weight is a touchy issue–but I feel our culture has been addressing it the wrong way. We’re the most weight-obsessed culture on the planet–but the only thing its accomplished for us is an “obesity epidemic” and an increasing prevalence of “disordered eating”. By focusing on weight, we’ve created a culture with more weight problems than any other.

What do I suggest? Certainly you can work towards getting to a healthy weight–ideally at a BMI between 22.5 and 25. But health is more than just weight–and you’d do better to be focusing on other indicators. For example, you could start looking at some other health-related numbers: HDL and LDL cholesterol, triglycerides, blood sugar, blood pressure, and resting heart rate are just some examples of other numbers to be looking at. You could also focus on behaviors that effect health: exercise, fruit and vegetable consumption, whole grain consumption, saturated fat intake, etc.

In general, it’s time that we got out of our weight rut and started thinking about promoting health.

Where I got my numbers:

Body mass index and cause-specific mortality in 900,000 adults: collaborative analyses of 57 prospective studies. Lancet. 2009 Mar 28;373(9669):1083-96.

  • Meta-analyses of 57 prospective studies exploring the relationship of BMI with death.
  • Mortality (death rate) was lowest for individuals at a BMI between 22.5 and 25.
  • Risks for death associated with heart disease increased at a BMI above 25.
  • Risks for death associated with respiratory disease increased at a BMI below 22.5

Bits of this and that

I’m become a bit TOO familiar with the definition of the word paresthesia. (And for all you worry-warts out there, NO I do not have MS. It’s more likely a slight repetitive strain injury sustained while bicycling.

That’s right, I said bicycling. I’ve been doing a bit of it because Joanna and I (and maybe my mom and dad and her dad and brother) are going to try to ride the Cowboy Trail next year. Joanna and I did ~13 miles on Sunday, my folks and Anna and I did ~5.5 yesterday, and Anna and I did another 5.5 today. All in all, a fun time. Thank God for a nice cushy seat (or I’d be talking SADDLE SORE!)

Speaking of Joanna, I’m reminded that I need to get to work on another baby quilt (I’m reminded because we generally quilt together). A friend of mine in KC has a baby on the way and I’ve been invited to her shower next month. That means I’d best get moving. I wonder, does she know if she’s having a girl or a boy? (I seem to have a preponderance of little girl fabrics lying about.)

On a completely unrelated note, one of my favorite “male bloggers” wrote a couple of days ago about the Codex Sinaiticus. It’s online now. Really. Don’t I wish I could read Greek.

Another of my favorite male bloggers (okay, he’s the only other blogger in my “male blogger” folder) left a comment on his own page explaining a bit about the pirate poster. Really, I think our police chief is fantastic–and the pirate poster never fails to be amusing.

Did you know that ducks live in trees? Well they do. Really.

Earlier this evening, I Googled “how to twitter at someone.” It’s an unusual sensation–being technologically illiterate. You can follow me @bekahcubed.

And I’m clearly getting a bit spacey–since I just almost took my full round of morning meds instead of my evening ones. Maybe an indicator that it’s time to head to bed?

Ooo–except that I’ve got to get in a last comment. We ate the first tomato from my plants today! It was delish!


Lessons learned…

When I spent a summer as a housekeeper at the Sawgrass Marriott, I learned a lot. I learned how to fold fitted sheets. I learned how to make a bed “from side to side”–only walking around the bed once. I learned how to fold towels into fans and points. I learned fold points in the toilet paper. I learned how to dry a shower curtain. I’ll probably never again use most of those things (except folding a fitted sheet–I use that one on a weekly basis!) But, from being on the other side, I learned how to be a good hotel patron. I learned to use the luggage rack instead of piling my luggage on a bed. I learned the value of a tip. I learned to NOT stash the little containers of lotion and shampoo every day–wait until the end of your stay, then stow them in your bag before you leave. I learned the value of the “Do not disturb” sign–and the importance of removing it after you’re done.

Likewise, I learned an awful lot about dietetics from my time at St. Elizabeth Regional Medical Center–but the stuff that will stick with me is what I learned about being a patient.

I learned that age isn’t about how many birthday’s have gone past, it’s all about the attitude you’ve chosen to take towards the life you’ve lived.

I learned that stupidity knows no age limit–and that it’s worth being avoided at all costs.

I learned that family can be a hindrance or a help to the healing process.

I learned that power of attorney is a VERY good thing.

But the message that sticks with me the most, the piece I feel compelled to share is: DON’T PUT OFF TAKING CARE OF YOURSELF.

I’ve seen way to many patients who were dying and didn’t have to be. They ignored their checkups, they ignored their bodies, they didn’t go to the doctor for years and years. And when they finally got to the hospital, it was too late. They had a terminal diagnosis and nothing could be done but to put them on palliative care.

Please don’t be that person. Even if you don’t think anything is wrong with you, you should go in to the doctor for a routine physical AT LEAST every three years. Women should have a gynecological exam and breast exam every year after the age of 21 or the onset of intercourse, whichever occurs first. After age 50, this should include a mammogram. Men should go in for a testicular exam every year. After age 50, both sexes should get colonoscopies every 10 years and fecal occult blood tests more often than that. You should have a fasting lipid panel taken AT LEAST every five years. And you should be regularly screened for hypertension (at every visit and at least once a year.)

And when your doctor tells you something? Take it seriously. When your doctor tells you to get your diabetes under control and refers you to a dietitian to have diet counseling? Do it. Even if there’s an extra cost, you’re worth it. I’ve seen way too many people who let their diabetes fly out of control and are now missing toes, feet, and even whole legs. Your doctor tells you that you need to lose weight. Get serious about making sustainable lifestyle changes. I’ve seen too many people who continued along their current course and now have complications that can’t be treated–surgery is too risky for someone their size.

These kind of patients tear me up. Not just because they’re in pain or because they’re dying, but because it was PREVENTABLE. They didn’t have to be in pain, they don’t have to be dying. They had a choice. But when they had the choice, they chose not to take it. Rather than staying on top of their health, they decided to just let it slide. And it slid to places they never wanted it to go. Please, please, please, don’t be one of those patients.

Make your decision now. Choose life.


Simple Sunday: That My Bike Was Still There

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~Thankful for so much it’s crazy!

  • Thankful for this class being over–it was a busy five weeks.
  • Thankful to be done with my case presentation.
  • Thankful to be done with clinical rotations–only 3 more weeks ’til I’m done with the internship for keeps!
  • Thankful for good friends and a great family (who I now have time to spend with since the above is done.)
  • And mostly, thankful that my bike wasn’t stolen this afternoon.

Bicycle

I’ve had shoes stolen out of my car at that library–so when I realized I hadn’t brought my bike lock, I was a bit aprehensive. I fiddled about with the bike for what was like five minutes, trying to decide whether to actually go in and browse like I had planned. Finally I decided I might as well leave it in God’s hands and go get my books.

Boy was I relieved when it was still there–and with all it’s doo-dad’s too.

Visit Davene at Life on Sylvan Drive for more Simple Sunday posts.


Simple Sunday: Sunday School Silliness

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~Thankful for a chance to be silly with some of the “adults” at my church. We just finished a round of Sunday school classes–and, as is our tradition, we had a Sunday school fellowship hour to wrap up this segment and begin the next.

We fellowshipped for a half an hour or so over coffee and donuts–then my dad, the elder in charge of Sunday Schools, handed out little scraps of paper in preparation for some Bible trivia. The Bible trivia was a lot of fun–and got even funner when some of the *ahem* adults in the room decided to start making and launching paper airplanes using the leftover scraps of paper.

Paper Airplanes on the Floor

Absolute hilarity.

Just to clarify, I was not one of the *ahem* adults who started the juvenile behavior. Both the youth and the 20S Sunday School were decorous almost until the end. The instigator was a woman who shall remain nameless but who happens to be a mother of a couple of 20S and a youth–and the wife of an elder currently on furlough.

Visit Davene at Life on Sylvan Drive for more Simple Sunday posts.


Plants need water

I’m considering myself a brand-new gardener, having never gardened successfully in the past. I have only gardened in the same way that Fannie Mae, Freddie Mac, and American car companies have been successful business–via the bail-out.

It’s only my mom’s patient bail-out that kept our family from starving (okay, I’m exagerating a little) those years that I tried “taking over the garden.” I didn’t water often enough, didn’t weed often enough, lost interest before harvest came close. I was a horrid gardener. Mostly because I didn’t really tend the garden.

This year, I’ve been a bit better–probably because “gardening” is on my daily to-do list. Even so, I have days (or weekends) where I fail to care properly for my plants–and the plants suffer as a result.

My tomato plants needed water this weekend, water I didn’t give them. So now they look like this.

Tomato Plants

My tomatoes need water every single day.

So do I.

…My soul thirsts for You;

My flesh longs for You
In a dry and thirsty land
Where there is no water.

Psalm 63:1b


Simple Sunday: International Quilt Study Center

~Thankful for quilting–and the long tradition of quilting that goes on before me. Thankful for the opportunity to enjoy the International Quilt Study Center with a friend and fellow quilter this afternoon.

State Flowers Quilt compliments of International Quilt Study Center

The above quilt was created from a kit–only the quilter appliqued each individual flower rather than embroidering it. Each piece is tiny–and incredibly intricate. Read more about the State Flowers Quilt on the IQSC website–and sign up for an e-mailed Quilt of the Month club if you’d like.

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Visit Davene at Life on Sylvan Drive for more Simple Sunday posts.