In Which I am Blue

A couple nights ago, I found myself unexpectedly singing Madame Blueberry’s tune…

I’m so blue-hoo-hoo
Blue-hoo-hoo
Blue-hoo-hoo
Blue.
I’m so blue I don’t know what to do.

I’d spray painted a thrifted file cabinet a beautiful navy blue–and hadn’t realized at the time that I’d also painted myself rather blue.

Since I was wearing a skirt and a sleeveless top while painting (what else?) I’d managed to cover both my legs and my arms with a fine mist of blue paint. Strangely enough, it was the backs of my legs (which faced away from where I was spraying) that got the most paint. And since it was the backs of my legs that got the paint, I didn’t realize that I’d painted myself until hours later when I was preparing for my bath. Whoops!

Now, I don’t know what most people do when they paint themselves blue… (What, you’ve never painted yourself blue? Come on, you gotta live a little.)

But what I did was…well, really, I didn’t notice the extent of the problem until I was already in my bathwater. Which is a rather inconvenient.

So I lathered and scrubbed. I grabbed a salt/oil scrub and lathered and scrubbed some more. I alternated soap and salt scrub and soap again, until at last, in the dim light that is my evening bath atmosphere, I looked clean.

I drained the tub and started singing a different song.

I had left a great blue ring in the tub.

What to do? What to do?

Being a great reader, I grabbed mother’s best dress and wiped up that tub ring quick as a spot.

But now mother’s dress had a spot…

Okay, I didn’t really use mother’s dress. I used my trusty spray bottle full of vinegar and one of my bathroom-cleaning rags.

But I did think about using mother’s dress, if mother’s dress were around.

But I suppose it wouldn’t have been wise even had mother’s dress been around, because I had no Voom to ultimately make it go away–and even if I had Voom, would Voom work when there’s no snow?

It’s dry here. Very, very dry.

I’m bleeding blue for the farmers. One I know is spending thousands of dollars a day to irrigate–and may or may not end up with a crop to show for it.

Yes, that’s why I painted myself blue. For the farmers. Of course.

I knew I had a reason…I just had to come to it.


Thankful Thursday: New Friends and Old

Thankful Thursday banner

Make new friends
But keep the old
One is silver and the other gold.

I don’t know that I’m the quickest to make friends or the best at keeping them. I tend to be very task-focused and forget I have friends. I have to continually remind myself that maintaining friendship requires investment.

I have to take the initiative, make the time for friends.

But despite my failings as a friend, I am thankful for the wonderful women I call friends.

This week I’m thankful…

…for like-minded companionship during state survey
One of my facilities was in survey last week and the beginning of this. It was, as it always is, busy and stressful. But the stress of survey was in a great way allayed by having plentiful opportunity to catch up with a fellow dietitian.

…for a quick stop-over from my folks
It was so nice to have my parents come to church with us and to go out to lunch with them after church on Sunday. They were on their way north for vacation and decided to stop in. So wonderful!

…for movies with my sister
After we successfully completed our survey (truly successfully-with only one tag for the entire building!) and after I’d celebrated with the team (erm, somewhat exhausting, actually, I’m not much of an after-work drinks person), I drove home and watched half of Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone with Grace (who was on her day off). I got a bit too sleepy to make it through the whole thing, but it was fun to be nerds together, exclaiming and complaining in turn as the movie producers got something right or wrong.

…for a night with the girls
We’ve all been crazy busy this summer, so it’s been what seems like ages since the old Bible study crowd had a chance to talk. So when we did all go back to Wednesday night Bible Study to send Beth off to Greece for her short-term missions trip, we were talking up a storm. It was so good just to give and receive hugs, to catch up on life, to be silly and to be serious, to cry and to laugh, to just be with one another.

I am so blessed by these friendships, old and new and in-between.

Thank you, thank you, Lord.


Should I follow the OT “Food Rules”? (Part 4)

Last week, I asked the question:

Must the Christian Jew continue to follow those laws that were intended to identify the Jews as distinct from the rest of the world? Does the Christian Jew need some sort of external practice or mark to identify Him as chosen by God?

To answer that question, I turn to a passage that is often (incorrectly) applied to the question of the New Testament believer’s obligation to follow the Old Testament dietary law: Acts 10.

In Acts 10, the Apostle Peter has a vision in which a sheet comes down from heaven filled with all sorts of unclean animals. A voice sounds in Peter’s ear, enjoining him to kill and eat. Peter, a devout Jew and law-keeper, declares “By no means, Lord; for I have never eaten anything that is common or unclean.” But the voice rebukes him, “What God has made clean, do not call common.”

Often, this passage is given as a proof text for the acceptability of, say, bacon for the New Testament believer. But this isn’t how Peter (under the inspiration of the Holy Spirit) interprets his vision. Peter interprets his vision as a call to him as a Jew to not keep himself separate from Gentiles. Huh? That seems very strange, except for what the Holy Spirit said to Peter immediately after the vision.

While Peter was contemplating his vision, the Holy Spirit spoke to him, telling him that three men are seeking him. The Holy Spirit directed Peter to “accompany them, making no distinction” (Acts 10:20 ESV-alternate translation).

Why is this directive so unique? It is because the three men in question are Gentiles, the people the Jews were supposed to be distinct from.

Yet the Holy Spirit tells Peter that now is not the time for making distinctions. Why not?

I believe the answer is found at the end of the chapter:

“While Peter was still saying these things, the Holy Spirit fell on all who heard the word. And the believers from among the circumcised who had come with Peter were amazed, because the gift of the Holy Spirit was poured out even on the Gentiles.”
~Acts 10:44-45

Something unique happened here among the Gentiles, something that set them apart from all the other Gentiles, something that identified them with the Jewish believers in a way circumcision and rule following could not. The Gentile believers received the Holy Spirit.

All that the laws of distinction had been intended to provide, to point forward to, were now fulfilled as the indwelling Holy Spirit fell upon the Gentile believers.

While circumcision was an outward mark to indicate one’s identity within God’s covenant and obedience to the external laws of the first covenant, the Holy Spirit circumcised the hearts of the physically uncircumcised, indicating their new identity as partakers in the new covenant and signifying the obedience of Christ on their behalf.

There was no longer a need to make distinction between Jew and Gentile. Another distinction had been made, one that far superseded the shadow of the Old Testament law of distinction.

A new group of people was being called out, from both the circumcised and the uncircumcised, a group marked by a new identity, completely distinct from those around them. These were the chosen of God, bought by the blood of Christ, sealed by His Holy Spirit.

The laws of distinction had been fulfilled and could now pass away. Just as, once the Ultimate Sacrifice of Christ was complete, there no longer remained any sacrifice for sin; so, once the Ultimate Distinctive of the Holy Spirit’s seal had been made, there no longer remains any laws of distinction.

The dietary laws are complete, fulfilled in Christ’s death, resurrection, ascension, and the receipt of the indwelling Holy Spirit.

The New Testament believer, whether Jew or Gentile, need not bind himself to a law that has already been completed.


Fairy Tales: Truth Veiled

The young Caspian is the epitome of child-like faith.

Enthralled with the stories his nurse has told him, longing for days long since past, his faith finds voice when his uncle asks him what he might wish for that would be better than being King of Narnia.

“I wish–I wish–I wish I could have lived in the Old Days.”

The power-hungry Miraz, always alert to threats to his authority, is suddenly watchful, now slyly seeking information from his unsuspecting nephew.

Caspian, too young and too naive to recognize his uncle’s tone, blathers on about the wonders of the Narnia of yesteryear.

Finally, the usurper’s edict comes down. Those were mere fairy tales and Caspian was not to talk–nor even think about such things again.

Fairy tales.

Curious things these.

Lewis recognized their power, their ability to go beyond morals to convey truth.

While scheming parents (or modern ones, as we see in Caspian‘s sequel) quell the fairy tales in favor of cold, hard fact; Lewis gives fairy tales prime time.

To Lewis, fairy tales aren’t wishful thinking–they’re whispers of lost reality. They’re echoes in the heart that hearken to a word once spoken but now lost.

The young Lewis felt a thrill as he read Norse fairy tales. He felt the power of those stories, even when he did not understand it.

The adult Lewis came to believe that those stories were true. Not factually accurate, but true portrayals of reality. True tales of spiritual realms, of hearts’ longings, of epic bravery.

Is it surprising that the tales Miraz derides as “nonsense”, a “pack of lies”, and “silly stories” turn out to be true in fact?

Of course not.

For Lewis, fairy tales were the truth, veiled.

The childish wonder at a fairy tale is only one step away from fully mature faith.

Even if Caspian no longer believed those fairy tales to be true, he dreamt that they were. He longed for a reality beyond himself.

It was this longing that made Caspian into the man he became. It was this longing, rooted in his childhood faith, that made him the King he became.

Longing for the fairy tales, once he discovered that they were true, made him into a man worthy of tales.

Chronicles of Narnia Reading Challenge


This post is one part of my investigation of how different characters in Prince Caspian relate to the truth. I am reading Prince Caspian as part of Carrie’s Chronicles of Narnia Reading Challenge. Follow the link to see who else is participating in the challenge–and to read some of their posts.


Bittersweet Mornings

This morning has been the very definition of perfect.

Waking up with sun, knowing that I have plenty of time to do whatever I want to do.

Spending hours in the Word, digging deep into I John, letting the Word transform me.

Getting dressed and going to my car to get my hairbrush (which I left there yesterday after a rather rushed morning).

Bringing in the waffle blocks I’d bought at a used store last week. Searching for the perfect striped twill I’d gotten a few weeks before to make toy bags with. Cutting out a bag in the right size.

Seeing that my sewing machine was already threaded with black thread and deciding to get my black mending done while I was at it. Having plenty of time to mend several dresses and a couple pairs of slacks, even to rip out a seam that I wasn’t satisfied with.

Changing to white thread and whipping up the toy bag. Running the rope in the casing and filling the bag with waffle blocks.

Making my breakfast and enjoying it while writing a blog post.

No morning could be better.

Yet even in this, my heart is not content.

Like Naomi, returning to her homeland when God has visited His people with food, I entreat those around me to call me Mara.

God may have abundantly blessed me with today, but I am bitter that this is not my every morning. I am bitter that I have no children to play with my waffle blocks, no someone to admire my recently altered dress. I am bitter that I must work long hours in the world, leaving few for the home where I love to be.

I speak to my soul, telling it to be quiet. “Be still. Be at rest. Rejoice in the day that the Lord has given you.”

My heart does not want to listen. It wants to wallow in discontent.

I must point Mara to the end of her story, to Obed, to the promise of God in Christ.

I am not husband-less. I have Christ.

I am not child-less. I have Christ.

I am not without a Provider. I have Christ.

So do not call me Mara. I am not she.

Bitterness has no place in my soul.

Instead, I will sing like the women singing to Naomi:

“Blessed be the Lord, who has not left you this day without a redeemer, and may his name be renowned in Israel! He shall be to you a restorer of life and a nourisher of your old age, for your daughter-in-law who loves you, who is more to you than seven sons, has given birth to him.”

I will choose to sing with these:

“Blessed be the Lord, who has not left me this day without a Redeemer. May His name be renowned in all the earth. He is my restorer of life and the nourisher of my age; for He is more to me than anything.”


Reflections on the Frog Prince

Relationship advice abounds, little of it sound.

For instance, have you ever heard this one?

“You have to kiss a few toads before you find a prince.”

It’s an apt analogy but awful advice.

Some men are toads, some are princes.

You want the princes, you don’t want the toads.

All good so far.

Problem comes with the implicit acceptance that kissing toads just comes with the territory.

Um, hello!?!

Toads give you warts.

So do toady men, when you get too close.

I’ll wait to kiss until I’m sure I’ve got a Prince.

Just sayin’.


Thankful Thursday: Not My Life

Thankful Thursday bannerWanna hear a little story about my amazing Monday? I arrived at work to learn that one of my dietary managers had been in a serious car accident. I’ll need to take a more hands-on role in kitchen management. An hour later, I got a call from a second dietary manager that state surveyors were in the building. I left immediately for the surveyed building. Later that day, another phone call notified me that the third of my dietary managers would be taking two weeks of medical leave immediately. I’d be taking on all charting and some additional tasks at that facility as well.

So I’ve been a bit stressed. Things have been a bit hectic.

But not my life.

Because my circumstances are not my life.

Christ Jesus is my life.

This week I’m thankful…

…that God never gives us more than He can handle

“And my God will supply every need of yours according to his riches in glory in Christ Jesus.”
~Philippians 4:19

…that my life is hidden with Christ

“For you have died, and your life is hidden with Christ in God. When Christ who is your life appears, then you also will appear with him in glory.”
~Colossians 3:3-4

…that this world is temporary

“And the world is passing away along with its desires, but whoever does the will of God abides forever.”
~1 John 2:17

…that I have an eternal hope

“But when the goodness and loving kindness of God our Savior appeared, he saved us, not because of works done by us in righteousness, but according to his own mercy, by the washing of regeneration and renewal of the Holy Spirit, whom he poured out on us richly through Jesus Christ our Savior, so that being justified by his grace we might become heirs according to the hope of eternal life.”
~Titus 3:4-7

These circumstances are not my life.

Christ Jesus is my Life.

Thank you, Lord.


Should I follow the OT “Food Rules”? (Part 3)

Now that we’ve discussed the who and the what of the Old Testament dietary laws, it’s time to ask ourselves our initial question again.

Should I follow the Old Testament “Food Rules”?

From our first session, we can clearly see that Gentile believers have no obligation to follow the Old Testament dietary law. In our second, we questioned but did not answer whether Jewish believers should follow the dietary laws. That is what I shall attempt to answer today.

I argue that there are two types of laws given in the Old Testament: universal law (sometimes called the “moral law”) which springs from the nature of God, and specific law (including sacrificial law, civil law, and laws of distinction) which is given for a specific people in specific circumstances with a specific purpose.

The former laws are universal (duh) and unchangeable. All men everywhere are accountable to obey them at all times. The latter laws, on the other hand, do not apply in certain circumstances. There are three reasons why a specific law may not apply to an individual:

  1. If a person does not belong to the group to which the command was given, they are not obligated to keep that specific law
    For example, only those who had taken the vow of the Nazirite were required to avoid all fruits of the vine; only male Jews or male aliens who wished to become Jews were required to be circumcised
  2. If the circumstances for which the law was given have changed, one is no longer obligated to keep that command
    For example, the civil laws regarding punishments for stealing, killing, adultery, etc. were given for the ruling of the theocratic nation of Israel. That nation no longer exists.
  3. If the purpose of the law is fulfilled, there is no longer a need to continue to follow the external law meant as a shadow to point towards the thing that would come
    For example, the sacrificial law and all the laws regarding temple ritual have been fulfilled in Christ, who was the ultimate sacrifice and who established in the church a temple not made with human hands.

If the purpose of the dietary laws are, as I purport in my previous post, to distinguish the Jewish people as separate from all the other nations of the world, the next question to ask is whether that purpose has been fulfilled.

Must the Christian Jew continue to follow those laws that were intended to identify the Jews as distinct from the rest of the world? Does the Christian Jew need some sort of external practice or mark to identify Him as chosen by God?


I was hoping to finish this week-but I have, yet again, let my word count run away from me. Next week, I’ll pick up where I left off, looking at Peter’s Vision and the conversion of the Gentile Cornelius.


Prince Caspian: Returning to Narnia

It always stuns me a bit, how dense the Pevensie four can be.

Magically whisked out of their own world and placed along a coast of quite another, they haven’t a clue where they are.

Actually, that’s not quite right.

Lucy questions hopefully, “Do you think we can possibly have got back to Narnia?”

Yet she and the others seem entirely satisfied to drop the idea when Peter responds: “It might be anywhere.”

Why?

Why don’t they get that they’ve returned? Why can’t they understand that, of course, they’re back in Narnia?

I want to shake them, so accustomed I am to the multitudes of routes by which one might enter Narnia.

But I have to remind myself to step into their shoes, to see through their eyes.

While I have already read three books of Narnia, they have only lived two. And their two are really just one story, mostly just one visit through a single portal.

They have only entered Narnia through a wardrobe, have only known a certain way for magic to operate.

They recognize the magic but not the destination. This is not the way they are used to getting to Narnia.

Like a passenger approaching a familiar place from the opposite direction, they were confused by what they saw.

Lucy’s response is hope, hope without any apparent basis, hope easily squashed by Peter’s simple words. “It could be anywhere.” When “anywhere” turns out to be somewhat reminiscent of Narnia, with a great hall and a dais, she suggests that they “pretend we were in Cair Paravel now.”

Susan responds with a wistful nostalgia, missing Narnia but acting as though she has no hope in returning. She dreamily singsongs about “our castle of Cair Paravel at the mouth of the great river of Narnia.” She chokes up when she sees the golden chessman, speaking of the lovely times she remembers.

Edmund plays the pragmatist, seemingly unconcerned with where they are so long as they survive. He suggests that they search for fresh water, that they eat their sandwiches before they go bad, that they should somehow figure out how to survive within the woods.

And Peter–Peter is forever logical. “It could be anywhere,” he declares when they have just arrived. He does not know enough to say and so he won’t.

When they find a castle and begin to speculate, Peter is the one who correctly identifies the place they’re standing as a hall with a dais on one end.

And when Susan finds the golden chessman, it is Peter who connects the dots and concludes that they are in Narnia, articulating his logic in four points.

Now Edmund is the skeptic, questioning Peter’s conclusions, bringing up holes in his theory.

Lucy devises an hypothesis to test whether Peter’s conclusion is true.

Susan would rather not explore, would rather not know, would rather leave it all alone.

Chronicles of Narnia Reading ChallengeHere, as the four return to Narnia for the first time since they ruled as kings and queens, I am fascinated by how they approached the truth I can so plainly see. I am transfixed by their range of attitudes, emotions, and thoughts as they question where they are.

All throughout Prince Caspian, I see a theme. How will each character respond to truth? Will they seek it or run from it? Once they have found it, will they embrace it or fight against it? Will they dismiss it as a story, twist it in fear, or welcome it as a friend?

I’m eager to further explore this theme as we header further up and further in!


This post is (as most of you can guess) part of my participation in Carrie’s Chronicles of Narnia Reading Challenge. Follow the link to see who else is participating in the challenge–and to read some of their posts.