Historic

I heard the news last night about Osama Bin Laden dying as part of a military action.  All I could do was sit there.  I thought of the people who have died, both here and in other countries.  I thought of the gift of leadership that this man had, that was so twisted into hatred.  But, when it came down to it and hearing the news, all I could feel was pity.  I felt sorrow for the family of this man, family who will always have memories and who will always be impacted by his action.  I felt pity for the people who rely on such hatred to make change in the world.  It was a historic moment, one that will impact the world for years to come. 

Celebrating Weird

   I can confess without discomfort that I am a bit odd to most way of thinking. I’m fine with that because it’s who I am. I am eagerly reading about how the Middle Ages were formed according to our modern since of history; Tolkien’s iambic pentameter is something that strikes my ear as great beauty, I nearly always have a camera with me and take around 3 to 300 pictures a day. There are enough pre-conceptions out there that this has not always been something that was comfortable. High school yearbooks have the words “so sweet” in them so much that I remember wiggling up my nose at the words. Sweet? Really – that seemed like such a cotton candy, melted and non-consequential word. But, truth be told I really wanted to be able to feel like I fit.

   It wasn’t until later that I started feeling more comfortable in my skin. History, love it! That’s okay, that’s just me. Yes, I will sing in the store and may have odd bits of songs running through my head at whatever you said. I get absolutely thrilled when I can master a difficult piece of software or understand statistical analysis. That just makes my day!
   We are all made uniquely, different from each other. We probably all hear someone tell us when we are younger that if the entire world were alike it would be a terribly boring place. Well, yes that is probably true. However, we continue to seek out and match up our similarities. Let’s celebrate our unique propensities.

Repetitive History

   I’ve been really enjoying a new book about how the history of the Middle Ages as we know them came to be. What has really amazed me about this is how some of these historians and their accompanying philosophies had a tunneling effect, one reflecting the other back and forth over and over. In the end, their entire world was filtered through these ideals and they started to formulate their current ideas of government, ethics, societal structure, and economics based on an empire of the 11th or 12th centuries.

   I love history. I love studying history, especially the Middle Ages. It’s not just the romanticized ideals of chivalry, knights, and codes of honor. Instead, it’s more of the massive changes and upheaval that people went through and how they very much prepared the foundations of our own world. Still, I also understand that I cannot make the world around me function like the world at that time.   
   Our filters and perceptions of what reality is and should be, is not only influenced by historical and cultural mores. It is also impacted by our personal decisions, expectations, families, and other circumstances. We then look out at the world around us and it is as if we are wearing glasses that change the way that we see. For these historians, it was viewing the world through the records about the empires of Frederick II, Otto III, and the common law foundings of the British Empire. For you, it may be television, books, family, friends, work, etc… In the end, we have to be careful what filters we put in front of us, to choose those which are wise and good.

The Impact

   I’ve been blogging about the concept behind the community that was impacted by their involvement in eternal history. A baby is born and it ripples the history of the world for a family, generations even perhaps. But, after so many many years, the current significance wanes and it becomes historical impact instead. Then, there was a child born that changed the precedent and made such an impact that it forever changed history and our current lives.

   You are most likely familiar with parts of the Christmas story. Maybe it’s the touch of the mother Mary holding her new baby. Or perhaps it’s through the beautiful and ear catching tunes of the season. But, there are many details that we are not privy too. And thinking about the impact of that life, the birth of God’s son, I cannot imagine the community being impacted in anything less than dramatic and impactful. We are not told the story of the how the shepherds retold the story of that night filled with angels for years to come. We do not know what the actual sight of the birth was like, who heard the cry of a woman giving birth, who heard the sound of a brand new baby. Who held him and watched him blow bubbles as all babies do or roll over for the first time? Did Joseph pace or sit near Mary, encouraging her. Perhaps he was squeamish and removed himself from the birthing area. Were there others there to help her? Zechariah was part of Mary’s life and no longer silent after his son John was born. How did he share that story, with whom?
   In my own community, there are many who are preparing to celebrate. My own hands are feeling the tired strain of writing Christmas cards, knowing that my a’s and e’s and starting to blur together in cursive writing. Trees are decorated, presents are purchased (though not yet wrapped), there are parties and programs, choir concerts, friends and dinners. Such a hubbub of the next few weeks. Obviously, that birth still impacts us in a tangible way now. But, what about our hearts, does it impact our hearts? The birth was a miraculous thing. It entailed the sovereign Son of God relinquishing his total control, total power to a mother and father who did not have a manual in how to raise him. There was no magic wand that could be simply waved over his head and wah-lah – it’s all done and good. It took work and care. Today, the relationship with Jesus still takes work and care. And the effort that is plied into this will be reimbursed many times over, in an eternally impactful way.

Dishes and Abigail

   When I was a little girl, I liked doing the dishes just so I could play in the bubbles. Tonight after dinner, I spent a few minutes doing the dishes and was musing about what fun that was. Even now, I love the feel of the water and the bubbles on my hands, the smell of the clean kitchen. Then, my thoughts wandered to Abigail Adams, one of the main characters in a biography I’m reading. She is someone I think I would enjoy sitting down to a meal with and then the kitchen cleaning afterwards.

   Is there someone out of history that you would bring into your life for just a few hours if you could? So you could see them and hear them? Mrs. Adams is one I would love to spend some time with. She was a capable woman, capable of great strength, loyalty, courage, and endeavor. While her husband was away leading the nation during a war, she was back much closer to the front lines of battle. Troops walked past her front door on a daily basis. And yet, she carried on at the farm, writing her husband letters of what they were doing, how the crops were doing, how much he was missed, and her love for him. She had pluck, braving smallpox inoculations to help her children survive that dreadful disease. It must have been something to sit next to her and just listen to the stories.
   Yes, if I could play in the bubbles, wash the dishes and talk, I would love to talk with Abigail.

The Smell of Books

I love to read. As a little girl, if I didn’t have a book with me at breakfast, I read the cereal box. Admittedly it would easier to just download my books, but there is something about the way they smell, the feel of the pages. Reading, especially in the bathtub and right before I fall asleep, I get to soak in the words of different authors. To Kill a Mockingbird has been stealing my sleep lately, as I become caught up in the world of Maycomb, Alabama and the Finch family. How I love the look into Mayella Ewell and her geraniums, Miss Maudie’s azaleas and lane cakes, even Mr. Arthur Radley who watches his children. Or getting lost in Tolkien’s words as I journey into Rivendell and wish to linger there.

I finished To Kill a Mockinbird yesterday, reliving the tension of the last chapter once again. But, now what to read? There are so many books that I want to read, I don’t even know where to start. Melville, Whitman, Homer, Michner, history, non-fiction, fiction, biography, novel, historical novel, poetry, iambic pentameter, fantasy, translated, multi-cultural, religious…. The list goes on and on!
I need to make a decision, and am just not sure where to even begin. I’m open to suggestions and ideas. Tennyson maybe?

Preparation

I can be a bit geeky at times. No really, I mean it! But, trip planning for me is normally the time to kind of let my inner geek have a field day. I blame it on all of those years of travel with my mother who diligently read the guide book to me, instructing me and insisting I had the history of each town we came to. But, for trips normally I have a three ring binder with all of the maps, confirmation numbers, contact information, location information, and budget information all neatly three hole punched and put together. A pocket that is also three hole appropriate normally resides in the back – or rather two. One for pens, pencils, sharpees and any other miscellaneous small item and another for receipts and perhaps the unwitting seed I might find and want to save.

As I prepare for a trip home, the preparation this time has been a bit different. Business of life has led me to gratefully rely on my mother, for this girl’s trip, to take care of all the minutia of planning. I know she has done a fabulous job and it has been an enormous stress relief for me. All I have to do is get some clothes, the camera of course, and various plant gathering tools thrown into the van between now and our departure. The preparation for a trip is part of the fun of a trip, as you build anticipation of what you will see and who you will get to catch up with.
My three ring binder will be staying at home this time...       maybe.