replacement blog

This is my replacement blog for one that I completely took the short way out of because I was having a hard time understanding something. At first I was having a hard time finding figurative language, but I think that’s because I was looking for ones that I could explain exactly what they meant, instead of just looking for the figurativeness (if that’s a word). Lines such as, “For to you it has been granted for Christ’s sake, not only to believe in Him, but also to suffer for His sake, experiencing the same conflict which you saw in me, and now hear to be in me.“ I mean, we never saw him suffer. And what does the part about “..and now hear to be in me” mean? I don’t know, but it is still figurative language. The most obvious one I saw I thought was the one about being aware of the dogs. He obviously is not talking about the kind of dogs that go “woof, woof,”, so he is speaking figuratively. The most complicated one I think is “ For to me, to live is Christ and to die is gain”. This is one that I distinctly remember going over in length about in class. There are so many different ways to take and interpret that, and none of them are right or wrong. That’s what is so beautiful about figurative language. Sometimes I wish God had been a little more black and white with certain things, but then again it wouldn’t be such a beautiful picture and we wouldn’t have to work as hard to get to know him better. These were just a few examples from a book filled with figurative language, and it’s been a best seller for years, you should check it out sometime.

Special Post #2

In “A Very Old Man with Enormous Wings: A Tale for Children”, the basis of the story is that a newly married couple with a baby struggling to survive, finds an angel in their yard. It becomes an instant attraction to anyone within driving distance and beyond. It is kept in the chicken coop and not treated with any sort of decency by the onlookers who pay the couple in order to witness the angel. This causes the couple to be able to help their child regain his health as well as build themselves a mansion, all because of the people that came to see the angel. Now, the angel was not exactly treated kindly by everyone, in fact, it was quite the opposite. He was interrogated, burned, beat around, etc. The child ends up getting better and grows up with the angel as a part of his life. Towards the end of the story they try to move the angel inside, but end up bringing it to the barn. At the end of the story, there is a slight sense of hope as the angel regains his ability to fly and leaves the family as he flies into the sunset.

The reason I feel that this text needs to be interpreted is that you could read through it over and over and get something different out of it every time. It’s not a text that I can just sit down, interpret it, and that would be the end of it. Another reason that I chose this text was the fact that I didn’t understand the point to this text at all the first time I read it, so I figured it would help me grow as a reader and a writer to try and interpret it. So here goes….

In couple round about ways, this angel reminded me of what Jesus was to us. I mean, in the story the angel shows up “On the third day of rain…”, similar to how Jesus  arose from the grave after 3 days. The part that struck me though is how the angel handled his persecutors while saving the family and child’s life. Very much like our savior, he took everything without complaining because he knew its what had to be done. No amount of taunting, teasing, prodding could cause him to show emotion, which instantly reminded me of how Christ was ridiculed daily while walking the earth and how calmly he handled it.

A couple things I haven’t figured out quite yet how they tie in yet is why was the angel so old? Why did the neighbor want it dead so badly? Why did the family seem afraid of it?

The main part that I still haven’t decided how I feel about though, is the end. I sway back and forth from thinking it’s a positive ending full of hope, or a depressing ending and a sign of how sometimes we let blessings slip away before we realize they were there. At the end of the story it says “Elisenda let out a sigh of relief, for herself and for him, when she saw him pass over the last houses, holding himself up in some way with the risky flapping of a senile vulture….” See, that makes it seem like the woman thinks they will be better off without the angel. Though it makes me wonder if the author is trying to show how we can get caught in how smooth our life is going and not recognize when such a big blessing is right in front of our face. I mean, isn’t it possible that the angel that they found was their guardian angel using a creative way to save the family? If that is the case then its kind of depressing because they treated an angel so poorly for so long, meaning it probably will never come back even if they needed it.

After reading this a couple times, it really started to strike me inside. It made me think about everything I have to be thankful for in this life and how I show my gratitude for those things. Do I make sure to make it obvious that I am incredibly blessed and thankful? Or do I just lock everything up in a chicken coop because I make my own luck? I know that might sound corny but that’s what I got out of this story. Maybe some other day, some other time in my life I might be struck by something completely unrelated. Just as I am sure that other readers got things totally different than I did.

Overall, I never at once thought there was a clear interpretation to this text. As one of my friends put it, “Ambiguity reigns, and the people in the story-like the readers of the story-merely interpret events, never understanding them. Thus the story defies attempts at interpretation even as it stages the human need to interpret. In short, it is more concerned with the fact that we interpret than with what we interpret. It's a fairy tale without an interpretation; rather, it's a fairy tale about interpretation.” I think that sums it up perfectly. The point of the story will never be one specific thing. The simplest way I can think to describe it is to say that the point of the text is to cause you to TRY and interpret, not figure out exactly what it is trying to say.

“A Very Old Man with Enormous Wings; A Tale for Children”

“A Very Old Man with Enormous Wings; A Tale for Children”, was written by Gabriel Garcia Marquez in 1955. I have a sentence that sums up exactly how I feel about this story: What in the world??? I don’t even know where to start when talking about this story. Part of me wants to think that this was the child’s guardian angel and was just saving the baby in a very different round about way…maybe? But, why was the angel so old? Why were there crabs in the house? What was the point of the spider-girl? Its things like this that make me wonder what the point to this story was (if there was one….). Also, its title “A tale for Children”, really? At what point did this story resemble anything of a children’s book? I felt like many of the characters and subplots were far too complicated and uninteresting for a child to enjoy. I’m not worried that I don’t understand this story though, because I went through a couple people’s blogs and was reassured that I am not the only person who is struggling to comprehend its purpose. Also, why were the people that found the angel so un emotionally attached? Wouldn’t you think if an angel landed in your yard you would want to keep it happy? Because if it is in fact an angel, it could possibly have a lot of friends in some really high places. Although, the world in this story is obviously not our own so maybe an angel meant something different in that culture. In the end, although it seemed very strange and unfulfilling, I couldn’t seem to stop reading it. I found myself consumed with trying to figure out what the purpose of each character was and how it was going to end. So maybe that was the whole point to the story…? Haha I have no idea.

"The Ones Who Walk Away from Omelas"

The Ones Who Walk Away from Omelas” was written by Ursula k. Le Guin. To be honest, when I started reading this story I became incredibly bored. I felt like I was being given a bunch of useless information describing these people and that the story was just going to be one big pointless waste of time. You would think, considering that I’ve thought that about the majority of our readings, I would’ve learned by now. I am still not sure what exactly the point to this story is, but at least it improved enough to get my attention. One explanation I read was Andrew said, ”A world without evil would be a fairytale land. Without evil how could we really enjoy happiness?” I can see where that makes sense at first, because it made sense to me when I first read it. But then I started to think about it biblically, and I disagree with what the book implies if they are in fact implying that we couldn’t enjoy happiness without evil. If you look back to Genesis, there was no evil in the garden at first. There was no pain and suffering. Are you going to try and tell me that Adam and Eve weren’t happy? Or that the only reason we are going to enjoy all of the pleasures of heaven is because there will be thousands of others suffering in hell? So I did not find this story, or what I found it to be implying enjoyable or necessary. I’m sure tomorrow in class though I will hear many different views and things I didn’t catch, so I will most likely change my mind. Oh, and one last thing. Why is it called “The Ones Who Walk Away from Omelas”? the ones who walked away seemed like they had very little to do with the story as a whole.

world without evil would be a fairytale land. Without evil how could we really enjoy h

Philippians

Well, that week off without blogging flew by. I felt like I didn’t even get a break! Anyways, our prompt for this week was to read St. Paul’s Letter to the Philippians and write about the figurative language in St. Paul’s letter. To tell the truth, I didn’t find much figurative language in the book. I actually went through everyone else’s blogs trying to find examples and I like Josh’s the most. As Josh put it, The biggest bit of figurative language I caught was about circumcision. I massive part of Paul’s letters is reconciling the Old Law with the New Law. The Jewish Christians were obsessed with maintaining the Rabbinic Law, of which circumcision was a major part. To Jewish Christians to be a Christian often made them think that they needed to be Jewish, and thus… *ahem* snip, snip. In my opinion Paul isn’t the best one to address this situation considering he is circumcised himself, yet this also makes him the perfect person because he says that he is extremely Jewish (a “super Jew” as Dr. Waddell has put it before). This statement about having “faith in the false circumcision” is not simply a statement about circumcision, but about the entirety of Old Law.” See, I never would’ve have used that example, that’s why this class has been so good for me. Because when I am confused or looking for a new view on something, I can just click through everyone else’s blogs and find something that helps me better understand or interpret in a different way what we’re reading. I am not very good at finding and explaining stuff like this, but if I had to guess, I would say that when it says “Beware of the dogs, beware of the evil workers…”, he is speaking figuratively. Once again, I am not very good at this kind of stuff, but it doesn’t seem like this was the best passage to read to find figurative language.

The Man Who Came To Dinner....and wouldnt let it end

I went and saw the Southeastern University production of “The Man Who Came To Dinner” on Friday night. Now, let me just say up front that I was completely exhausted from the previous two nights, so putting me in a dark room to watch a play I didn’t want to be at, probably didn’t help my opinion of the play very much. That being said, I thought that this play was way too long for the amount of storyline that was in it. I felt like if they wanted it to be that long with the plot they had then they should have made it much funnier throughout. It just began to feel like we were dragging through it, almost as if just trying to take up time. Now I understand that this is completely my opinion, because it seems like most people loved it, for example, Zac said,            

            `“There were only a few scenes where I desired more to go to sleep than I did             to stay awake, and that’s a lot to me, since I’ve never actually been to a formal             theatre house before and seen a play.  And there wasn’t even really a moment                        where I didn’t want to finish the play.”

So he only found it sleepy at parts, while I felt like there was my own storyline going on throughout the play about whether or not I would stay conscious. That just goes to show it’s a matter of opinion, always. Now even though I did not find the storyline enjoyable doesn’t mean that I didn’t appreciate the acting. I felt like everyone in it did a phenomenal job. Being able to stay in character for that long can’t be easy and I thought everyone did an exceptional job at bringing each particular character to life.

In the end, I guess it was a good experience for me, but it was not one of my favorite field trips thus far.

11-10-2010

As I said in my annual class quiz on Thursday, I really enjoyed the second half of the play “The Boys Next Door”. I felt like having read the first act and visiting Alliance for Independence that I had a better feel for the characters and could appreciate their personality quirks and humor they provided. I mean did anybody else find the part where Norman and Sheila are talking at the dance about what kind of flowers they are hilarious? I laughed every time we read that scene last Thursday in our small groups!! Also, the part where I believe its Arnold who says “you have personality traits that are not fun Jack.”, or something like that. Just the scenes like that made this play so easy and enjoyable to read for me personally and the humor far outshined the sadness. I even found myself re-reading certain scenes because I found them so funny!!

Another thing, while we were reading this story the thing that kept jumping out at me was just the innocence of each character and how unassuming they are. That is something that I’ve always felt we could learn from people with disabilities, most the time there is no hidden motive in their actions. As I read through this story I felt like I got to know each character better and better with every page because they just seem so honest and sincere. I really want to see the movie now just to see how they depict each character and see how it lines up with what I have in my mind.

Bottom line is, this was by far my favorite reading and field trip we have done so far.  I enjoyed this play so much that I am looking forward to tell my family about it and hopefully finding the movie.

AFI

For the past week we have been reading a play called “The Boys Next Door”. The play is about the lives of four mentally disabled men living under adult supervision. Now, I have a cousin who is down syndrome who I have interacted with many many times, and I am good friends with AJ Trueblood here on campus who I believe is also down syndrome. I talk to AJ at some point just about every day, sometimes he follows me to my classes, shows up at my door at 1am, and writes on my fb telling me to call him. So I felt like I had a pretty good visual in my head about how the guys in this play were behaving, then we visited “Alliance for Independence” or “AFI” for a field trip. See, I had known AJ on a personal level, therefore seeing how he interacted with “Clinically Healthy” people (I say that with quotations because I believe that most the time clinically healthy people are less healthy spiritually and emotionally than people who have disabilities, like AJ). Anyways, back to Alliance for Independence. Alliance for Independence is a non-profit organization who’s mission is to “offer individuals with disabilities the avenues to explore and experience personal growth and achievement through awareness, education, community resources and personal relationships”. Being there for the short time that we were gave me a chance to see people with disabilities interact with each other in person. It was an awesome experience and I really feel like it gave me a better perspective on the characters in the play being able to see people with all different kinds of disabilities act as a community.

In closing, I really feel like AFI’s vision should be one that we all share, “our vision is recognizing individuals with disabilities for their uniqueness, beauty, and determination of their spirit.”

Rain

I love everything about rain. I even love reading about rain. There is hardly ever a time when I don’t love it when it rains. I mean, besides raining out a sporting event, or ruining a wedding, or making a funeral that much worse, I never have a problem with rain.  I was planning on writing this blog on “The Boys Next Door” after I read it, but as I was coming back from tennis, it started pouring. Which reminded me of how beautiful rain is, and how we have been discussing nature literature. Rain is one of those rare things that can be beautiful, refreshing, annoying, scary, peaceful, etc, at any given time. There is nothing I love falling asleep to more than the sound and smell of rain, while on the other hand, rain can also be disastrous. Also, something about thunderstorms causes me to remember what an incredible God we have. There is something amazing about seeing the lighting and hearing the thunder and knowing our God created all of it just by saying the word that just leaves me speechless. That is just one more reason why I love the rain, it is just another reminder of the power of our creator. Read this verse and just visualize the power God displays in this verse. In Ezekiel 13 it says;

“Therefore thus saith the Lord GOD; I will even rend it with a stormy wind in my fury; and there shall be an overflowing shower in mine anger, and great hailstones in my fury to consume it. So will I break down the wall that ye have daubed with untempered morter, and bring it down to the ground, so that the foundation thereof shall be discovered, and it shall fall, and ye shall be consumed in the midst thereof: and ye shall know that I am the LORD. Thus will I accomplish my wrath upon the wall, and upon them that have daubed it with untempered morter, and will say unto you, The wall is no more, neither they that daubed it;”

Okay, now that I have gone on and on about my opinion on rain, I should probably go read the rest of “The Boys Next Door”. Hopefully it is not about what the title sounds like haha.

Bonny Park and Poem

I went to Bonny Park late Thursday evening because I knew I would be in St. Louis for the remainder of the week. As I was sitting there just taking in the nature around me, I began to think of all the incredible places I have been in my life. See, my family has always had a music ministry and every summer we travel all the way to Maine and then make our way back down. So along the way my Mom has always made sure to stop and appreciate any kind of nature that anyone of us kids found exciting. One of my favorite states to go to is the state of Maine because of the incredible beauty of it, especially in the summer time. One place that I have always found outstanding is “Thunder Hole” in Acadia National Park. “Thunder Hole is a small inlet, naturally carved out of the rocks, where the waves roll into. At the end of this inlet, down low, is a small cavern where, when the rush of the wave arrives, air and water is forced out like a clap of distant thunder. Water may spout as high as 40 feet with a thunderous roar! Hence the name: Thunder Hole.” Being there in person is always an amazing experience, just witnessing the power of the water, and realizing that even though it is so beautiful, it is also extremely dangerous if you don’t keep your distance. Here is a website that has a few pictures of Thunder Hole: 

http://www.acadiamagic.com/ThunderHole.html

Another amazing spot in Maine is also in Acadia National Park, on top of Cadillac Mountain. Being able to see the ocean from a mountain is not something you get to experience very often, and being able to go there at sunrise and sunset because my Grandparents only live 10 minutes away is also a rarity. These are just two examples of some of the incredible experience I have had with nature.

"I went to Lake Bonny Park [or Circle B Bar Reserve] for this field trip, and I stayed there for at least 45 minutes

“Resting in The Grass”

As I rest in the grass

The pendulum rests

in gravity’s cradle

during these purple-hued hours

spinning by after midnight.  

I sit under a night sky

impassioned by celestial bodies.  

watching moon-kissed trees sway

and let shadow’s theater play

upon my impressionable imagination.  

Go deeper still,

to find silence and solitude,

the twin sister muses of a troubled mind.  

Call me Traveler!,

world weary and sundrenched,

I rest down on this grass bed.  

Heaven's veil is a little thinner here,

the Angel's song a little clearer,

and these crimson stains

are white beneath Polaris,

as I quietly drift asleep.

Nature poems

So, Tuesday’s class didn’t exactly help me understand what was going on in the poem “State of the Planet”, by Robert Hass. I mean, we went over some of the nature and wildlife mentioned in the poem, but I feel like there was still a lot I didn’t understand. For instance, “If she lived in Michigan or the Ukraine, She’d find, washed up on the beach in a storm like this Limestone fossils of Devonian Coral. She could study the faint white markings: she might have to lick the stone to see them if the wind was drying the pale surface even as she held it, to bring back the picture of what life looked like forty million years ago: a honeycomb with mouths” Now, could someone please explain what he is talking about when he talks about beaches being in Michigan and the Ukraine? I understand there are lakes in Michigan and the Ukraine, but how would Devonian coral be in a lake?? So while it was very cool and entertaining to go over some of the wildlife and nature that we read about in the poem, I still find it hard to believe that everything that is in this poem is necessary. Or is it okay to include as much material as you would like as long as it’s a nature poem and is well written?  Either way, I find it somewhat annoying at tomes. Does that mean I will never learn to appreciate poetry? I don’t know. I do, however, love everything about nature and I don’t feel like I need to read about it to appreciate it more. I was born with a love for nature and never has reading about done anything else for me other than make me wish I was outside experiencing nature, instead of reading about it haha

State of The Planet

I definitely found the poem by Robert Hass, “State of The Planet”, the hardest reading we have had yet. I have never been a real big fan of poetry, I find it too wordy and somewhat unnecessary at times. In this particular poem, there were times when I began to think I understood what was going on and then two lines later I would feel lost again. Excerpts such as: “In all the ways that all the shapes on earth are multiple, complex; the philosopher Who said that the world was fire was also right- Chlorofluorocarbons react with ozone, the gas that makes air tingle on a sparkling day. Nor were you wrong to describe them as assemblies, as if evolution were a town meeting or a plebiscite. (your theory of wind, and of gases, was also right and there are more of them than you supposed)” Make me wonder why this information is really relevant to what we are reading. Could someone explain to me how this adds to the poem? I feel like I’ve always been taught not to include unnecessary information when writing, and then I read something like this and wonder why it is different for poetry. If there is something I am missing someone please feel free to inform me of it, but I don’t get the point. It could be that I just don’t have the same appreciation for poetry as other people, which is okay, but I just wish that I didn’t have to get annoyed trying to read something this long when I don’t even get the point of the poem, you know what I mean? Anyways, I’ve been learning a lot in this class so far, so hopefully this assignment will be the same way. If not though, I will just have to do my best to suck it up and get through it with a smile.

Lectio Divina

Doing the sacred reading or Lectio Divina was a new and interesting experience for me. Once again, it was better than I had expected. At first I agreed with some of the other people in the class who were saying how it made them uncomfortable because it wasn’t the bible, Josh even said it “almost felt sac-religious”. Once they voiced their opinions though, I really started to think about it and realized that I didn’t have a problem with it at all because it was basically just meditation.

During the sacred reading I didn’t really get anything out of it the first time through. But as we continued the part of the story we were reading really started to come to life in my mind. Now I didn’t necessarily have anything to share with the group, but I feel like that doesn’t mean that it didn’t serve its purpose for me.

The one thing that really stuck out to me as we continued to read a segment of the story over and over again, was the relationship being described between the piano and Sonny. Being a guitar player, and coming from a musically inclined family, it was really cool to read someone trying to describe the relationship between the instrument and the instrumentalist. “He and the piano stammered, started one way, got scared, stopped; started another way, panicked, marked time, started again; then seemed to have found a direction, panicked again, got stuck.” That phrase describes beautifully what it sounds like when someone is struggling to find themselves in a song. Especially knowing what that feeling feels like. So, I’ve said all this to say that I really thought the sacred reading (or Lectio Divina), was a cool exercise and I plan on trying to implement it from time to time in my readings. 

Sonny's Blues

I thought that “Sonny’s Blues”, written by James Baldwin in 1957, was much longer and much different from all of the other stories we’ve read so far in this class, except that it talked about darkness a lot (no shocker there). I actually found it slightly enjoyable to read even though it was so long. I feel like it is one of those stories that has so many hidden meanings though. For instance, when he describes and talks about the revival meeting near the barbeque joint, what was his purpose for describing in such detail what was going on across the street? Did it really add that much to the story, besides an extra page? My strength has never been interpreting literature, so does anybody have any ideas as to why the author was so descriptive about this occurrence?

I also love how you find out as you go what kind of family they are, where they grew up, their beliefs, etc. I think that is a great way to keep readers interested because you want to keep reading so you can find out more about the characters you are reading about. Oh!! Did anyone else notice that some of the characters and their surroundings seem to have been inspired by the writer’s life? He was born in Harlem NY, had a father who was eventually institutionalized, and was discouraged by the racial climate in the United States. All of those things seem to be touched on throughout the story at some point.

Two things that I really appreciated was that the brothers somewhat make up at the end, which is extremely unusual from a story that professor Corrigan assigns. Plus, I really liked the ending too, especially because of how much I love music, so seeing how it was the music at the end that brought everything together was really cool for me. 

So far...

As I was thinking and looking back over my blogs that I have done so far, I realized a couple things. One being that I feel more comfortable with trying to discuss things that we have gone over in class and blogging about it. Another was some of the things we did in order to try and bring the literature to life. Not all of them worked, actually I found some of them very strange, but there were also some that I found very helpful. For example, the painting project, as Andrew said in his blog, “Thursday in class we had to paint a picture using a passage from the book of Joel. I was not looking forward to it because I really suck at drawing and painting. I have an extremely big imagination but I can't put what's in my head on paper with any kind of resemblance.” That kind of describes what I felt going into that activity also, and I was not expecting to get anything out of it. Once we started the activity though, it stopped being about how good my drawing was going to turn out, but instead it became about how much it really made me try to understand and dig into the book of Joel. That is something I would most likely have never experienced if it weren’t for this class.

Also, the visit to the graveyard was kind of a surprise to me. I expected it to be a drag and slightly uncomfortable since I didn’t know anyone buried there. Once I got around that environment though it really seemed to help me understand where C.S. was coming from while writing “A Grief Observed”. The point I’m trying to make is, that I got a lot out of the first half of this semester and I obviously didn’t have an opened mind the entire time. So, I am looking forward to the rest of this semester and going into it with an open mind.

Dayton

            Dayton Bo Stevenson was a born October 14^th, 1975, and was the youngest of 6 children. I, being his oldest sibling, remember everything about him from the time he was born, until where he is now. This story really starts though when Dayton was five. As a child Dayton was one of the cutest kids you had ever seen. He had blonde hair, with a bowl haircut, a scrawny little body that made him look like he never ate, and a smile that could melt any human being on the planet. Everybody loved Dayton. Dayton was one of those kids that never cried, hardly ever needed to be disciplined, and just loved to make people smile.  He also loved to ask a TON of questions, like most normal five year olds do, and try to be included in things that were above his level.

            Now, we were all home schooled by my Mom, so we were around each other 24 hours a day 7 days a week. Looking back now I see how lucky we were, but at the time it was very easy to get tired of each other. So, while we would be doing school, Dayton would usually have to entertain himself, watch movies, play legos, etc. He was fine with that for the most part, but there would be times when he would get bored. When that would happen he would often come to one of his siblings, including me, and try to get us to do something with him. Once and a while, if I wasn’t very busy, I would very unenthusiastically doing something with him for two minutes, almost as if I were trying to reach a quota. Now, when Dayton was only three or four, that wasn’t a problem, but as he got older, he also got smarter and more sensitive. He began to be able to realize when we were blocking him out, or weren’t really interested when playing games with him, or started ignoring his silly questions. After all, we had more important stuff to do then spend time with our little brother.

            As the months flew by Dayton began to interact less and less with his older siblings, which mainly included my two brothers and I. Mostly because our two sisters were much more giving of their time towards him, must have something to do with their motherly instinct. I was too young and naïve to notice at the time, but Dayton pretty much stopped caring if we gave him any attention at all. He would be polite towards us, but as he got older he began drifting away from us. I just figured it was him maturing and that we would still be best buds once he grew up and became more fun to hangout with and talk to.

            So, off to college I went, and both of my brothers followed, while Dayton stayed behind and made his way through high school. As he made friends he began to care less and less about talking to our parents or myself. He would be cordial towards me, but he began to feel less and less like my brother. My parents began to express concerns about his friends, some of the places he was going, and things he was doing. My parents would try to talk to him about it or ask him questions but he would always just avoid their questions. Knowing that what he was doing upsetting my parents, I decided to try and be the noble older brother and talk some sense into him. What I found out though was that Dayton had no respect for me, he didn’t see me as someone he looked up to, I no longer held any significance in his life.

            One would think that finding something like this out would be very hard for me to handle emotionally. Although instead of realizing my mistakes, I let my pride get in the way. I convinced myself that if that’s the way he looked at it then that’s the way he was going to get it, I hadn’t done anything wrong, he was just being dramatic. This is what I told myself, so I kept living my life, while Dayton kept messing up his.

            Time continued to pass and Dayton married and divorced, married and divorced, etc. His first wife gained full custody of the kids and Dayton turned to alcohol to deal with his grief. Dayton was now completely void of the little five-year old blonde boy that was naïve, always happy, and close with his family. He talked only to our sister and that was usually to ask for money or help, he was always angry and depressed, bottom line was, he had lost his will to live.

            On December 8^th 2008, at the age of 33, Dayton took his own life. He didn’t even bother to leave a note, because there was no one here on this earth that he cared about. As I stood there at his burial it began to hit me. All those times as a teenager when I was too busy, the times when I let my pride get in the way of realizing I was wrong, the times when I decided what I wanted to do was more important than my little brother. My eyes filled with tears of regret. It was too late and there was nothing I could do now. What had started out as a few selfish acts had become a lifestyle and in a round about way, helped ruined a young man’s life. Then, while I was standing there mourning and wishing I could do everything over again, I started to hear a faint ringing, so I turned to see if my wife had noticed it, she didn’t seem to hear it. It started to grow louder and louder but only I seemed to hear it.             The next thing I know, I open my eyes to my alarm clock ringing. As my eyes begin to adjust I realize I’m back in the house I grew up in as a teenager. I slowly stumble out of bed, thinking only about finding my siblings. As I get to the doorway of Dayton’s old room, I see a little blonde boy, sound asleep in his bed. Once again tears fill my eyes, this time though out of joy, because I realize that it had all been a dream. There, in the bed in front of me was once again the little naïve boy that I knew and loved so much. Suddenly I didn’t remember anything I had planned on doing that day, all I could think about was spending time with my siblings and showing them how much they mean to me. As Dayton began to wake he looked at me and gave me his adorable little smile as asked if it was time to wake up. I couldn’t even respond, so I just went over, pulled out his favorite game, and started to set it up. His face lit up as he jumped out of bed and raced over to set up his pieces, and I just sat there, thanking the Lord for reminding me of where my priorities should be.

This Blessed House

The story “This Blessed House” makes me ask multiple questions. One of the first ones being, why did the people in the house before them leave all of the Christian stuff behind. Is there some sort of symbolism behind that? Were they trying to leave a witness to the next owners? Were they turning from the Christian faith? Any ideas…?

            Another question I found myself asking was, if I was placed in a similar situation, how would I react if my wife started relishing old “buddhist” statues? Most likely I would have a problem with it. I would feel like my wife was compromising what she believed in. I also feel like it would also be even tougher if my wife had a personality like Twinkle.

            Also, it makes me wonder if Twinkle, by accepting the Christian artifacts is more secure in her faith than Sanjeev, or more open to other beliefs? Because at first I automatically assumed that Sanjeev must be more dedicated to his religion than Twinkle since she doesn’t seem to have any problem with other religions, but when I really thought about it, maybe it is because he is weaker. Maybe he can’t handle having other religious artifacts around because he is more insecure in his Hinduism faith than Twinkle. Especially since at times when I feel like I am not as string in my faith I tend to be even more aggressive toward other religions and beliefs. Why? I couldn’t really tell you, that’s just how it is.

            So, does anybody else have any different views or opinions on some of the things I brought up? Because I love hearing all the different perspectives everyone in our class always seem to have. Also, that is really the whole point of this blog, to dialogue with each other in between classes, right?

             

!!

I love the description in “My Tea with Madame Descartes”, especially when the author is talking about Madame Descartes herself. David St. John, the author, really uses great analogies to describe how beautiful she is in his eyes. Excerpts such as “I’d never seen a beauty like hers, riveting as the Unicorn’s soft eye…..her beauty was singular, Volcanic, viscous…as inevitable as lava moving slowly toward you... Her beauty was so close to a vengeance-one exacted by the world upon those of us so ordinary, so weak, we can barely admit its existence” really jump out at me and I find myself reading them over again. The main reason is that I don’t understand how people think like that, or think of analogies as unique as the ones David St. John uses.  I mean, I know everybody has different talents and skills, but being able to write that creatively is one that I really respect because I am so NOT good at it. 

                  I also think its is interesting how we don’t realize that the person giving the interview is so self conscious until the very end of the story because of how he reacts to having his picture taken. Once I realized this, I went ahead and re-read the story, and I could really see how his character is self-conscious throughout the whole story, it just isn’t obvious until after you’ve read the end. That was a very new experience for me, I have never gone back and re-read something unless forced to, but after reading the ending, I had a better idea of what the characters were like when reading it the second and third times. Anyways I’m sure most of you are much more into literature so you’ve experienced this many, many times before, but I just though I would share my new found accomplishment haha…goodnight, sweet dreams

To be perfectly honest, I was dreading Thursday’s class. It took everything in me to buy the supplies and force myself to go to class. I felt a little bit better when I found out that we would pick a verse to paint on, because its hard to come up with something with nothing to go off of when you’re not enthusiastic about it, ya know? Once I chose my verse I was very pleasantly surprised at how easily ideas came to me. Now, I am in no way saying that what I came up with was well done by anyone else’s standards, but to me it made sense haha. As much as I didn’t look forward to the painting project, I cannot tell a lie, I actually found it enjoyable and useful. Trying to think of what to paint caused me to have to really think about the text and what I was trying to portray through the picture. Doing that seemed to bring the text to life more in my mind. The part of the passage I chose was in chapter two and it said “A day of darkness and gloom, A day of clouds and thick darkness, As the dawn is spread over the mountains”. So having to try and paint something that would convey that, I had to picture that kind of darkness and gloom and what it would look like, and that really helped me to get involved in the text, if that makes sense..? Anyways, I feel like I am starting to ramble, so I am going to stop. The main thing I was trying to say was that I actually enjoyed our painting project and it definitely helped to dig deeper into the text. Once again, this class is really taking me out of my box!

I do not think that I am alone in the view that the field trip/experiment we had in class the other day was at least slightly awkward for most people. I personally thought that it was a very awkward experience , but then again maybe that is because I am not a big fan of really picking apart literature, which is why this class is good for me. I would also like to say however that the main thing I got out of this expedition has to do with the authors of the bible. The fact that none of these men had a master’s degree in journalism or any specific training just goes to show again how amazing our God is. He took ordinary men and had them come together, through him, to write the most beautiful book ever written. There are all different styles of writing throughout the bible, with each book being a different size and having slightly different information, yet that has not stopped it from being a bestseller for hundreds of years. I had never really stopped to think about that until yesterday. Most of the time I had always just read the Bible as an instruction book, or a way for God to communicate to me. Now that I think about it though, there is some really amazing literature, especially in the poetry department. So from here on out I am going to make an effort to try and see the Bible in a different way and think about who wrote the book, what people they are talking to, with what attitude the book was written, etc. I would encourage you to do the same, because I think it will help us from getting in a rut and not really digest what we are reading from God’s word. 

Joel

Until a couple hours ago I don’t think I had ever read the book of Joel in the Bible. I don’t really know that I expected anything in particular, but I was still sort of surprised by the book. I feel like it is a beautifully written but slightly depressing book.

In chapter 1 it says, “What the gnawing locust has left, the swarming locust has eaten;

And what the swarming locust has left, the creeping locust has eaten; And what the creeping locust has left, the stripping locust has eaten.“ I don’t know about you, but that verse makes it sound like the situation is pretty much a hopeless one. Of course, the Lord doesn’t let the chapter end negatively, at the end of chapter 3 he describes how Judah will be blessed: “And in that day the mountains will drip with sweet wine, and the hills will flow with milk, and all the brooks of Judah will flow with water; and a spring will go out from the house of the LORD to water the valley of Shittim.” This part of the passage just reminds me how great and merciful our God is. Not that I don’t get reminded daily, it’s just always refreshing though to be reminded through the Lord’s word of how gracious he really is. Even in a chapter where it talks about the nations being judged, the Lord makes a point of mentioning that he will reward the faithful in the end. Now, I realize that this might not have anything to do with literature necessarily, but sometimes I just feel like we need to remember what a great God we serve and how good he is to us. So maybe next blog I will concentrate more on the literature side of the book of Joel, but this was more important tonight. Make a point tonight to thank the Lord for being so great. God bless and goodnight.

....

I really had no idea what I was getting myself into when I signed up for this class. So, the first day of this class I was sitting there freaking out inside. Mainly because I am not a big reader or writer, unless it is something I am passionate about. So the first few classes I dreaded going, and was just in pure agony. I didn’t know how I was going to keep up with 2 blogs a week AND commenting (to make things worse, I missed the first blog of the semester haha). Now that I have started to get into the flow of the semester though and am really making an attempt, it is becoming not so bad. I have started to somewhat enjoy some of our discussions and I really enjoyed the C.S. Lewis book “A Grief Observed”. Hearing some of the experiences of others in the class caused me to look at things in different ways. I also really enjoyed the lunch day we had, I found it very enjoyable to be able to discuss things that we appreciated and not things we were forced to discuss. That does not mean in any way that I understand why we do some of the things we do in this class or that believe everything we do in this class is necessary. All I am saying is that I feel like I am getting better at being able to contribute to the conversations. For example, the painting thing kind of scares me. I have very very little artistic ability to begin with, and I find it very frustrating because of that! So hopefully I will be able to get through that without looking like a total idiot (there really is no chance of that though), and continue to learn to appreciate this class for the rest of the semester.

Tiger Flowers Cemetery

As I left to head to Tiger Flowers Cemetery, I found myself thinking that it was going to be hard for me to get anything out of it, seeing as I have never lost anyone close to me. I mean, sure, I’ve lost an uncle and a couple great-grandparents, but no one close enough to me that I had a hard time getting through it or visiting a cemetery. So, as I walked around the cemetery, just thinking to myself, I began to think about my family. It’s amazing how even though i was in a place that signified death all I could think about was being alive, how great my life is, and the people in it. I know that some of the people that rest in that cemetery probably did not have everything that I’ve been blessed with in this life, and also that some might have been just as blessed as me but didn’t realize. I guess what I’m trying to say is, being around death really inspired me to be grateful for what I have, and to let the people around me know how much I love them. The LAST thing I ever want to happen is to have someone close to me pass away and them not know how much I loved them or how much they meant to me. Thinking about that made me see how C.S. Lewis could write a whole book on his grief, I mean the things he describes feeling I could see myself going through the same emotions if something were to happen to someone I love. So even though I’m sure I could keep writing about things I thought about, I’m done with this blog now, because I have more important things to do; for instance, I want to go call my family on skype. "I went to the Lakeview, Roselawn and Tiger Flowers cemetery complex for this fieldtrip, and I stayed there for at least 40 minutes."

Anyways...

When I was trying to think of what to blog about tonight, I started trying to think of what my favorite book of all time was. I had a couple different books that came to mind, but one just blows the others out of the water in terms of being the most moving and emotional book ive ever read.  The name of that book is “Lone Survivor: The eyewitness account of operation redwing and the lost heroes of seal team 10”, by Marcus Luttrell with Patrick Robinson.

            Granted, the majority of it is written by a United States Navy Seal, so it might not be the most well written book you’ve ever read, but the story itself it makes up for it big time. It starts off kinda slow and talks about what Luttrell went through during his training. Before reading this book I had no idea the things that the seals are put through, it was mind-blowing. Anyways, the majority of the book goes on to talk about Luttrell and 3 other Navy Seals team members who were performing a routine mission, when they came under attack by over 200 taliban fighters. During the firefight that ensued all three of Luttrell’s teammates end up being killed, right in front of him. I don’t want to give too much away but Luttrell was the “Lone Survivor” of his group and the story of his survival is absolutely insane.

            I mean, I am not a big reader, I don’t read books for enjoyment, but this book was soooo good, that I found myself taking it to work with me because I could not put it down. The things that this man went through and the way he describes it made this book an unbelievable read, and I even found myself tearing up at times. So I highly, highly encourage anyone I know to give this book a chance, it truly is a testament to what some human beings go through for this country. 

Theme and Moral

Wow, the chapter on "Theme and Moral" felt like the most repetitive piece of homework I have ever read. I felt like I was reading a chapter of the bible over and over in different translations and versions….well, anyways…

I really liked the part where it talked about music having such a big effect in movies. Coming from a musical background and playing multiple instruments, it always fascinates me how people use music to complete a movie/scene. I often find myself listening for what kind of music is going on in the background throughout movies, skits, plays, etc. One specific movie that comes to mind is “The Dark Night”. In that movie the villain is “the Joker”, played by the late Heath Ledger, and although he does a very good job at being disturbing and menacing, that wouldn’t be enough without the music. For me, the eerie music that plays in the background during his scenes pretty much “makes” his character. The cool part is, most people probably don’t even notice the music and how it complements the movie. So next time you watch a movie, I encourage you to make sure you listen to the music and try to figure out what effect it is adding to the scene and if you think it complements the movie as a whole or not. I have yet to find a movie where music takes away from what the movie is trying to portray.           

            On a little side note, I find it very amusing that in “The Girl and the Wolf” the author states that the girls these days have gotten smarter and harder to fool because she shoots the wolf, but it still killed her Grandmother. So the girl apparently wasn’t smart enough to keep from telling the wolf where she was headed and that her grandmother would be there.

What We Talk about When We Talk about Love

            What We Talk about When We Talk about Love….

            Mel Mcginnis seemed to do the majority of the talking in this story, as well as most of the drinking. When he first started out he seemed really calm, almost like he knew what he was talking about, but the more he drank the more aggressive he became and the less understandable he became. Towards the end he became very scattered, and you could tell he was extremely drunk.

            I thought Terri Mcginnis was pretty laid back for the most part, even when her husband got loud or angry towards her. She didn’t speak too often, but when she did, she got her point across swiftly.

            Raymond and Laura Carver were both very quiet, positive, and politically correct when they spoke. They both seemed to make sure they didn’t offend either Terri or Mel. And when they did rarely speak it was usually about how they were “so in love”.

            According to Mel, real love is nothing less than spiritual love. Where as Terri believed that if you say you love someone and act upon your feelings and desires that can be considered love also, even if that person is harming you in any way. The Carvers seemed content not giving their complete opinion, while also making it obvious that they are as in love as it gets.

            Based on their unspoken signals I think it’s pretty obvious that Raymond and Laura are still in the “honeymoon” type stage of their relationship, seeing as they can’t keep their hands off of each other. While Mel and Terri seem more focused on being right and having their opinion shared with the group, because they are often doing things that give the impression they are not paying full attention to each other.

            This story as a whole seemed very choppy to me and lacked direction, although maybe that was what the author was going for. Maybe he was trying to symbolize that love is complicated and no one will ever have all the answers?