From One World into the Next

My first PhD semester has ended. Since August, it has seemed to me that my life is being rewritten while I am still unsure what character I should be. I have many questions without answers. Who am I? What does it all mean? Shouldn't I grasp more of this plot? Am I on the best path here?

In mid-November, school became a blur as I raced to meet deadlines, and the sheer volume of work overwhelmed me. I had a major research paper with comparisons between biblical Greek, Hebrew, and Aramaic. There were forty academic books to read and write about. My translation of the Aramaic sections of Ezra were due in one week, just before exams. My Aramaic final was very challenging; I struggled with every rare word and verb form. Each task took three times longer than anticipated in a new culture with unfamiliar, and often unspoken, expectations. By Thanksgiving, I knew I would learn primarily by trying and falling short, but I must try with all my might, even so.

Honestly, I was drowning in work, with heavy rain on my head and water rising at my feet. I did not see how I could complete my assignments. Yet, amazingly, as I moved forward, hour by hour, I managed to survive. At certain points, I paused to drink in the beauty around me on one of my walks; there in the woods, I was restored briefly--before plunging back into the deluge. In the last three weeks, orientation was impossible. Point north might be anywhere. I needed to trust that God had me, even when I felt lost.

Then, in a moment, after my last exam, it was over. The waters abated, and I could see the moon above me in a navy sky. There was a great hush--still night, holy night, God is here, Emmanuel, my breath--I could hear my breath, and then sleep folded like a blanket over my weariness.

The next morning I awoke to snow. Swift and sweet, Christmas has arrived with full force. Now quick preparations are underway for guests, gift-giving, and travel. Everywhere we go, we are awash in lights, greenery, and music. My tired eyes are dazzled. Like a child of Narnia, I have tumbled from one realm into the next.

Standing upright in this moment is my joy to the world. With Noel rushing upon me like a blazing star filling my dark night, with angels singing glories filling my ears, I am here. I am here.

Come, Lord Jesus. May you find room in my heart, poor and burdened, as it is.

Photo of snowy bricks in Germantown, PA by Dave Tavani.

Go to Joy

This morning I’m listening to worship songs on Pandora for the first time in weeks. These songs used to be a significant source of private encouragement. “I will stand my ground where hope can be found,” used to be my battle cry (from “O’Lord,” by Lauren Daigle). These songs pull me back to an earlier phase of my educational journey, when I was transfixed by the wonders of translating the text of the Bible in its ancient languages. Then the great crystal sea of God’s Word rose in my horizon like a shore that had been waiting for me, but which I did not know was there until I arrived. I dived in and lost myself for five years.

Who says that there is no glory in this life? Scripture is a glory, a sea full of holy life. God gave me a small bowl in which I could carry a little portion, and from which I could share this life with my friends. Like fine heirloom silver, I treasured this life in the text, in spite of uncertainty in our future, the burdens of taxing requirements for my degree, interpersonal conflicts, health problems, and grief over private losses. Joy in the text rode on top of these troubles like a slim, diaphanous sailboat which could not go down. Buoyant and swift, it led me forward into greater light, into national conferences, and eventually to this place. Such was my life, my true and transcendent life, in a land of summer.

What I realize now is that the earthly problems continued to be problems until we moved. But the joy of the text remained in spite of the problems. That joy has transformed me. I no longer recognize myself. I have experienced so much change that I do not know where I am going next. Nothing prepared me for this great love and cataclysmic upheaval which has leveled everything else I thought was part of my life. Past things are gone. Memory is the gift they left behind. Yet I am more fully alive than I have ever been, alive to a new life that I could not have envisioned five years ago.   

From these experiences, I have learned that  trials and anxieties are a constant, shifting presence in our world, but genuine joy in the Lord cannot be taken away. Earthly life is a strange endeavor, and there are many unexpected developments. In a fallen world, we make investments without knowing which ones will produce permanent benefits. But God’s joy remains.

In addition to all of this, I'm amazed at how a new, rich earthly life has emerged in the midst of pursuing heavenly joy. Here I find beauty and meaning, health and strength, love and laughter, all bubbling up around me. I left everything behind, yet I have everything I need. This is not for me alone. Ministry pours out spontaneously wherever I am. As C. S. Lewis wisely wrote in Mere Christianity:

If you read history you will find that the Christians who did most for the present world were just those who thought most of the next. The Apostles themselves, who set on foot the conversion of the Roman Empire, the great men who built up the Middle Ages, the English Evangelicals who abolished the Slave Trade, all left their mark on Earth, precisely because their minds were occupied with Heaven. It is since Christians have largely ceased to think of the other world that they have become so ineffective in this. Aim at Heaven and you will get earth 'thrown in': aim at earth and you will get neither. It seems a strange rule, but something like it can be seen at work in other matters. Health is a great blessing, but the moment you make health one of your main, direct objects you start becoming a crank and imagining there is something wrong with you. You are likely to get health, provided you want other things more--food, games, work, fun, open air. In the same way, we shall never save civilization as long as civilization is our main object. We must learn to want something else even more.

From this vantage point, I urge every friend to pursue the greatest, deepest joy that points toward God and his work. Jesus said, “Where your treasure is, there your heart will be also" (Matt 6:21). And I would add to his words, when your heart has found true lasting treasure, you will change the world.  

Journal for the Journey

As smoke and dust clear from the first six weeks of this semester, I'm putting together a refreshed edition of my beloved bullet journal which has kept me so well for the past year—with a firm hope that I can sustain a balanced life, even in this rigorous, doctoral program. From past experience, I know that I must write my way through difficulties and challenges, disappointments and triumphs, in order to remain whole. I must write my way through every research project, my heavy course load, and my dissertation.

I need to create a space that lets me "talk" about my experience in a highly personal manner. I need to notice and express  emotions and spirituality, not just academic and vocational progress. Unless I'm careful, I can become so consumed by work that I lose myself in the battle to get it done. How easy it is for me to live as though my life is all about the battle and nothing but the battle! Over time, such devotion brings me no advantage. It drains my enthusiasm, strength, resilience, flexibility, creativity, humor, and compassion. At the same time, I know that eliminating the work is not a viable solution, because the work itself matters. What I need is a third space, which is neither work nor home, where the noise of the world is hushed, and I can "come in out of the wind," as C. S. Lewis once wrote. More than anything else, writing about my life and my work  is the key to creating this third space.


Regardless of what anyone else might think, I am a writer. I write in order to learn, to think, to find my way, to know myself, to make a contribution, to shine light in dark places, and to know God better. I am a writer in the marrow of my bone. Writing is how I weave a worthy life out of the tangled threads that have come to me across time and space. I weave as I write, and I weave from what I write.

Here on the page, I find my heart’s rest, where it beats still quietly and steadily. Here I know that I am real, and the storms which have washed over me have not taken me away. I am a writer in the breath of my soul. Here I am, and here I shall be found, all my days.

Learn Aramaic, Part 3

By mid-semester, we have reached a consensus.

I'm beginning to see some of the reasons for my professor's inductive teaching methods. Biblical Aramaic was not organized by the Babylonian grammar police, if there were any. Aramaic words may be spelled more than one way, or they may be borrowed from another language (like Persian) which means they don't always follow Aramaic patterns. Also, margin notes on differences between what is written (ketiv) and how it should be pronounced (qere) occur frequently. Today, the corpus of Biblical Aramaic literature is slim, leaving scholars a comparatively small collection to analyze. Given this particular situation, a standardized vocabulary glossary or grammar guide is less helpful than we might expect.

At the same time, I am a Language Design Diva. I maintain that language usually has a design, because people create conventions for effective communication. Although active language is always changing, linguistic alterations serve a common purpose of expressing ideas, feelings, events, and needs. There are also issues of honesty, concealment, and deception to consider, because people use language to obscure as often as to reveal. But every aspect of language has purpose; even concealment and deception require order.

Grammar and syntax are part of language design. We are limited in our understanding of any language when we don't understand how its grammar and syntax are organized. So I'm pushing back on the class curriculum with my questions about structure. For example, is the vav letter used to connect clauses AND show relationships between them? Could a vav indicate emphasis or even intensification? Might the vav show condition, subordination, or purpose from one clause to the next? If so, it would be translated with more options than simply and, or, and but. A vav could be rendered in English as also, even, when, that, and so to express various relationships between clauses. I asked about this possibility in class last night, and after some initial hedging by the professor, I was finally rewarded with a "yes," supported by the Hebrew and Aramaic Lexicon of the Old Testament (HALOT) and some reflective discussion.

My professor understands me better now. He knows that I'm not just being difficult. He recognizes that my desire to comprehend Aramaic propels me to ask such questions. After the third class, we briefly discussed my dissertation work (which will include the book of Daniel), so he knows I'm serious. He is patient with my mistakes and my pursuit of orderliness, while he functions by a fluid style of language learning which I don't quite grasp. Even so, I'm faithfully doing all the assignments he prescribes. I have found that there are benefits in simply reading a passage repeatedly, even when everything in it is not completely clear.

For my midterm, I practiced reading Daniel 2 and 3. I was surprised I could do this after six weeks of study. My professor's fluid, inductive style does work---especially with a little help from supplementary references. I suspect that I will never find it comfortable, but now I'm convinced that it has some strong points. He's right that we can't learn a new language only by drilling with vocabulary lists and grammars: we must use language in order to learn it. All to say, I'm beginning to establish a personal sense of equilibrium between order and spontaneity.

Then a new wilderness appeared on my horizon. Last night in class, our professor asked us if we were feeling more comfortable with Aramaic. We gave him a tentative "yes." He replied, "Good. Because I'm trying to decide how fast we can go forward from here and when we will start the Targums." In case you're wondering, these other ancient Aramaic documents use a different set of vowel markings. All I know is that the words look like Hebrew letters with little tree branches lying across the top of them.  

Learn Aramaic, Part 2

Now, what I'm about to tell you may seem unlikely and speculative. But I'm convinced that God went ahead of me to support my efforts to learn Aramaic under circumstances which are less than ideal, as I described in Learn Aramaic, Part I. These circumstances are especially difficult for five reasons:

1. No time to prepare. On orientation day, the dean of Old Testament studies strongly advised that I substitute Aramaic class for one of my other classes. Aramaic won't be offered for two more years, and language learning is far better in a class than alone. I had bought books for all my other classes. But I changed my class schedule that very day and ordered books for Aramaic. I had some trouble obtaining the main grammar and did not get my own copy for two weeks!

2. Preparation is usually my secret to success. In this situation, I was unable to prepare for language class in the way I had previously done for Greek and Hebrew. I prefer to start studyng 4-6 weeks before the first class, because graduate language classes are very fast. This leads to my second point.

3. I'm slow and methodical, not quick and intuitive. The teaching approach in our Aramaic course is suitable for quick, intuitive students who can use clues to figure it out as they go. There is no system to learn, just a lot of seemingly random data flowing across our desks. Of course, language is messy, and the more I study the Aramaic language, the messier it looks. My professor is a good man; he has reasons why he is teaching inductively---but inductive methods rarely work for me. This leads to my fourth point.

4. Without a deductive overview, I drown in a sea of information. It's the way I'm designed. I'm orderly and systematic. Occasionally, people have tried to change me, without success. There isn't a class or a curriculum which will cure me of my design, although I may slowly learn to borrow a few skills from my inductive, intuitive friends. But I have an even bigger problem: see my next point.

5. I'm not quite myself right now. The move has temporarily drained my energy and given me an overload of new information to synthesize. I make a lot of silly mistakes. My work takes longer than usual. I forget things. These are all symptoms of cognitive overload. But I don't have the luxury of slowing down or taking it easy until I recover, since I'm entering a rigorous doctoral program.

All of these factors, in combination with the inductive, research-oriented methods of my professor, are ingredients in a recipe for disaster. The situation and my design, taken together, put me at a tremendous disadvantage. Our professor told us to give ourselves a quick overview of the language, translate 19 verses, and take a quiz on the first five verses in in one week. Translation includes everything - parts of speech, verb system, syntax and grammar, new vocabulary, and morphology. That's normally the work of 6-12 months for me.

But I'm not doing this alone. God is with me. He never intended that I should do this work by myself. He is wise and good, and he loves me.

Last November, I was strongly drawn to a particular curriculum at a conference I attended. I picked up Beginning Biblical Aramaic (BBA) by Miles Van Pelt. I cannot explain my purchase, except for an irresistable attraction.  BBA seemed to be surrounded by sparkly lights and to be singing, "Dance with me, My Love." So I did. At that point, I did not expect any school to accept me into a doctoral program, so I had no real practical, justifiable reason for the purchase. Now, on the syllabus for my Aramaic class, BBA is listed at the bottom as an optional resource.

So in the first three weeks, I have read through BBA while translating for the class. In BBA, I find nearly everything I need for an overview of the language. Van Pelt's presentation is clear and systematic. It builds upon Hebrew, which I've already learned. This is absolute perfection.

In fact, while I was waiting for my Aramaic books to arrive in the mail, I could start reading BBA immediately, because I already owned it. I also discovered last week that I had unknowingly purchased key resources in my Logos Bible software academic bundle. With these things in hand, I can find my way through the sea of seemingly random information in our translations. I can make sense of the pieces.

These resources which I already owned were an exact fit for my need in this hour. I can only say with the writer of Psalm 139:

Even before a word is on my tongue,
     behold, O Lord, you know it altogether.
You hem me in, behind and before,
     and lay your hand upon me.
Such knowledge is too wonderful for me. (139:4-6 ESV)

Such foreknown words on my tongue apparently include those in Aramaic, too.  This is only one example of what I've experienced repeatedly over the last month. God has gone ahead of me and already put in place what I need. The sheer saturation of prior provisions is staggering. To explain them all, I would have to write a book.

Learn Aramaic, Part I

In my first semester of this PhD program, I'm taking an Aramaic class. We are using the Inductive Guide to Reading Biblical Aramaic by E. Cook, F.W. Bush, and W.S. Lasor as the primary organizer. This guide is not a formal textbook which lays out the language in organized fashion. Instead, it directs me to look at the first verse in Aramaic, which is Daniel 2:4b. Then it directs me to examine the first word. Next, the guide tells me to look up facts about that word in A Grammar of Biblical Aramaic by Franz Rosenthal (originally written in German, decades ago, now translated into English). Rosenthal's grammar notes are cryptic. For example, grammar note R12 says:

In a number of cases, according to the Masorites, words written (ketiv) in one way are to be read (qere) in another . . . The often expressed a priori assumption that the consonant text (ketiv) represents the more original form of the text is, as far as BA is concerned, a dangerous oversimplification (16).   

"Well," I say to myself, "that would never do. We do not want to over-simplify the language as we learn it!" So I progress to more advanced notes. Grammar note R18 says:

Seeming exceptions to these rules require an explanation. Thus, "judges" in E 7:27 should be read ****(Hebrew word); consequently it cannot be Aramaic but a loan word from the Canaanite-Hebrew family. *** "innocence" must be a legal loan word from the Akkadian, because the original root was dkw. Likewise, **** "he completed" E 6:15 must be an Akkadian loan word if only because the development of the original root (###, Aramaic, ##, ##) has * (20).

This is the method. I look at the words. I look at the notes. I translate the word (if I can). But I do not attempt to read any Akkadian, since I have not learned it.

Unfortunately, the print in the second grammar is small. Sometimes I can't discern the vowel markings, so I must guess, or I must hunt for the specific Aramaic terms in my Bible software. With this inductive method, translating Daniel 2:4b takes two hours. In the first week, our assignment is to briefly overview the entire language (somehow), translate 19 verses from Daniel 2, and take a quiz on anything in the first 5 verses.

I feel a bit like Dorothy in Oz. I'm a long way from home. So I do as much as I can manage, then I make a strong cup of coffee and stare out the window.

This morning, when I look at the vowel pronunciation chart in Rosenthal's grammar, I read this description for pronouncing the Aramaic vowel ayin:

Voiced laryngeal (similar to the sound of incipient vomiting) (11).

I am not making this up. First, what does that even mean? Second, why would I want to become proficient at it? Third, why on earth would any culture develop such a sound and use it often? What is wrong with these people?

Your comments and condolences are welcome.

Step Away

"I am always doing that which I cannot do, in order that I may learn to do it." - Picasso

Bit by bit, we are moving into our new home. Every day, we unpack or clean or construct something. After a week in Pennsylvania, we are still surrounded by boxes, but the shape of a dwelling place is beginning to surface.

As we move in, I'm also trying to become familiar with my surroundings and adapt to a new school and curriculum. It's is a lot to do all at once.

I'm trying to be patient with myself and remember that I'm learning, and that learning is not neat or linear. There are many unexpected developments. My expectations are merely estimates. Learning does not always feel like measurable progress. In fact, my feelings about my new life change from day to day.

Viewing myself as a learner helps me live under grace. This is very important. I'm committed to working hard, but I'm also relying on the grace of God to meet me when I work. So far, I have not performed as well I had hoped, in any area. But I know from experience that this matters less than I think it does. Instead, it's far more important to pace myself as I keep taking another step forward.

When I become overwhelmed or discouraged, I also need to take a break. I need to take a nap or go out for coffee or look at something interesting. I need to step away, physically and mentally. After many years of striving towards goals, I finally understand that I don't need to fix the feeling of being overwhelmed or discouraged. If I can step away and rest, then I will have enough energy to take the next step forward. That single tactic is better than all other solutions which might be applied to "fix" or "cure" my perspective.

Everything that happens to me can be a source of learning, if I let it be. I'm a life-long learner on a path of learning. And learning includes making mistakes, taking longer than I expected, and being concerned about progress. But if I manage my learning stress by stepping away for recovery, this will help me persevere.

Bear Fruit

The fruit of the righteous is a tree of life,

And whoever captures souls is wise.

- Proverbs 11:30

This weekend, we arrived in our new location. September is suddenly breezy, not muggy. Leaves outside our new dining room window curl at the edges with a suggestion of burgundy. An ornate stone church rises above the tree line, two blocks away.

At the nearby Fresh Market, I found my favorite coffee and some Pennsylvania apples. Soon, the apples will grace my grandmother's round table. After a seven-year hiatus,the table has been  pulled from storage at last. Today, I'm applying a layer of Johnson's paste wax with a soft cloth. The warm wood glows like amber in the autumn light, and I have begun to think about Christmas.

Being here is a gift.

A new season begins at the end of our last one. I pray that I will be awake to joy and meaning while I'm in it, even when pressed by the demands of my doctoral program. A heavy workload awaits, which I intend to embrace, but it would be a serious mistake for me to make this season only about work. For the fruit of it should be a changed life, which changes lives, and that means I need to be fully present.

Cross Over

Only those who will risk going too far will find out how far one can possibly go.                                                                                                            - T.S. Eliot

This week, we will cross over from one life into the next. Everything will be shifted, shaken, and scrambled. I'm grateful that we downsized ourselves before coming south seven years ago. At the same time, this move won't be quite like any other we've experienced. It will be a move in stages: we will drive ten hours north to our destination, and then another four hours north to pick up furniture from storage. The dust will barely settle onto our new floors before I start my doctoral program.

Last week, I read my fall syllabi and ordered  25 essential books. The coursework does not look humanly possible. But that's the least of my concerns at the moment. As much as I would like to start reading, I can't, because I'm still studying for the Greek and Hebrew exams which I will take on Monday and Tuesday. Then, we will move out on Wednesday. We will drive ten hours north on Thursday. We will go get some of our furniture from storage on Friday. After all of this, we will have a weekend to settle ourselves before I'm on campus all day on Tuesday.

As I look ahead, our schedule feels brisk and tight. I try not to worry. I try to sleep as long as I can. In my waking hours, I study, pack boxes, and run errands. Now, I find it very funny that I once thought the homeschooling years would be my most demanding. The pace, volume and intensity of my life seem to be increasing in middle age. I never would have guessed that this particular venture could be part of my story. God is merciful, for he only shows me one chapter at the time.

In the last few years, I have learned a truth which is both practical and encouraging. Wherever I go, the sanctuary of God's presence goes with me. When Jesus promised, "I will never leave you or forsake you . . . I am with you," he meant it. He wasn't talking figuratively. That wonderful stillness and peace, that center of calm, where perspective and strength are infused into my weakness and timidity, that place remains, and I can walk into it anywhere like an empty room, and talk to him and find my bearings again. His sanctuary gives me hope that I will endure, I will be steadfast, and I will be whole at the end.

Love

This morning I'm watching the light rise in the sky. The ceiling of the world shifts gradually from midnight navy to deep cerulean to baby blue. The sun catches the clouds one by one and washes them pink. DiMarco’s song, “It is Well,” is playing, and I remember all those nights over the last five years when I walked and sang to myself under the stars, trusting that somehow God’s grace upon grace would be enough to pull me forward. My life felt like a small boat in a storm, far from familiar shores. There were weeks when I could not get my bearings at all. The person I thought I was seemed to have been an illusion – a temporary skin which worked for me in a season and now must be shed. But the agony was that shedding my old skin left me raw and vulnerable. I did not recognize the new person staring back at me in the mirror. I have changed more in the last five years that in any other period of my life.

What transformed me? Most of all, reading the text of the Bible in the original languages. I’m grateful for our English translations, because they give us the basic content and narrative lines. We have the gospel—the good news, and it is life-giving! But encountering the original text was like finally meeting the child one has carried in the womb for nine months. I am deeply altered by a great, consuming love for the child. No one ever explained to me that I might love the text like this and, if I did, it would change my universe.

This educational journey all started with a simple decision: I wanted to love God with all of my mind. In order to do that, I wanted to focus on pursuing a disciplined, systematic study of the scriptures. Once my commitment was launched and it had a location (in a seminary), my life became stressful, complicated, and challenging. Every week, I wondered if I could actually get all the work done. It seemed strange that so many additional requirements could be attached to one simple decision to love. But isn’t that just like bringing a new baby home? At first glance, loving the baby is simple, and then it will never be simple again.

Now, as I look back over these five years, I see love. From this distance, I can see that love pushed my boat forward on stormy waters, far from home, and love inspired me to give my best years to study, and love changed me in the journey. The transformation came because love was directed towards grasping the truth of God, and God was pleased to meet with me and engage me in learning.  

Truth in love was the reason I came here to study. 
Truth in love is the reason why I have changed. 
Truth in love is why I'm moving forward to more learning.  

Here’s the song I used to sing to myself at night: “It is Well,” by Kristene DiMarco.

Rejuvenate

Crunch time has arrived. Exams, moving, and orientation will happen in rapid succession in two weeks. I'm still behind schedule, mostly from being sick for ten days. Although I was taking good care of myself, I caught a summer cold. The good news is that I'm recovering without any complications. There isn't anything wrong with me or with my life. We are merely navigating the ordinary turbulence of moving and entering a new, advanced, academic program. The bad news is that August just became much more challenging. When I think about what must be done, I feel overwhelmed.

Surely you know what I mean. Stressful times come to all of us, and we have to find ways to keep going, ways to stay strong. I have to force myself to focus on the next step. I have to guard myself from the twin dysfunctions of worry and procrastination. On nights when I lie awake for a while, I have to deliberately remember the truth I know. Above all, I have to decide to be grateful. For these needs, I appreciate your prayers for wisdom, endurance, efficiency, and peace.

On a funny note, after ten days indoors, I went on a shopping spree yesterday with a pile of gift cards which I had been saving. For those of you who may recall my aversion for retail activity, this is hilarious. But I had a great time! I lingered over a blonde Strarbucks misto coffee, fresh fruit, granola, and date rolls. I bought needed clothing from three nice stores to refresh my tired wardrobe. I splurged on my favorite coffee beans at The Fresh Market. I got a hair cut which I like better than I have liked any haircut in years. I went out in the morning feeling tired, strained, and discourged. In the afternoon, I returned home energized, smiling, and ready to work. As I said to Chris, "I feel like a princess." A big thank-you goes out to all of you who have given me a gift card over the past year. You were in a fresh breeze in the sails of my little boat. This was more than a little retail therapy: it was a self-care session which will benefit me for weeks.

A month from now, I hope to be settled into my new location with classes and textbooks! Won't that be amazing?

Give Away

This afternoon, Chris returned from the AEJMC 2016 Conference where he presented four papers and won a second place award in his category. I'm very proud of him!

I have not been nearly as productive as my husband. Instead, I have been resting this weekend, because I caught a heavy summer cold. Those three words sound ironic and witty, but they are the best description for what I'm experiencing. I took three naps yesterday.

We are moving closer and closer to our deadlines: several will soon arrive in rapid succession. I'm "behind" in nearly every area, in spite of steady effort. My next strategy is to remove things from my backpack (re: last week's post). No one likes it when I do this, including me.

Tonight I had a very encouraging thought: I can scarcely remember what I have eliminated in the past when I was pressed as I strained towards a goal. But I do recall the thrill of achievement in the end. This is precisely what lies at the heart of simplicity.

For true simplicity is restraint exercised for a purpose. When purpose drives restraint, and purpose is the focus, purpose is remembered. One of my favorite quotes about this is from Winston Churchill:

Why is it that the ship beats the waves when the waves are so many and the ship is one? The reason is that the ship has a purpose.

There is something more I should tell you. When I do this, when I let go of what I wanted to keep, so that I may reach for what God wants, he turns my sacrifices and reluctant restraint into joyous acts.  To give away for God's purpose is to celebrate him above other things.

In exchange for my small pieces of life, I receive overflowing joy and life so great that I cannot hold all of it. I know this. I have proved it, over and over. So let the giving away begin.

Click on the picture to enjoy the worship song, "Heroes," by Amanda Cook.

Travel Light

And what do all the great words come to in the end, but that? I love you -- I am at rest with you -- I have come home.  - Dorothy Sayers

It seems to me lately that our days are fluid, shifting winds in God's hands. Our life passes like a breath before his eternal, unchanging nature. Everywhere I see change, more change than I ever dreamed possible in mid-life. Meanwhile, Chris and I are at home as we go forward, as we change, because wherever we are is home. God is in the center, joining us together, making us a home. Coming to each new place is coming home, because God waits for us there.

Here's another lesson I learned this week: healthy boundaries are crucial for upward change.

By God's design, we cannot do everything and keep everything. This is wisdom and goodness. Choosing is part of growing. A life of choices is a life of growth and blessing in the growth. When we limit ourselves to a finite number of activities, we conserve energy for making upward change happen. This requires humility and an open hand. Instead of grasping, we must release things and opportunities, in order to move toward deeper goals. There will always be a life we didn't live; but if we choose well, our selection of one life over another is a meaningful part of our story. 

In our earthly existence, we have been given a stewardship. Upward change requires energy, effort, time, and discipline. Whatever we spend cannot be spent again. This is our agony and our glory -- the glory of created beings under the sovereign rule of an infinite Creator. In upward change, we must lift ourselves up a mountain of growth, along with all our gear. Hikers and mountain climbers are notoriously rigorous about the weight in their packs. Everyone stumbles along the way, aches from strenuous labor, and wonders if they will finish. Everyone realizes in the end that what brought them to the top was not a matter of gear, but a matter of the heart.

At the same time, no one makes it all the way with a heavy pack.  

The last five years have proved this rule: when struggling to move upward, remove something which is non-essential.  

Travel light in order to travel far.

Wave

We're in the middle of another heat wave. There has been a short break of two days since the last one. That last heat wave gave us 14 days of high temperatures at 99 or above, with dew points in the low 70s. As you might imagine, I have been staying inside where it's cool. Basically, I study Greek and Hebrew and occasionally I watch the heat waving from the pavement. Sometimes I wave back.


In spite of the heat, we ventured out this morning. We drove to McLeod's Farms which is an hour north of us. McLeod's has been a family business for exactly 100 years. They are located right off Hwy 1--an easy, old-fashioned drive from the north or the south. This is our favorite source for tree-ripened peaches. When we move, I will give up this luxury. The best peaches in the whole world are white-flesh varieties which have been left on the tree until the last minute, then picked by hand. They are too tender to ship. But even the other, sturdier varieties are less satisfying when shipped, since they must be picked earlier, before they are fully ripe.

Although I no longer pick the peaches myself (as I did in my childhood), I can poke my nose into the half-bushel box from McLeod's and pretend I'm standing in an orchard for a few minutes. This summer, Sundays are reserved for activities like this which let us relish the South for a few more weeks.

The heat is awful, no doubt. But there are many positive things about our southern life that we will miss.

Stock Up

Moving is an interesting time. With a few years between moves, I forget many of the unique aspects of those months when we pack up and relocate ourselves and our possessions. One of the weird lessons I have learned through several moves is that I will injure myself in odd ways. So I need to stock up on first-aid supplies before I pack the first box. Unfortunately, I forgot my lesson, and now I am relearning it.

After packing 30 boxes, I have experienced my first odd injury of this move. I can't quite figure out what I did to my second finger on my right hand. It's red, swollen, and painful on one side. It's almost like a hangnail but not quite. I'm soaking it in warm water and Dreft, an old standby that seems to help nearly every injury.

I'm still reading and studying and doing most of my normal activities. But I'm not typing much. So this post is short!

Remember, if you're moving, stock up on first-aid supplies before you pack your first box. You'll be glad you did.

Rest

In all of our striving and working, it is important to have times of rest. I hope you find this modern hymn by Keith and Kristyn Getty refreshing, as I have. To listen, just click on the link below:

Still, My Soul Be Still

Worship is an important part of my life. I usually begin my day with worship, and I view my work as an act of worship. In my daily ritual, I have discovered that worship takes me to a place of rest within my soul. Now, I am convinced that I could not even do my work without that place of stillness, where I remember who God is and who I am, as his creature and his redeemed child.

Be still and know that I am God.
I will be exalted among the nations!
I will be exalted in the earth!

Psalm 46:10 ESV

Work

"So what are you doing? Are you doing anything? Do you have any down time?" Lately, people ask me these questions often. So I thought you might like to hear about my work routine.

I must study. In late August, I will take timed, comprehensive exams in Greek and Hebrew.  As a side benefit, these test preparations will sharpen my biblical languages for doctoral proficiency. All my coursework will be done with ancient biblical texts. Eventually, I will also study French, German, and Aramaic, for use in research, so I need to master Greek and Hebrew now.

Language skills are not all I need. I should read a variety of academic books to prepare for my program. In addition, my advisor has already engaged me in a search for a dissertation topic. Although this was a surprise, I have no doubts that he is guiding me wisely, including this early work on a topic. He has been a professor for decades, and he has successfully guided many students through many dissertations. In my planning, I include this dissertation work as part of my language study hours. But I am not doing it every week.

We're also moving. I need to pack a few boxes every day. I need to do other tasks for relocation, like finding a new apartment. There are people to consider, as well. Friends want to visit with me before we leave. Sometimes, they need my help. And I need to rest a little, so that I'm fully refreshed before my next educational adventure.

My current work schedule is a product of my own experiments and advice from friends and family. Here's how I'm working for 5-6 days a week:

•  I arise with the morning light for private worship, reading, and a relaxed coffee time.  
• Next, I dress and eat a healthy breakfast. Many days, I also start supper. For our meals, I let machines do most of the work. I use a crock pot, rice cooker, bread maker, and microwave. 
•  I start work at 8:00 with my study of Hebrew. I call this, "going to the office." I have a sweet little study corner in our apartment in front of a large window overlooking an empty field and some trees. That's my "office." When I am at my office, I work. That's why I'm there. I don't do other stuff. I don't check my email or phone. I work off-line. 
•  After 4 hours, I take a lunch break. I've stopped trying to fill my break time with useful activities, because I've realized that I need a respite. Hebrew study is demanding. I may look at Twitter over lunch, but the healthiest option is step away from my desk.
• After lunch, I go "back to the office." I study Greek for 4 hours.
• At 4:00 I take a nap if I'm tired. I'm awake before 5:00, savoring my last cup of coffee, which is mostly decaf. This is my "slow time."   
• On some afternoons, I visit with friends. To make time for social visits, I shorten or defer part of my language studies, or I begin studying earlier in the morning. 
• I finish making supper while listening to jazz piano. As the supper cooks, I answer email and phone calls or texts. I check Twitter. I choose my evening tasks and a reward.
• Chris and I talk about our day over a home-cooked, nutritious meal between 6:00-7:00. Supper doesn't last long, maybe 20-30 minutes.  
• After supper, I do some chores and packing. I try to finish by 8:00. Then I enjoy my reward. Last night, we watched an episode of Endeavor with some pineapple bread and peach tea. 
• Between 9:30 and 10:30, I follow a bedtime routine and fall asleep. Before drifting off, I read a fun book or write in a journal. I get a total of 7-9 hours of sleep in each 24-hour period. 

My language work is challenging and time-consuming. I have finally accepted this fact and simplified everything else in my life. Each day I need to review vocabulary, verb forms, and grammar and syntax rules. I also need to translate from the text, a task which requires my highest concentration. Then I need to check my translation and learn from my mistakes.

As you might imagine, there are other events which interrupt or shift my learning activities. These are part of normal life. Even so, a basic work pattern sets up a target, and aiming at that target helps me get more done. 

My schedule still needs refining.There are other habits for which I need to set a time. 

• When should I read my preparatory books? So far, I have read 4 books, as my first activity, making notes as I read. But this early reading can delay my start time for Hebrew. 
• What is the best time for exercise? I need 30-60 minutes a day. 
• I need to set aside a half-day for weekly chores. Where should I put it? 

Chime in with your thoughts. Friends and family have helped me develop my new routine. 

The photo shows a rock cairn we encountered on a trail in North Carolina. "Cairn" is a Scottish Gaelic word for a pile of stones arranged by human hands. Throughout the world, since ancient times, cairns have marked trails to identify locations and to direct travelers. 

Sing

The Lord knew I needed a song. Last week, I found "The Voyage" on a new album entitled "Brave New World" by Amanda Cook. Every single time I listen to this song, I feel like the Spirit of God is speaking directly to me.

Some of us are called to do faithful work, deep and long, on the ground where we already stand. Others are called to do faithful work in a number of places, voyaging for God to usher in changes for the future.

I'm learning to be at peace with my calling. But this is a process. I'm often anxious about speaking up and making mistakes, anxious about failing, and anxious about endurance.

Here's the song: The Voyage (click to listen).


The beautiful photo of the Oregon coast was taken by our son Ben in July 2008. 
Copyright, Benjamin Frear 2016. 

Breathe

The first time I moved north, it did not occur to me that I would miss anything. Twenty-five years later, as I prepare to leave the South again, I'm poignantly aware of what I will leave behind---warm autumns, tree-ripened oranges, camellias in February, casual hospitality, old and new friends.

Among the surprising things I will miss are some of the signature scents of the South.  June evenings have been filled with the offerings of magnolia blossoms, opening after long, hot days. To me, they almost taste like lemon meringue pie. Several nights in a row, I lingered near them to savor their cleansing on my palate. Vividly, I remembered my grandmother bringing one into the house and setting it in a large crystal bowl. I remembered her though she were alive, standing before me in flesh and blood.

Last week on an early morning walk, I passed by  a cluster of gardenias in full glory. I had to stop. I could go no further. I stood there and breathed and breathed, as though I might store their perfume in my bones.

This week, I noticed the aroma of a southern thunderstorm, pungent and distinct. I knew rain was coming for an hour before I could see or hear it. From miles away, the summer storm prophesied its coming with a sharp, musty zing. The ground was hot under the sun, then the rain hit hard, and lightning plunged ozone into wind. At last, I was enfolded by feathery freshness filling my lungs and pulling me close to the clouds.

Yesterday, at the Fresh Market, there were peaches for sale from a nearby orchard. I picked up one and inhaled deeply with closed eyes. I could smell peach trees in afternoon breeze and green grass at my feet. Suddenly, everything around me seemed timeless. For many summers, I picked peaches in Georgia orchards. Such memories are knit into the body of a child by repetition, They become inseparable from the person, like eye color, voice, and gait. For the rest of earthly life, these things remain.

Finally, I understand what has been happening. What I need to do most before I leave is to breathe, to take in the air around me. My body and the southern earth are singing together, and I have just recognized their song. Recently, I came across a poem that expresses it well:

And still, after all this time,
The sun never says to the earth,
"You owe me." 

Look what happens with
A love like that,
It lights the Whole Sky. 

                      - Hafiz

Creation sings a hymn of love which the Creator wove into everything he made. I need to listen and breathe.

Read and Play

I spend most of the day working in books. This past year, I discovered a paradox: light reading is a great way for me to end the day well. Hard books inspire me. Easy books relax me. At bedtime, I read easy books that transport me to another place. I read accounts that let me experience other lives. I read stories that make me laugh. I read great literature that fires my imagination and my sense of play.  This is an easy portal to renewal. Even if I only get through a couple of pages before drifting into unconsciousness, playful reading makes a remarkable difference in my sleep quality and attitude the next morning. When I'm working hard, it's easy for me to forget that I need to play. But after five years of grad school, I've learned that I need to be as intentional about rest and play as I am about work.

I've also discovered that my local library offers a steady stream of playful books. On my days off, I like to stop there for my "book shopping." I just finished The True Tails of Baker and Taylor (Jan Louch with Lisa Rogak) which relates the lives of two library cats who became world famous. True Tails reminded me of small towns we have known and their libraries and two of our former cats. Jan tells a touching story of how a new job, which quickly included these two cats, made her feel fully alive again after devastating losses. Now I'm starting a new volume, Travelling to Work, which contains Michael Palin's diaries from 1988-1998, written when he was filming his travel shows. While I was reading his words, I forgot I was lying in my bed in an apartment in Columbia. Instead, I was in Cairo. Then I was aboard the Saudi Moon on the Red Sea. And in a few days, I came to Bombay. His diaries inspire me to dream of publishing my own.

Do you read books for leisure? I'd love to hear about it. In our digital age, we don't talk about our books unless someone asks. Otherwise, we think our reading won't be interesting to other people. This blog is a place where your books are welcome. What books have you enjoyed lately?

Rainy Groove

It will be stormy today. This makes me happy. I concentrate better when it's stormy. I thought this was my secret until I came across a post by Claire Trevien on 7 tips for Boosting Productivity when Working at Home.  

Tip #4 by Claire is to "choose the right soundtrack." She links this idea to a previous post where her #1 suggestion is RAIN. (You read that right.) She suggests the website Rainy Mood.

In grad school, rainy days have been flow days for me, when I do my best work, when I feel happiest, when I think, "This is living!" (Weird, huh? ) Maybe it's because the lower light and the sounds of rain soften my environment so that I have fewer sensory distractions. Maybe it's a leftover from my former gardening days, when I watched for the rain, and rain also meant resting. Grad school changed my type of work, but not my affinity for rain.

I kept my secret happiness to myself, because a lot of people don't like rainy weather.

You can imagine my surprise when I realized that my secret delight is not a secret. Instead, it's a tactic for productivity! It even has a website! Who knows? Maybe there are clubs and support groups for rainy mood workers.

Just for fun, I added my own twist to Claire's rainy mood idea. While writing this post, I've been listening to Rainy Mood and an instrumental music station on Pandora at the same time. I feel enfolded in a wall of soft, white noise. Perfect!

Now I just need a Nespresso machine.  

Step

I'm working to increase my fitness while I study for a PhD. One of my experiments is using a step meter. I was inspired by a colleague who is using a step meter very successfully with impressive results. She made it look easy, but I found that I needed a little persistence. The Fit Bit that she uses for tracking offers more than I need at a higher price than I ought to pay. So I went shopping for a gadget to count my steps. I tried one brand of step meter which did not work well. It counted 44 steps for 2 miles of walking! I returned it for a refund. Then I did some more research and tried this second model from Omron, which is reasonably priced at $18 on Amazon and at Best Buy. The lower cost is probably a result of the simplicity of the gadget. This meter only counts steps or distance, but it also resets itself after midnight, which is very helpful for me. 

My new Omron step meter fits on my hip like a feather. I forget that I'm wearing it! If I prefer, I can use the clip which is designed for it. This gadget is so flat and small that it fits in a small key pocket. Or I can arrange the meter so that it is hidden inside my pocket and only one side of the clip is visible. Unlike the first model, I don't bang it when I move around the apartment, and it doesn’t make a bulky lump under my shirt. The internal design is not a pendulum (like the first model which didn’t count very well), so it doesn’t have to be on my hip to work. I can clip it anywhere convenient and it will count accurately. The meter discerns between aerobic steps and overall steps.  

The greatest danger is that I will forget I’m wearing it, forget to remove it, and run it through the washer!