Weekly Links: September, Stumbling, and more

My weekly round-up of good reading for (what's left of) your weekend.


"September Seasonal Plans": I myself have been falling down in my duty to write about the change from summer to fall (probably because it's still ridiculously hot here and the trees don't look like they're even thinking about dropping their leaves), but you should go over to Shirley's place and read about all the wonderful autumnal things you can now reasonably enjoy.

"When You Stumble and Fall":

On some level, I carry on all week sinning and being awful and hauling the burden of those sins around with me without too much trouble or discomfort. It’s not like I’m always sitting at my kitchen table, stricken and afflicted, because of my selfish unkindness, my bitter unforgiveness of others. But that I carry them around myself presently, doesn’t mean that it will always be so. Jesus is the judge. He is the king. If I don’t give them to him to carry now, I will have to go on carrying them forever, and then the burden will be intolerable, and I will have to tolerate it. 

"Why the Key Character in 'Inside Out' Is the One that Isn't There":

Admittedly, there's something very lonely about Inside Out if you compare its external structure and Riley's journey through her physical world to traditional kids' movies. There's no Donkey from Shrek or Abu from Aladdin or Timon and Pumbaa from The Lion King cheering her up with "Hakuna Matata." This respect for the role of melancholy in the lives of kids is very Pixar, but it's particularly acute here: There are no other Incredibles, there is no EVE, there is no Dug the dog. Riley's allies and boosters in this adventure are not made or met along the way; they are summoned. They are hers — in fact, they are her. 

"I, Tertius":

For my money, the Epistle to the church in Rome–the book of Romans more commonly–is the finest, most important letter in church history. Certainly in the canon. So who wrote this tremendous piece of work? The apostle Paul, right? Actually, no. That’s a bit of a trick question. Paul is the author–it is full of his words and thoughts–but the writer is another chap we only find out about towards the end of the letter ...

"Our Reading Life":

So our reading life is reading for life; reading as the experience of the literary art which focuses and localizes a reality that is apparently too grand and overwhelming for us to give our full attention to with such immediacy. Reading great books is a chance to face reality through the prism of carefully crafted objects of art tested by time and worthy of our attention. We don’t bring fully formed faculties to the task; we open our still-forming eyes and ears to things we hadn’t previously known in their wild form. We learn reality by joining the human community that is already talking about it.

"Kim Davis: the Guts of a Convert":

We are Christians first, before we are Americans. So before we start talking about whether this is a good religious liberty case, or not, before we start distancing our educated selves from her simple faith, and before we take to the internet to show the liberal gestapo that we really are for the “rule of law” and that Kim Davis is a simpleton of a Christian who should have resigned before embarrassing us Christians—let's just step back from this fog and think with a faithful mind.

Links: Mars, screen-time, writing, and more!

I always like (or at least find interesting) all the links I post, but for my money, the best one of this batch is #3 by Shannon Hale. Writing and mothering - she's speaking my language!

"Our Guts May Hate Mars":

Martian colonists could probably live for years on food grown without soil. The question is, could they live on it for decades? Could their children grow up on it? Are there hidden hazards that would not become apparent until much later? To put these questions another way: Can we identify and reproduce the ecosystem services of Earth for a lifetime?

"How to Semi-Unplug":

I'm not going to "kill my TV," as the bumper sticker suggests, and I'm not going to quit screen time cold turkey. I don't even think that would even automatically solve the problem: I recently heard about a fellow who gave up the internet for a year, and he reports that his bad habits were very adaptable. When he stopped wasting time online, he just started wasting it other ways.

But I also know that something has to be done! We can fool ourselves that lots of screen time is no big deal, but we all know that it is.

"Writing and mother: how I (sort of) do both":

One of the most common questions I get: How do you find time to write and be a mother? I've written twice about this, when I had one kid and again when I had two. I reread what I wrote there and find everything is still relevant. But I want to add, because now I have four small children, ages 2 1/2 - 9, and life is very tricky. Even if I wasn't a writer and didn't work outside the home, having two school-aged kids and two toddlers makes for a tricky, tricky day. So how do I manage to do both?

"This summer, exult in monotony":

Perhaps summer is the perfect time to bring life back into a rhythm where we hear the cadence of His voice. Children do thrive in a home where rhythms are strong and consistent. They really love repetition. I think it is the grown-ups who mess it all up.

winter

Today I was reading A Mother's Rule of Life by Holly Pierlot (review coming to this site as soon as I can finish reading it!), and came across this paragraph:

"According to the seasons, I was occupied with a great many types of tasks. Spring was planting and cleaning out the house and washing all the bedding and curtains and hanging them out to dry in the fresh spring air. Summer was weeding and beach time and picnics with the kids. Autumn was harvesting and preserving and bundling up the house in preparation for winter. Winter was indoor home improvements and decorating and sewing."

Now, I like this whole book (just to whet your appetite, it's a book that feels like it's laying out for me in a beautiful pattern a lot of disparate ideas I've been trying to piece together for myself for a long time - one of those books), but this paragraph struck me in particular because it's been shivery-cold here (in sunny SoCal!) and I've avoided going outside because of the weather, and all of that has had me staring 'round at our walls and contemplating things like curtains. I'd even gotten out lengths of fabric and my husband's staple gun (what can I say? I'm no seamstress), and let them lay on the windowsill for a few days. So the idea that the urge to stay inside and decorate our hibernation chamber might be a natural, good thing was appealing. That some things are better done in winter, some in summer . . . well, that seems too to jive with the whole idea of rhythm that intrigues me so whenever I consider the church year.

The really funny thing? That after reading that, and beginning to feel less discouraged about the fact that I've been acting like a growly bear, I spent the afternoon outside with the kids, pulling weeds, watering plants, and giving Gamgee horsey rides.

As if it were already spring.


peace of Christ to you,
Jessica