Title for a Memoire - A Meme

The lovely Deanna has tagged me for a little challenge that goes as follows:

1. Write the title to your own memoir using six words.
2. Post it on your blog.
3. Link to the person who tagged you.
4. Tag five more blogs.

This is tough. I have given it spurts of thought over the last week. It is daunting, one, because I have never really given it thought, but two, because I am still so young - what will define this little life?

Here is my best attempt:

Forty Acres in Zion: Sojourning Home

Others who I imagine might enjoy this and do it more justice, are Summer, Valerie, Sarah, Emery Jo, and Flo.

the poor are always with you

Criticize idea that we are somehow called to end poverty. It is not possible...perhaps along the lines of what Jesus meant by "the poor are always with you"

Jesus wasn't in the business of ending poverty, but of telling people of the kingdom to come.

Paul went out to preach the gospel, not feed the poor.


continuing to examine poverty and what our call is to give to them.

the poor are always with you.

pearls before swine.

whoever is hungry, thirsty, naked etc.

orphans and widows.

Random updates

I am beginning to suspect that men truly never grow up - or perhaps that they know something about being grown-up that I have yet to figure out. My husband (who is 40 in less than 2 months), his best friend (who is more than 40) his son, and another married man, went on an adventure in a different town (I need not say where, it will suffice to say that had I made a trip to this town, it would have involved coffee dates with many friends at a little shop where I met my husband 5 years ago). They spent only a few short hours in this town, and only in the very middle of the night as they were excavating ponds on a certain golf course to bring home 1000+ sunken and forgotten golf balls. This, of course, led to a slumber party at his best friend's house from which he has yet to return to me.

I, in my free evening, caught up the laundry, made yogurt, bathed our very bath-neglected children, cleaned the bedroom, finished a couple posts I had left unpublished, tended a wet bed, woke up to another (still trying to figure out cloth diapers overnight), delivered some milk, attended a grand opening for a farmers market:


where Søren received this:


And Elliot was the spoon man on the corner:



Which is better than when he was recently a dress model for me as I was working on a birthday gift for this lovely little lady.




I hope we might get to see a picture of dear Kate in these stripes sometime soon.

Then we came home from market to paint the first of my promised "commissioned" pieces from the 200th post contest. Heather, your package will be departing first, and here is your only sneak peek:

Søren is at work now on some of his contributions:


Summer, your photo will be next! But in the mean time, these are for you:



Muah ha ha...I am feeling particularly feisty today (summer is terribly afraid of spiders, even colored rubber ones).

Now...well, we're off to "uncle Kraig's" to find Daddy and get sucked into all their adventures!

What is Poverty?

In my younger, youthful-lusts-days of thinking that I, along with my generation, could truly change the world, I used to be very concerned with the homeless.

I remember a 17-year old version of myself (with much the same hair cut...hmm) walking downtown Seattle one day to find "Ye Olde Curiosity Shop" down by the piers on some sort of adventure with friends (perhaps it was senior skip day?). As we walked under one of the side highways that runs along the water I saw a bum sleeping in his bag in the middle of the day. As I roamed the curiosity shop, purchasing only a small nickel with a cross cut out of the middle (I can no longer remember where that is, but it was on my key chain for years), the whole time my thoughts kept flitting back to the sleeping man in his little alley nook. I had a small sum of baby-sitting money in my pocket ($30) and I knew that I could buy my little nickel, have money for lunch, and secretly leave the bum $20 for when he awoke. I hoped that such a large sum might brighten his day and bring him hope. I debated among myself about this as we walked back, deciding that I would enjoy doing it, only to find that he had packed up and left by the time we made it back.

Fast forward to my first freshman year of college at SPU. They have an "immersion" project of sorts where you go out in teams and spend a weekend "homeless" with $3 a day to work with. I desperately wanted to do this, to connect with the homeless on such a sincere level, to experience a part of what they experience and to be able to minister from "even" ground. Of course, my mother, in good worried-to-death-about-her-eldest-18-year-old-baby-being-at-college fashion, absolutely vetoed the idea.

I did however spend a great deal of time driving around Seattle, and driving back home on the weekends across the water to see my family and go to church. This put me on many a shared corner with many a homeless beggar. One particular young guy was often at the corner where I waited to turn onto the main drag that led to my freeway on-ramp home. As a member of the plastic generation, I rarely carried cash (and still don't), but I did often have food in the car (hmm...and still do). I offered him a full sleeve of wholesome bagels, after all, his sign read "hungry. anything helps." He made a face and declined informing me that he did not like bagels. This started my disillusionment at the young "hungry" on the street corners.

Fast forward through quitting SPU, getting in and out of a mess with the high school sweetheart, and moving to Portland with my former college roommate who also quit SPU after the first year (so many reasons to do so, but that is a post perhaps for another day). Naturally I still find myself drawn to atypical ministries in 24-hour coffee shops. I find my gifts of compassion most fitted for the people least likely to find themselves in a church on Sunday or Wednesday night. I find myself surrounded by a good number of homeless kids, and swing-shift workers. Most of the kids were homeless by choice, but none-the-less homeless. These experiences continued to raise my suspicions about a lot of the homelessness I found on street corners. To compound matters, beggars in Portland often didn't even bother with signs about being a vet, or about families and hunger. I found many there that simply read: "need beer. at least I'm honest." and strangely, it seemed more people stopped to give!

I became suspicious that the truely homeless were the men who did not beg as the pushed their carts down the alleys between main roads, poking through trash cans. The people who needed my money the most were the people who probably would not ask me for it. I continued giving sometimes, when I had change. I found myself planning to carry a few dollars so that I could give, or buy the "street roots" paper, if asked. "Street roots" seemed like a good idea, and actually provided experience, creative outlet, and paid work for homeless men and women. At the same time I knew that the few dollars I spent a week on homeless charity was more for my conscience than to help anyone. Mainly, I committed myself to not averting my gaze at the corner, but rather smiling and making conversation. Driving my sputtering Ford Probe up to the corner did not make the beggars look eagerly for cash anyhow. I found a friendly smile and real human engagement were often and appreciated surprise. I still had no idea how to decipher between a con, addicts, and people who would be blessed by what I might have to give. For that matter I am still terrible at recognizing people who are on drugs just by looking at them, my husband and sisters always see it. Perhaps do to the fact that this is one area in life I am actually innocent I am also ignorant. It left me all the more defenseless to know where the money will go.

Time passed and my homeless encounters remained much the same.

Quite recently I watched a video titled "What is Poverty?" over at On The Margins. It is fairly short, and well worth the watch. It made me cry at it's conclusion. Such an obvious conclusion once you hear it. Poverty is lack of friends. I have the blessing of several very rich friendships, and many many people who care for me and my family. Realizing that those meaningful relationships are really what the man on the street lacks hurt my heart.

That is what makes SPU's well-intentioned immersion into homelessness so unreal. Sleeping on the street for 3-days is not homelessness because I - and all the actual homeless people - know I could change my circumstances in a matter of minutes. I could enact this change because I have the aforementioned significant relationships in my life.

Now, I know that many homeless-friendless people have fled their relationships for any number of possibly bad/unwise/foolish reasons, but there they are. The profound thing about concluding that ending poverty could be done by befriending the poor, is that it also answers my confusion about how to know where my gifts are going. If I actually took the time to get to know just one of the poor people or families in my community, then I would know what their real needs are, what their real resources are, and could also serve as accountability and additional resource for them with whatever they do have. If I get to know the homeless, then I will know whether they are addicts or not. I will know if they are runaways with legit reasons or not. It solves my dilemma. While deciding to know one poor man, or one poor family does not seem like much to help end the poverty crises, if we all shifted into this kind of attitude, imagine the real difference it could make.

I think eye contact and a smile are still a good first step, but we all need a bit more of that.

200th Post Winner...

Given that there were only two participants, we have voted it as a tie. Heather and Summer can both look forward to a collection of treasures arriving in the next 2 weeks.

Heather's Entry is at the bottom of this post.

Summer's can be found right here.

Thanks to you both being willing to play!

A Hope for Resurrection

To love through pain and blink back tears.

To ache at a death that yet breathes to mock your mourning.

To feel your own self tear slowly in two and wonder why this death refuses to kill you.

To scream out, "'Til death," and yet it is not that death.

Dying and crying and calling out to God,

"Do us part? Do us?"

Crying and calling and asking if God still raises the dead.

Calling, "Rise up! Rise up! Live again."

Reminder

The 200th post contest deadline is May 15th. It would be a disappointing victory for Heather to win solely by default! Write something fun! Do it now.

Pacifism: Examining Common Objections

Dustin has already posted on this topic addressing "What about Hitler" and "What if someone is attacking your wife/daughter". His post is a very respectable non-violent answer of alternatives.

The alternatives he presents are very compelling. The church so often forget all the resources available to them, and defaults instead to the conflict solutions offered by the images that bombard the senses from the surrounding culture (e.g. movies, news, video games) rather than examining conflict solutions that are offered from the new testament and other creatively non-violent actions throughout history.

Often the non-violent actions that do make media are of the extremist kind, and not really in line with peace-making (i.e. peace-making on all levels, emotional, spiritual, mental and physical). One sees or hears news of "peace" rallies where naked college students are marching around wearing head masks leaving a trampled trail of destruction, or of people who are creating a chaos of mental noise that only leaves the viewer confused about what the protesters are trying to communicate. The media does not report about the conflict that would-have-been had it not been for the wise and crafty peacemaker who diffused it. Video games to not beg the controller to emulate the men of history who were successful at non-violent conflicts (Ghandi, MLK Jr.). Quite frankly, most humans are rarely willing to sacrifice what that position requires (i.e. their lives).

If men were better educated, and their minds sharpened to find creative and peacemaking problem solutions from a young age, they might be better "armed" to take on the task of peaceful conflict resolution. There ought to be board games where the goal of a conflict is to find a satisfying solution for all parties in all circumstances rather than board games where the goal is to eliminate or bankrupt all other parties leaving only one's self, or ones team (country?) as the winner.

While there can be no utopia during this age (though one is coming, where Jesus will finally be king, and utopia will finally arrive), it remains important, as a follower of that current (He is risen!) King, to strive to live as citizen's of His country.

A Real Objection

The most significant objection to pacifism, one highlighted by a comment on the first post in this conversation, is what about when those alternatives fail? What about when the church refuses to use her gifts, education, and resources ("For where two or three have gathered in My name, I will be in their midst" (Matt 18:20) is a reassuring promise)? What about when all men who could act, have fled responsibility because getting involved in either side is simple not respectable (taken from a quote I will share shortly)? What about the fact that man truly is a sinner?

What about if a man has tried standing in the way, and tried squawking like a chicken, and tried barking like a dog, and tried offering himself - perhaps has offered himself, and yet the wife or child STILL is dangerously prey? Will that man, who has come to the end of himself, entrust the wife to God, and trust God to enact vengeance how and when He will - even if the man himself never sees it? Or will the man try to physically restrain the attacker (while surely still waiting for additional creative insights). Truly it has been argued that these kinds of arguments are ridiculous because the odds of being in such a position are less likely than say, having a change of being pregnant even though every test declares negative for 2 months (who could be so silly).

This is true, it is unlikely. Additionally, far too often, Jesus' own modern followers fail to even attempt the creative peacemaking conflict resolutions and jump straight away to the non-peacemaking solutions that are the prevalent stock options presented from every other voice in the surrounding culture.

What the above sort of "what if" arguments are truly after is the question of "for how long?" and "are you serious?" and "isn't there a line somewhere?"

Someone just recently shared a quote by Eberhard Bethge describing how Bonhoeffer felt "The sin of respectable people reveals itself in flight from responsibility" and that was what finally motivated him to participate in the assassination plot against Hitler. This plot, as Dustin points out, failed and potentially made the situation worse for the Jewish people, gypsies and other marginalized people targeted by Hitler's wickedness. After which, Bonhoeffer regretted his participation, and perhaps would have regretted it even if it were successful.

What does one conscious stricken person do in the face of horrendous evil? There have been many massacre's since Hitler. Watch Hotel Rawanda. There are likely massacre's happening now. What does one do? Pray certainly and corporately, "Again I say to you, that if two of you agree on earth about anything that they may ask, it shall be done for them by My Father who is in heaven." (Matt 18:19). Then what? When a collective body of believers fails to rise up to object to the inhuman injustices happening to women and people all over China, not to mention the middle east, not to mention who knows how many other locations in our own communities, why would a man not feel that at least in an organized army, where men have agreed to lay down their lives, and a man can hope that his army is at least attempting to work towards justice. This seems very honorable.

How very difficult for a sinful man to choose anything higher. How very difficult for a man to choose the road outside the gate, choose by so very few and who have all died unnatural deaths. Those men, undoubtedly were specifically beckoned by their God for such a thing. Undoubtedly, some men are also beckoned by God to serve within the armies, still accomplishing His own secret purposes in the lives of those on either side of the conflicts that man engages with. Other men, undoubtedly, are beckoned to ignore the world's conflicts, having enough trouble to mind in each day of his own as he seeks to make peace in his own household, making disciples of his own children.

Ultimately, if each man, in whatever position he finds himself regarding pacifism, does consider himself called to be a peacemaker, as defined by having a heart that is striving to act in love without partiality towards all men, knowing that there is only One judge of men's hearts, and only One just giver of retribution, then all of those men's paths will likely spiral in on one another more closely looking like the life of The Man, who did choose non-violent action by submitting to a cross He did not deserve for the sake of giving a few eyes to see a Kingdom where this entire discussion will become irrelevant.

Welcome Tabitha!

Jonathan and Heather welcomed Tabitha, a little beauty, into the world May 7, 2008 at 5:34 PM, weighing 6 lbs, 3 oz, and measuring 19 inches long!

This is the forth baby born to members of my graduating class (two of them, obviously, being mine), and I am not surprised that the two little girls (Tabitha and Ayla) feel a little bit like nieces, as my classmates still feel a bit like siblings. I do hope that I will be able to see them often enough to qualify as an auntie.

Making Home

I have found my role as homemaker so satisfying as of late. This is not always the case.

Do you know the feeling of being at work in your kitchen, when the lovely slanted light of the evening is fading, and you enjoy it so much you don't realize how dark it has gotten until your husband comes in and turns on the lights? (This happens to me A LOT)

This happened to me on a personal level about a month ago (with my in-praise-of-the-Fly-Lady post) as I suddenly found myself nearly effortlessly keeping house, tackling craft projects, taking time for myself, busy about my cooking projects, and spending more time enjoying my children. The Fly Lady is not that cool. I think what I realized as "the light came on" for me again, is that I may have been struggling through a little PPD (post partum depression) without realizing it. Of course, sharing this with my mother and my husband and receiving looks and tones of "You didn't know that?" only solidified my suspicions.

Good to know for next time I suppose!

On this side of having myself back, I am loving the gift it is to be a full-time homemaker. What I especially have enjoyed during the last month is watching progress, not perfection, take place around my home. Here are some photos of things that have been making me smile...

Watching this...

...become this...

...become this.

And now, as I work on the sleeves, being able to imagine this on dear little Sabine while I hope to meet her in just 10 days.

Of course, I have to throw these little helpers in somewhere. They delight me to no end. I have been thinking of a post of all Elliot's nicknames...but perhaps that is better saved for his baby book!

Seeing things like this fill my counters (specifically, real homemade sourdough bread rising, fil mjulk culturing, and the next sourdough starter working for next week's loaves)

My first loaves!

Rising...

...entering the oven...

...and exiting the oven to join my own homemade creme fraiche culture, tomorrow's oats soaking, and freshly made, deep yellow, raw butter (not pictured) in it's bell awaiting tomorrow mornings feast.

All of that in a house that is actually being maintained makes my soul feel full (though I am still a little confused about who this woman is who has taken over my body...all I know thus far is that she's a tad pudgy around the middle, but I like her, and my kids seem to as well).

A Conclusion of Sorts

I finally did some tallying today and realized that if the spoon was accurate, I would be about 15 weeks pregnant...that would be undeniably pregnant. I would be showing, not just maternal stores, but hard, pregnant, bump showing. I am definitely not showing in that sense.

You might ask why I could not figure that out before now, but after Andrew's dislocated shoulder, the business and milk stresses, and then the last week of horrible illness ending in a ER trip with a diagnosis of ulcerative colitis for my hubby (who now swears he's ready to change his junk food addictions), well...the pregnancy concerns took a back seat, and I just kept thinking it would all work out in time, and I think it has.

So...actually, this is a bit relieving, as we were actually kind of lamenting our foolishness in having more children this fast. We wanted a larger spacing. I wanted 4 boys and no girls (Ha! Now I am sure I have jinxed myself). I wanted more time to devote to Elliot as my baby. I want another shot at a VBAC, but this spacing would not have allowed for it (and doubly so with twins). Quite frankly, I didn't really want twins either. They scare me, not to mention that everyone I know who is a twin seemed really UN-excited about the possibility.

Unfortunately, to heed all the medical advice I have been given, to have all of my symptoms and not be pregnant *could* signify something else, and I *should* really have been seen by a doctor by now. I think we will actually have some health insurance soon, so hopefully I will do that if I need to.

I do find it very strange that the spoon up and decided to start rocking the same weekend I decided to wonder if I was pregnant and display all symptoms to the positive (except of course, the hormones on the tests). So....what other kind of things create magnetic fields in the body? I could easily chalk some of the symptoms up to stress (as we have been under A LOT), but the spoon? Allow me to remind you that I am not the only one who has wielded it on myself. It's moving for everyone who tries it, and yet not moving on anyone else who isn't pregnant. Very strange.

I find it highly doubtful that there are babies who just are not growing properly. I also find it hard to believe that there is anything wrong with me (like cancer or a tumor or parasites or something) because I really feel very good and healthy. Can you imagine though, how cool and inexpensive it would be for the medical world if they could use a spoon to detect early tumors?

Anyhow, I wanted to let the blog world know that I am now feeling rather sure that we are not expecting - and frankly, I am quite happy about it.

Pacifism: The Individual Peacemaker

Dustin has posted his thoughts on the implications of pacifism for the individual yesterday morning. I especially appreciated his perspectives on pro-actively finding ways to prevent violence from happening in our communities.
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Personal Notes

One, I realized as I sat down to write today that I have spent a great deal more time thinking about this pacifism question than I have praying for wisdom concerning it. That, I think, is in part because I still do not feel I know how to pray, nor that I really understand what it is (anyone interested in having a blog-conversation about prayer with me?). Then also in part because I trust that God hears the desires of my heart and the "without ceasing" awareness I try to have that He is present and listening to my thoughts. That said, I reserve the right to change my mind about all of this tomorrow, if God should so re-direct my heart (though, to be honest, I am working it out even as I type, so I don't yet know what those conclusions might be! My apologies if this is jumbled.)

Two, My husband and I have been reading through The Chronicles of Narnia together in the evening (we are reading through chronologically by Narnian time). We have just started "The Voyage of the Dawn Treader." In last nights reading I read the following, and it made me laugh in light of the conversation we have been having regarding pacifism:

First, a little context: There is a non-Narnian boy, Eustace, who finds himself aboard King Caspian's ship, The Dawn Treader, and is not happy about it. He especially dislikes the talking Mouse, Reepicheep. In this scene he finds himself under the mouse, who is sitting on a deck above with his tail hanging down. The following ensues.

Anyway, as soon as he saw that long tail hanging down - and perhaps it was rather tempting - he thought it would be delightful to catch hold of it, swing Reepicheep round by it once or twice upside-down, then run away and laugh, At first the plan seemed to work beautifully. The Mouse was not much heavier than a very large cat. Eustace had him off the rail in a trice and very silly he looked (thought Eustace) with his little limbs all splayed out and his mouth open. But unfortunately Reepicheep, who had fought for his life many a time, never lost his head even for a moment. Nor his skill. It is not very easy to draw one's sword when one is swinging round in the air by one's tail, but he did. And the next thing Eustace knew was two agonizing jabs in his hand which made him let go of the tail; and the next thing after that was that the Mouse had picked itself up again as if it were a ball bouncing off the deck, and there it was facing him, and a horrid long, bright, sharp thing like a skewer was waving to and fro within an inch of his stomach. (This doesn't count as below the belt for mice in Narnia because they can hardly be expected to reach higher.)

"Stop it," spluttered Eustace, "go away. Put that thing away. It's not safe. Stop it, I say. I'll tell Caspian. I'll have you muzzled and tied up."

"Why do you not draw your own sword, poltroon!" cheeped the Mouse. "Draw and fight or I'll beat you black and blue with the flat."

"I haven't got one," said Eustace. "I'm a pacifist. I don't believe in fighting."

I share this as an example of what a peacemaker/pacifist is NOT. Eustace is belittling, aggressive, condescending, and then cowardly retreats to a position of non-violence. I think this example is akin to Dustin's example about aggressive drivers. Being committed to acting as a peacemaker involves all sorts of refrained behaviors and is revealed by the intentions of the heart behind one's actions.

The Intentions of the Heart

If the point of a call to be a peacemaker is rooted in one's heart, then there are all kinds of examples of how one can "non-violently" (in a strictly physical sense) react to someone, while the thrust of their action comes from a position of hatred and revenge and actually stokes the coals for conflict that already underlie many of our interactions with one another as sinners.

It seems the call of a peacemaker is to treat every person with love and respect and to trust God to work out all vengeance as He sees fit with regard to those who have created conflict in our lives, great or small. It is never my place to enact justice. The Just One can be trusted to do so in His time, and with the proper posture toward the wrong-doer.

Pain As An Instructor

A call to non-violent behavior towards other human beings in individual interaction seems easy to accept. For example, if someone would have happened to meet one of the men who were planning to fly a plane into the World Trade buildings a few days before it happened, and they somehow knew this, our own laws would call any individually given punishment of this person a crime. Individually, we are not to take on the status of punisher with others.

Are there relationships where this is not the case? For example, one's young children. A parent is called to instruct and discipline their children for their benefit. A parent has a unique authority over their children (not to be abused - parents will be held accountable for such a precious position in a child's life) that does not exist in any other human relationship (not even as a parent to an adult child). Is this an exception?

Is a spanking qualitatively different than a time-out or a removed privilege?

A Tangent of Personal History

I was actually never spanked as a child. Talking to me was all it took. I repented. I reformed. I was highly sensitive to displeasing my mother (still working on that). My sisters, on the other hand, were a different story, but so were our life circumstances at that time. I cannot say whether my mom really examined us girls and determined that they needed spanking because of something different in their personalities, or if life was just too stressful to have the conversations and invent other creative solutions to discipline.

Back to the Question at Hand

It seems everything hangs, once more, on the heart attitude. If any action directed at one's children comes from anger, retaliation, manipulation, or a need to control or humiliate, etc, it is a major problem (I wish I could claim I was completely free from ever doing any of this, but I am not. I do hope that I am quick to apologize, and I am working on getting my own life in order enough not to come to those stressed out positions). Sometimes it seems that parents who are committed to not spanking end up in truly immature manipulation battles with their toddlers and school-age children (ask anyone who has been a nanny in Germany) and still fail to demonstrate the life of a peacemaker in their home.

A better alternative, it seems, is to have firm boundaries, calmly enforced and a quick wit to find the most fitted consequence for the situation. If this were a conversation about parenting, this would be the place to emphasize consistency and follow-through, as for most children, a spanking is rarely needed if the child has already learned that you truly will do what you claim, and that you will address every thing that needs to be addressed. Of course, most children also periodically decide to wage a coop on their parents authority to make sure they are worthy leaders, defying them with gusto to see what they can withstand before losing their cool.

In our house, Soren gets spanked when he does something intentionally mean and hurtful to someone, or is deliberately defiant in a spiteful way. We are not hitting to teach him not to hit, but rather giving him a cause for pause with pain, to make a stronger memory of the fact that it is unacceptable for him to disrespect another in the way he has. I hope the distinction I am making is clear. A spanking delivered properly, is not a surprise, and is not angry. Him coming up behind Elliot with a drumstick and thumping him in the head when he knows this is unacceptable behavior is carelessly, haughtily aggressive and cruel (we're beyond the "science experiment" part of such behavior). My spanking him is no where near the same, and I do not think any part of him is confused about the difference. HOWEVER, hauling off and smacking him in the rear as some kind of Pavlovian-immediate-correlation probably is.

I suppose I have elaborated on this so much for two reasons, one, to help myself work it out, and two, because I think this illustrates the heart of the pacifism issue for me. Namely, it is so sticky. I truly think it is wrapped up in one's heart attitude. I know that spanking can be done (and frankly, has been done even by my own hand) wrongly, but I also know it can be done rightly. It depends on the heart of the spanker.

This gives me pause to wonder about other human relationships. I may be convinced that retaliation and vengeance are never right for me to dole out, even when I am treated unjustly because I am asked to leave that to God, but what about relationships where it is uniquely one's place to be the bearer of the sword (like in parenting)? Is a government wrong to enforce a death penalty - done correctly (if there is such a thing)?

Closing Thoughts

I need to stop for tonight, though I am not sure I have finished my thoughts.

As I have been reading the Narnia stories and reflecting on all the battles between good and evil, I have wondered that I do not have a problem with the evil side being eradicated. I think this is because in Narnia, or in The Lord of the Rings, good and evil are so oversimplified. Unfortunately, Lewis and Tolkien do not do as much justice to writing human characters as say, Tolstoy or Dostoevsky.

I have yet to meet someone so evil the potential for good is lost in them. But, what about those cases of truly heinous evil. Is it possible for a man to have so erased the "image of God" if you will, in himself that it is no longer a crime for another man to finish the job of erasing the rest of his image (I am, of course, thinking of the Hitler and Pharaoh-esque characters).

My instinct is to say no, even Hitler could have been saved up to the last moments (I mean, look at the life of Paul as Saul, was he really any different than Hitler?), but still. Is there not a responsibility to all the other human lives being horrendously obliterated? Where does that priority scale weigh in. I think I can sympathize with Bonhoffer's dilemma. This we shall save for next week, if I have not already answered my question.

Ancora Imparo 200th Post Contest!

Several blogging friends have posted contests from time to time to celebrate blog-milestones, or just to have fun. I have yet to join in this tradition, mainly because I have not had much to use to entice anyone for giveaway, but, I figure I will find a way to creatively do something for this, my 200th post. I am grateful for the space blogging has given me to practice writing and thinking again. So, to say thank you to the blog world, I announce the following contest.

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The Ancora Imparo 200th Post Contest!

Post a photo and a short writing piece that somehow creatively captures the photo (whether it be a historic depiction, poetic emotional depiction, reflective musings, a creative short story that takes place within its setting, etc). Basically, write anything creative (creative non-fiction included) that is somehow inspired by the photo.

Then, my husband and I will pick a favorite, and that person will be mailed a goody box (details to be decided - but it will be enjoyable and probably involve various crafty things from the whole Scrivner family, and perhaps other treasures bound to delight other lovers of life).

There is also a bonus for all participants. I don't like having contests where one person wins and everyone else looses. So, for everyone who participates, I will consider myself "commissioned" to paint a *glorious* Crayola watercolor rendition of their photo. I will try to do one each week. I will post a picture of the painting here on my blog, as well as mail you the original!

Okay, sound fun? This is bound to keep us all creatively on our toes. Get to work, all submissions must be posted by May 15th. Please place a comment here to let me know if you have participated! I will also do a post of all the links to the post of everyone who has participated so that we can all enjoy each other's talents.

For any of you who would like to participate, but do not have your own blog, please email me, mariannescrivner (at) gmail (dot) com, the photo and piece and I will post it for you here, and consider you entered in the contest.