Author Archives: Amy Jane

How to Pray for People You Don’t Know

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I was praying for my daughter-in-law’s parents last night. Then I realized, as my son is only nine-months old, she may not even be born yet.

We’re slogging through our sleep-depriving dues of correcting some “accidental-parenting” mistakes that result in frequent night-waking.

I was praying my daughter-in-law was a better sleeper for her parents than my son is for me just now.

~~~

The idea for this type of prayer is to take the specific substance of your own need(s) and reflect them into the situation of another person who has those same needs. It is a terrific way to get your mind beyond your own problems, and a good way to remember “those who are mistreated as if you yourselves were suffering.” (Hebrew 13:3)

On the first International Day of Prayer for the Persecuted Church our pastor encouraged us to imagine a Believer in our exact place in life, in one of the countries we’d been learning about, and pray specifically for that individual’s needs, knowing our own.

I’ve used this exercise many times since; in the context I mentioned at the beginning (family-members I haven’t yet met), and for fellow beleivers I am called to uphold in prayer.

I find (among other things) that it allows my prayers are more frequent and purposeful.

More ideas at Rocks in my Dryer.

A Storytelling Carnival: Tuesday Tales

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I’m working at starting a weekly storytelling carnival, Tuesday Tales: Beyond Cinderella and Rumpelstiltskin.

The purpose is to summarize a lesser-known story to the length of a blog post, in order to introduce others to stories that we love, and train ourselves to maximize the efficiency of our language.

Literary tales (Anderson, Picard) are fine, as long as they’re fully attributed. These are only summaries, remember, not full-text copies, so we’re not going to violate copyright or anything; It’ll be more like a review.

~~~

I’ve begun what I hope to be a regular Tuesday Tales series (there’s one up already for this week, which is what gave me the idea).

To be included in my next edition, email me a link to your story at the address on my contact page by Monday evening.

I’m excited at the chance to meet new stories and tellers. Anyone else game?

Raven and the Whale’s Burning Heart

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Raven was drowning in the open ocean and a whale took him in.

Once inside, Raven saw a young woman by the light of a seal oil lamp. The girl bid him welcome, but warned him not to touch the burning lamp. She came and went frequently from the place, and Raven, feeling curious, disregarded her warning.

He bumped the lamp in his clumsiness, causing it to go out. The young woman, just returning, fell in a dead faint as the inside of the whale went black, and bloody.

The lamp had been the whale’s heart, and the girl its soul, going out and returning with the great creature’s every breath.

When Raven finally managed to escape from the huge animal’s carcass, he transformed himself into a man and told the approaching people he was a great hunter.

“I killed the whale, I killed the whale!” he crowed, rather than saying,

“I meddled with something too great and precious for me to understand and destroyed it.”

“Trickster” Tales

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I have never liked the trickster genre of folktales. Stories that center around characters like Yogbo the Glutton, Coyote, Raven, Brer Rabbit and the like (they exist in every culture).

They are, in general, shallow, Machiavellian, and utterly self-centered individuals.

They serve an important cultural role, especially among oppressed peoples, as they show the “little guy” triumphing over the abusing powers. But they also show a self-serving disregard for authority as an end in itself, as a form of entertainment.

Their attitude is that being oppressed automatically gives one the license to behave as s/he wishes, no matter who that may hurt. None of this “rising above” stuff.

One’s desire for pleasure or amusement is reason enough for any choices made.

This is on my mind just now because I just finished watching Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man’s Chest. Jack is your classic trickster character: the good he does is calculated to be in his favor, and good or bad he plays everything off as charming.

Does it well, too. Makes me very uncomfortable to watch.

A traditional tale about Raven summarizes the essence of tricksters for me, and the heart of my dislike for them.

Motivation

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Saturday we had our first, long-anticipated, Third-Saturday women’s meeting. We’ve had random events and get-togethers, but now we’re trying to have a regular, monthly, meeting.

While there, Lynn, one of our quiet “older” mothers shared a beautiful memory from her childhood.

Every day, a little before her father would be home, her mother stopped whatever she was doing to prepare for his arrival. She would put on a clean dress, tidy her hair and put on a little make-up.

When the father drove in, Lynn would run to greet him and walk with him up to the house, but there was an unspoken understanding that caused her to step aside when they reached the door where her mother waited.

The husband and wife would embrace, kiss, and her father would look at her mother and say,

“The reason a man works hard all day.”

 

 

“Don’t complain, just adapt.”

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“I can’t do that! Suppose they catch me at it!”
“Surely you won’t let them catch you at it? A clever girl like you.”

From The Perilous Gard (a book I recommend without reservation).

This type of exchange drives me mad. I start out with a genuine (legitimate) concern, and someone counters with, Oh, it’s nothing really for *you* to be worried about.

That they are right is really beside the point when one is feeling insecure.

~~~

One of the disadvantages of modern femininity is that one is allowed a moment to “vent” as she seeks to do her duty, but it seems she is not allowed a moment of helplessness. This is true even in religious circles where it may be characterized as “lack of faith” or fearfulness.

While both may at the root be true, that doesn’t mean the “offender” has chosen to act in unbelief or fear (as the correction would imply). We are simply reacting, and this shouldn’t be treated as a shocking surprise.

After all, we’re not perfected yet.

Finding and Changing Plans

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I got some books about Charlotte Mason from the library today. Along with a book that was very helpful when I used it two years ago. I’m hoping for some solidity in homeschooling expectations and help with my current sleep-debt.

Obviously my high-minded “reading-plan” has gone out the window. For now.

Not that it actually bothers me. Just that I’m continuing on as I have been. Doing what I want most to do at the moment.

It works for me a lot of the time, but calling it what it is (immediate gratification) always makes me uncomfortable.

I recognize it is a pattern of behavior– maybe even a mindset– that I struggle with, but because it works more than half the time, it is a very hard habit to break.

Those people who don’t want to talk to their kids about pot because it makes them feel like hypocrites? That’s the way I feel sometimes when I ask the girls to set something aside for later.

By the same token, I still do it, hoping they won’t end up with the same struggle I have. It’s hard to decide what to do sometimes.

Revision, Stage-one: Re-reading

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I’m feeling a direct parallel of interest re-reading as I did in writing this. I remember this section as one of the times I wanted to quit writing, and as a reader I am totally not sticking with it. I’m only on page 35, and I’m not picking it up during my reading times anymore.

When I was writing this was the signal to jump to a new section, so I’m almost to a total shift (and I know it will pick up quite a bit since I got a great word-count the next few nights). Knowing I only have a few pages left here is a good thing, but frustrating too, in a way, since I don’t feel justified in skipping to a more interesting part.

Bringing the axe to the first draft is not going to be emotional at all– well, maybe cathartic ;-). There’s some good stuff I need to be careful to trim around, but (in this section at least) it’s buried pretty deep in the gristle.

A brief excerpt (as I’m trying to toughen my skin): Continue reading »

Saying What I Mean

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The post to young mothers (about their husbands providing them a break) was written under a cloud of inspiration and attitude.

There have been a couple posts on my radar about “Mommy-time,” and they were what inspired the post, but before many more people read it, I feel like I want to explain myself.

I’ve mentioned before how much I thrive on positivity, and how I left a mom’s group once because they were too negative. The way this was typically manifested was in complaints about their lot as SAHMs and their husbands: Continue reading »

Evolutionary Hymn

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Another C.S. Lewis poem I read years ago. I didn’t “get” it at that time, but it’s very thought-provoking now.

Lead us, Evolution lead us
Up the future’s endless stair:
Chop us, change us, prod us, weed us.
For stagnation is despair:
Groping, guessing, yet progressing
Lead us nobody knows where….

Ask not if it’s god or devil
Brethren, lest your words imply
Static norms of good and Evil
(As in Plato) throned on high;
Such scholastic, inelastic
Abstract yardsticks we deny.

Far too long have sages vainly
Glossed great Nature’s simple text;
He who runs can read it plainly
“Goodness = what comes next.”
By evolving, Life is solving
All the questions we perplexed.

On then! Value means survival–
Value. If our progeny
Spreads and spawns and licks each rival
That will prove its deity
(Far from pleasant, by our present
Standards, though it well may be).