Sia's Song of Solomon

I know, this is a bit random but I cannot get this song out of my head. It's just beautiful. So, when you've got the blues and nothing is going right, I dare you to play this song (check it out on youtube) while reading the Song of Solomon. It's like chocolate for the soul. It's that great.

MY LOVE BY SIA

My love leave yourself behind
Beat inside me, leave you blind

My love you have found peace
You were searching for release

You gave it all
Give into the call
You took a chance and you took a fall for us

You came thoughtfully, and then faithfully
You taught me honor
You did it for me

Today you will sleep for good
You will wait for me my love

Now I am strong
You gave me all
You gave all you had and now I am home

My love leave yourself behind
Beat inside me, leave you blind

My love look what you can do
I am mending, I'll be with you

You took my hand
You added a plan
You gave me your heart
I asked you to dance with me

You loved honestly did what you could believe

I know in peace you go, I hope relief is yours

Now I am strong
You gave me all
You gave all you had and now I am home
My love leave yourself behind
Beat inside me, I’ll be with you.

To See Simply

I went on a picnic yesterday, a concept that is simultaneously similar and disparate from picnics in the States. Families here spend a lot of time together, especially on Fridays, the Muslim holy day. Every week, during the spring, summer and fall, everyone and their grandmother pile into their vans and heads out to scenic locations with the ridiculous amounts of food that the women stayed up half the night to prepare for lunch the next day. We’ll drive for at least a couple of hours, usually up into the mountains, pulling over for whoever needs to chuck their breakfast and finally find a place with some running water. Of course, if there’s anything slightly lovely to see, it’s already trashed with everyone’s rubbish. That’s an unfortunate backlash of the culture here: They don’t have any concept of environmental management. Forget reduce, reuse, recycle: we’re a step up to put things in a trash can around here.
But I semi-digress. We went to this one spring along the highway and I couldn’t really tell why we were stopping at this junky stream but hey, go with the folks and do what they do and do you’re best to have a good time while your at it is my motto. But the trash site that was to be our oasis definitely gave me a pause. Still they asked, do you like it here? They were so sweet and eager to make ME happy, I didn’t have the heart to tell them that the rubbish piles creeped me out. So, of course! So, we ate and then hopped into the cold water, ignoring the litter as best as I could which was surprisingly easy once everyone decided to attack the American in a water fight. I represented my country well! So this lasted for (what I considered) and inordinate amount of time before we climbed out to dry. Then we took off for another site. And this is where the rubber meets the road folks: the people here don’t do anything in a straight line. Their concept is time is, shall we say, lax. They don’t rush to get back. They have, no joke, 3 sets of tea within an hour. I’m thinking, enough already but then, they’ll talk some more. And eat and drink. Lord help me not to gain weight! And talk some more. But there’s something that I can’t get over: They’re just altogether PRESENT. They are completely in the moment and not fixed on some mental checklist. It’s rather refreshing.
Alexis de Tocqueville once commented that America, even in the 18th century was beginning to reveal “a strange melancholy in the midst of abundance.”
Being here checks my western despondency with time and life when things don’t move fast enough or the thrill isn’t present. It’s always a fight to catch myself as I struggle for the grand adventure. Like so many of my generation, I desire to be entertained, to be enraptured and captivated in the moment. That’s just not possible here. It’s the little things, the small moments of good companionship, of staying with people that you have loved and argued with for years, the constancy that helps them in the lack of visceral gratification. As grossed out by the litter and time that sometimes lagged, I kept thinking of just being content with these sweet people. Teasing and playing simple card games, thousands of little details that I regularly fail to pay attention to because the actions and plots aren’t lit up with grandness. It’s almost as if I’m blind. Now, when I struggle with the culture, the distance from my loved ones, I take hope in what joys I’m learning to see everything, it’s life and light:
“For the one who finds me finds life and obtains favor from the Lord.” (Prov. 9:4) And, as the silver tongue would say, “The path of the righteous is like the light of dawn, shining brighter and brighter until midday.” (Prov. 4:18)


"I’ll give you a lot of detail so you can see how much of it you're missing. Then, when you're feeling despair, you can look for the little things and see them as magnificent." I'd always thought that hope took for form of lightning bolts or blazing fires or northern lights. For me it's just like Emily Dickinson wrote: "hope is the thing with feathers." Hope is a giant flock of pelicans. Hope is love and grace and even in the middle of the shadow of death. -- Excerpt taken from Stumbling Toward Faith, p.153-154-- Written by Renee Altson (2004)-- J.Brown & Grains of Sand

Kiss Dating Goodbye

Where I am, you can kiss dating goodbye. Actually, leave out the kissing too. Dating here is strictly for the rebels and while there IS dating, it’s only on the hush and the parents (no matter how old you are) would flip if they discovered this contraband romance. And we’re not even talking about kissing. It happens but only closest friends would know about it. So why note this? Because I keep cracking up in my class since we’re using a British grammar book and it only references dating and kissing every other page. You should see the looks of consternation as they organize the WHEN/time placement relationship sequence:
a. Jane and John meet
b. Jane and John chat
c. Jane and John date
d. Jane and John kiss
e. Jane and John meet each other’s parents
f. Jane and John get engaged
g. Jane and John get married
h. Jane and John have children

And this is the R rating here. So, to make it more culturally applicable, I usually (as I’m attempting to smoother my laughter the whole time as I do so) switching things up to make it work thus:

e. Jane and John’s parents meet each other.
a. Jane and John meet
b. Jane and John chat (with the family present)
f. Jane and John get engaged
g. Jane and John get married
h. Jane and John have children

Hmm. I don’t think d. or c. ever come into the picture here. Even married couples don’t hold hands which really irritates the married Americans here. The men gripe that they can’t hold their wives hands but it’s kind of the same thing as walking down the street holding onto each other’s tooshies. Keep the hand-holding in the bedroom folks. Yet, to be fair, there ARE some love matches but that’s not the norm. To be fair, many apparent love matches in the States don’t look like love either. So perhaps it’s a wash.

On the lighter side, (in theory) you can hang out with someone of the opposite sex but never alone. However, a girl should always have another girl with her when she’s with her guy friend—even if they are in a public place. This is because of the parents, not because they are going to do anything and some of the younger people like my friends find this exasperating. I have three guy friends that I would really love to hang out with (I’ve been invited out to places with them), guys that I really like but just see as friends (two are Muslim) but I can’t because of the culture and, because I’m an American, I have to be ULTRA conservative—not my forte as anyone who knows my rambunctious nature would attest. So how do girls get out? If their momma isn’t with them, simply stated, they don’t. Every night is guys night out and every night is girls night in. All they do is watch American films and television after 6 pm but then again, all the guys do is drink chai and avoid their families. I’m so glad that the American men that live here, who understand the culture and could attempt to get away with being crappy husbands don’t act like average Joe here. They date their wives and watch the kids, do the laundry and try to be good men of God. Meanwhile, husbandless, aside from going over to my friend’s house for the evening with his family, this cat has hung her hat. I’ve kissed dating goodbye. And kissing. For now.

TO BE CONTINUED ;)

The Lost Virtue of Happiness

….the Good of man is the active exercise of his soul’s faculties in conformity with excellence or virtue, or if there be several human excellences or virtues, in conformity with the best and most perfect among them. Moreover this activity must occupy a complete lifetime; for one swallow does not make spring, nor does one fine day; and similarly one day or a brief period of happiness does not make a man supremely blessed and happy."

Like many of the ancient wise men, Aristotle was more concerned with emphasizing and developing human goodness in his fellow citizens than bequeathing theoretical knowledge of what that goodness is. Yet Aristotle states, “goodness is simple, badness manifold.” As such, his chief ‘good’ is primarily composed of the excellent function of man and this he refers to as eudaimonia or “human flourishing.” Although Aristotle is not exactly clear on whether happiness is the chief end of man, he seems to imply that this may be the case. The best way for man to flourish and attain happiness is through virtuous conduct. Yet, despite the fact that we live in a culture that embraces a pluralism of spiritual propositions, we are weaker than ever before in the knowledge of goodness.

As I study Proverbs, I reflect on relationships and it seems evident that the condition of a man’s relationships are a moral reflection of his character. What a man believes about life, love and God determines whether he can know happiness. I’ve been reading The Lost Virtue of Happiness by J.P. Moreland and while the book is simply constructed, I have been greatly encouraged by his advocacy of spiritual discipline and character formation. In the words of one review off Amazon:

One of the first points made in the book is the difference between our modern concept of happiness and the virtue of happiness. The difference is an important factor in living the life God intends for us. Modern happiness is a feeling, usually a feeling of pleasure. The problem is that as a goal in and of itself it is usually fleeting and out of grasp. But the virtue of happiness is the byproduct of a life well-lived. Moreland quotes Plato, "There is no question which a man of any sense could take more seriously than...what kind of life one should live." If God has made us, He has made us to flourish in a certain way.

Part of the problem with our modern notion of happiness isn't that it's fleeting, but that it’s too small.

"Remember, the concept of eternal life in the New Testament is not primarily one of living forever in heaven, but of having a new kind of life now. This new kind of life is so different that those without it can be called dead, truly. This is a life of human flourishing; a life lived the way we were made to function; a life of virtue, character, and well-being lived like and for the Lord Jesus."

----
This concept of happiness, a contentment of the mind and heart based on Jesus’ resurrection, is juxtaposed to our culture’s thrill seekers. I listen to bands like Coldplay, U2, Snow patrol and The Script and while there is much that I commend in their message, many songs pivot on the initial euphoria of finding love or the grief of failed expectations. While I know that God created us to feel and to anticipate heighted emotions, the weight that we evaluate our relationships in response to the thrills continues to disturb me. I think of Jesus and what horrors life would hold for us if He, in His grief with people failing to love and honor Him, the Creator, had paused on the way to the Skull and said, “You know what, I’m not feeling it right now. I have to make myself happy because you’re not healthy for my emotional well-being.” Or, “I think I need to take some time for myself and wait until I feel more comfortable with committing myself to putting your need for salvation ahead of my need to be exalted.” The character of God is the fulfillment of all virtues, most notably the four cardinal virtues (prudence, temperance, fortitude and justice) and the three theological virtues (faith, hope and love). With the virtuous man or woman of God, they alone may know true joy (as opposed to thrill and desire and fleeting pleasures) not because they are comfortable or they are admired, desired, or receive all that they want. They are fulfilled and happy in the truest sense because they are becoming true reflections of the One Who created us to know happiness as we live virtuously for Him.

Psalm 16:11 says, “You have made known to me the path of life; you will fill me with joy in your presence, with eternal pleasures at your right hand.”

----Notes on Aristotle:

Aristotle, Nicomachean Ethics. (Cambridge, Mass: Harvard University Press, 1947), I. vii.13-16.
Aristide Tessitore, Reading Aristotle's Ethics: Virtue, Rhetoric, and Political Philosophy. (Albany: State University of New York Press, 1996), 22-23.
Aristotle, NE, II. vi. 15-17.
Tessitore, 22.
Peter Kreeft, Back to Virtue: Traditional Moral Wisdom for Modern Moral Confusion. (San Francisco: Ignatius, 1992), 25.

Red Dawn, Spring of Peace and a Battle Lullaby

It’s a long road and a long way down to the place where I hang my hat for the moment. I went to the mountains with my translator’s family this past weekend and it was the closest that I’ve had to freedom since my arrival. It’s hard to be a woman here in the city unless you check your brain at the door. If the only thing that concerns you is cooking and cleaning, you’ll be just fine. I was never much of a Martha although I never turned my nose to taking care of my home. Yet to discover that the country allows a bit more leg room is a pleasant surprise. I could race my friends outside (I won), play in the wicked cold springs (the people called me a mermaid since swimming and diving skills are rare in this part of the world: mostly, they bob awkwardly) and relax my guard from the wagging tongues of city neighbors about American morals. It’s rather interesting how everyone is irritated by gossip but nonetheless it flourishes here. But the countryside is a breath of fresh air to the body and the spirit. I walked along old aqueducts, picked purple plums and juicy peaches in blossoming village orchards. I drank clean, cold water straight form the mountain streams with my hands and sang Waka Waka with my new friends. The many mothers, fathers, uncles, aunts, and cousins that I met were one and all good to me. Everyone is related. A stranger is really a family member that you haven’t met yet. I felt very comfortable and loved and had a few opportunities to share the gospel which left me hungry for more time with them. They are so lovely to be around, my heart aches that they are in darkness without Jesus to cover them with the holiness of God. The days are decidedly hot but we walked the shaded overgrown trails of the mountain forests and were refreshed by streams everywhere. Wildflowers and roses blossomed in abundance. I spent a fair amount of time touching, smelling and photographing the wild flora with quiet delight. Water has such a significant meaning out here. It produces beauty in this rough climate. And it is more than a basic substance but refreshment to the whole body: I think of how Jesus referenced Himself as the living water and as we constantly were refilling our water jugs at the village drinking well (although the homes have electricity, the water is contaminated). We found the ancient Spring of Peace that had been fought over for centuries. Good water that provides life in this arid region is precious and worth dying for if it means that your family land will survive. But that was not our concern, however and water fights ensued. So I awoke every morning at 5 am to the sound of the call to prayer from the village mosque, slept on the roof even after my friend came to check the roof for desert snakes and scorpions and without fear, fell asleep to the dizzying display of the Milky Way and the sound of bombs a few miles away. I was in perfect peace as my mind reflected on the providence and direction of God. Of course, it could have been the Turkish dark chocolate that they kept feeding me or the promise of a beautiful red and purple dawn that I knew would wake me up but it was a straight way for my heart to see that all that I had lost since I came to this country was but a piece of the magnificent puzzle of this wilderness in the East.

Culture Shock, Hopscotch Travel and Art

Before coming to the Middle East, I traveled for a couple weeks in Madrid and Vienna. I’m not so certain that doing so was a good mix as the pleasant cocktail of experiences that I had jostle now that I am in the midst of this culture’s restrictive flavor. Less than a thousand miles away, life is rife with opportunities. Here, at the very least politically, I don’t see a hopeful way for these people; the corruption and harassment that any business must face is frustrating at the least and the apathy that I’ve encountered concerning their state is regrettable. The unemployment rate makes the States look like a workers utopia. The one connection that I can make here is that, wherever you go, people love to hate their government.
Still, there is so much rugged beauty, the mountains that surround this prosperous city fairly preen and it’s a delight to see the sheep scattered on the hillsides. Yet, trash is thrown out on the street and mix openly with the chemicals that people use to clean their front walks which then flow into their rotting creeks and poison the land. The children roam the streets in their mini packs and even though they beat each other severely, I rarely see any alone. It’s a real delight to walk home from the school to witness the community in the late afternoon and early evenings. There aren’t ANY play grounds for the children so the streets sufice (note: they don’t have driving lanes so the motto is move it or lose it) and make their empty demolition lots their roost. So many people are incredibly rich but there seems to be little investment in their community outside of the gated homes. On the upside, people generally are socially industrious and their table is generous to say the least. I sometimes wonder how their tables don’t audibly groan under the weight. Their hospitality is a reprimand to Western standards and the neighbor is expected to be Generous! Generous! Generous! To show less than abundant hospitality is shameful. I have taken note and I cannot help but compare this to ancient Israel, Abraham’s relations and attitudes. In any case, I visited such a home a few nights ago and met an art teacher for elementary students. I have learned that her display of artwork was very rare as the people tend to not invest in artistic development which, when you think about it, should not come as a surprise really since art is a very liberating venture. In a religion and culture that dismisses the aspirations of individuals, especially those who do not readily conform to a standardized testing, the forms of beauty and art are not cultivated. This is a harsh note that rattles the Viennese culture that I adored prior to my current post. In beautiful Vienna, I swam in the fresh Danube, went to the opera Madame Butterfly and learned about Gustav Klimpt, an Austrian symbolist painter and his influence across the continent (I believe one of his paintings broke the record, selling for a cool $135 million). As a brief snapshot,Klimpt was a young artist when he and his two brothers the “Company of Artists", were commissioned to paint murals in the Kunsthistorisches Museum in Vienna. The Ringstraße museum was commissioned by the Emperor in an ostentatious display for the Habsburgs' astounding art collection. Few royals could compare to the conservation of their nation’s art and Vienna is a jewel of creative talent in its manifest forms. I enjoyed the story of how the young men and their employment as unestablished talents who took on Vienna and then Klimpt, the world. Even now I find it fascinating how much Klimpt was actually able to contribute to Egyptian archeology today through his Egyptian symbolism.
So, yes, I miss Vienna. But I am not wrong to be here either. Maybe I will discover a new treasure in these people. One might note that at the very least, the people are my pleasure and I’m forming good relationships with my students so the unfortunate aspects that I witness here are mitigated with love.And that can't be so bad, n'est pas?

Awake My Soul, Sigh no More

Last night I saw the sky as if it was for the first time. I was invited by a family to go on a picnic, a popular pastime here in the Middle East and these gatherings are both frequent (weekly) and last long into the night. The camp site was located in the foot hills of the mountains that surround my city but resides on the other side of the mountain pass, making the city (and its lights) effectively obscured. My startling encounter occurred after a gastronomical display of overflowing food (imagine a spectacular Thanksgiving display and you have a fairly standard picnic with the exception that the women and men dress in their traditional formal clothing), everyone settles into their respective chatting groups with the kids playing tag and the families chattering over their chai tea (although various hypotheses are proposed as to the whys, tea somehow tastes better over a hearth fire than an oven or electric kettle).
After a few hours group of listening to the conversations floating around me, I sought a slice of quiet away from the crowd. I ventured from the picnic tables and the lighted outdoor pavilion and walked down the dirt road in the dark far enough that I could hear other things like the coyote in the distance or the brush of wind in the brittle vegetation. My thoughts were about my day and how much I needed to keep up with my investigation on the book of Proverbs. I was tired. My thoughts were muddled mixture good and difficult matters so it took several minutes before I stopped and looked up, as was my habit, to find the moon when I go on night walks in the States. I had not thought much about the difference that in sky since I knew I would spend most of my time in a fairly large city this summer. Yet, on the other side of this mountain in a land far away, away from the pollution of city artifice and sounds, I saw something that had fascinated me since I was a child: the night sky revealing itself in such a dramatic way, I ached with its fierce intimacy. The stars glittered brilliantly, their piercing radiance of fire and motion. The feeling that I could touch them was so strong, I reached to trace their formations with my hand. If only I was just a bit taller I felt sure I could reach them. Orion, of course, was posturing like the glorious warrior that he is, one of the easiest constellations to spot by even the most inexperienced eye. I had seen him before, thousands of times. But I didn’t see him fully. I didn’t realize how vast and powerfully he could appear, for all his popularity. My sincerest apologies, my dear. And Canis Major and Ursa Minor, old childhood friends when I was afraid in the dark and alone as a child. The feeling was better than magic because it was real. The truth of what I saw was both a sweet wonder and a quiet delight that seeped into my heart. Comforting me in the dusty mountains that encircled me, far from home and the people I love, my silent guides throughout my life declared God’s glory. There, as I marveled at God’s power and wisdom, MY Creator and theirs, spoke clear and true: He IS Unfathomable:

The heavens are telling of the glory of God;
And their expanse is declaring the work of His hands.
Day to day pours forth speech,
And night to night reveals knowledge.
There is no speech, nor are there words;
Their voice is not heard.

The mysteries of creation revolve around Himself, not man. In nature, in the darkness and the revelation of God in creation, Job understood for the very first time the epic Character of God:
“I know that You can do everything,
And that no purpose of Yours can be withheld from You.
You asked, ‘Who is this who hides counsel without knowledge?’
Therefore I have uttered what I did not understand,
Things too wonderful for me, which I did not know.
Listen, please, and let me speak;
You said, ‘I will question you, and you shall answer Me.’
“I have heard of You by the hearing of the ear,
But now my eye sees You. (Psalm 19)

The Creator appointed 300 billion stars in the Milky Way yet only 2500 stars may be seen to the naked eye at any one time in one place. But oh, how they shine. And now, I hold my tongue, grateful to see more clearly in the darkness the prominence God’s illumination of the heavens. “I meditate on You during the night watches because You are my help; I will rejoice in the shadow of Your wings, I follow close to You; your right hand holds on to me.” (Psalm 63)

(note: the title comes from a Mumford and Sons song)