Wisdom from Elisabeth Elliot Gren

“His promises of guidance may be fully counted upon. Does it make sense to believe that the Shepherd would care less about getting His sheep where He wants them to go than they care about getting there?” -Passion and Purity

Glaring At Jadedness

They rumble, clutter, swirl
In wearying commotion
Over each hidden perversion;
Each referenced image unfurls,
Bursting out in verbose commotion.
 
Laughter glib, “Read it again!”
Peals out, leaping to tales of old
Devoured, retold. Here the world falls
Into an order most right
And love of tales charts another
In the current of words.
 
Meaning unveiled dazzles
Green eyes, might truth and order
Yet be found haunting stories?
Yes, and ideas, too. But
The abrupt mutilation in the
Grown ups’ games frighten dewy eyes.
 
Mildewy words and crossed angles
Of ideas stifle, stunt.
Multitudes of empty words
Are all they have, young faithful.
The riot, the clamor over
Sin reinvented is all they can say.
 
Their phallic images and women—
Women abused, and children
Unincarnate are all they
Know in the wasteland where
Easter and a Child never dawned.
 
He is the Word and the words
Are His; fear not the yowling
Of the hollow men here.
This clutter hides but will not rob
The story of the Word alive.
 
If you write, be not too clever.
For the clamor of fools follows
The witty in ordered chaos.
A gentle word from the mundane
Still demands pondering
In the stillness, between pages.

rumblings on words

Sometimes, I write letters. Sometimes, I send them. And sometimes, they are too weighty to be sent–someone might get hurt lifting them in transport, you see. So I keep them. 

His yoke is easy and His burden is light; He is the Word. And words are weighty things, being dusty mirror-tools given to the image-bearers to play with in their imitations of the Maker, scattering light or blinding and burning depending on the use. They are almost too much for us to bear and like the rest of it all must be redeemed to be light.

So why do I still play with them? For the extravagance of the weight of glory, I think, and the whispers of Him in them.

Schneenees, Overheard

Hännah: “Are you a gentleman?”

Eric: “No! I’m a SUMO WARRIOR. Duh.”

 

*singing to Hännah* “Go and hunt them, and find them, and kill them–KILL THE MEN!” – Heidi, spoofing Wicked

 

Hännah is singing a medley of “Pants,” “The Hairbrush Song,”  “My Dreams Are Getting’ Better All The Time,” and “I Did It” with twisted words narrating the drama of a lost toothbrush. 

Heidi, to a friend on the phone: “Hännah and her toothbrush—they have separation issues.”

Hännah, in a squeaky voice: “I love my toothbrush!”

Heidi: “Um, yeah. Told you. She loves her toothbrush.”

 

Heidi, singing pseudo-operatically: “Da te da! Some-times // I am su-PER! // That is … SO WEIRD.”

Ben L. to me, via Eric L.: “You hung up on him because he called you Miss Hännah and you were enraged, right, right??”

 

Joel to Laurel, on the merits of eating one’s eggs: “They’re yummy eggs! They’re delicious eggs! The eggs are where it’s at! Don’t you like eggs?”

Laurel, glaring, pokes Joel’s nose and remarks: “You Sam-I-am.”

 

Eric: “I think Hännah would like it in Emerald City.”

Nate: “Yeah, it’s all green there.”

 

Laurel: “Nana’s naughty.”

Lily: “Why’s Hännah naughty?”

Laurel: “I no know.” *shrugs*

 

Heidi: “Today is ‘Act like a t-rex day.’” *proceeds to roar and act scary, followed by Joel and the NED*

Heidi: “Ack! Joel drew BLOOD!”

Hännah: “Joel, get down and give me 20. No t-rexes in my kitchen!”

Joel: *whimpers*

Hännah: “Get down and be a man!”

*all four boys commence pushup contest*

 

Heidi: “Back in Jesus’ day, they didn’t eat chili because it was abominable. They ALSO didn’t have little girls who laughed with food in their mouths! Gosh!”

 

Joel: “Back in Jesus’ day, they didn’t have deodorant. So back then, it was like ‘Hello my beautiful wife—you smell really bad tonight!’”

 

Lily: “If Hännah were a beautiful woman, she’d have a nose ring by now.”

 

Clare: “You smell worse than your husband, Lily. Do you know why? Because you don’t have one!” *laughs hysterically*

Echoes

Yeats’ “Second Coming” and Eliot’s “The Hollow Men” echo in my head and I’m musing again.

Redemption persists, however. It’s far, far brighter and stronger–but you have to fix your eyes on the Light.