Author: jevlir

  • Tales from Jevlir Kindle Price Reduction

    I have reduced the price of the Kindle edition of Tales from Jevlir: Oddballs [publisher catalog page] to $0.99 from $2.99. Now such a price reduction could look desperate as a result of poor sales. Well, it’s not desperate, but it is due to poor sales. I didn’t expect too much, considering that most of the stories in the book come directly from this blog. Still, there are two stories you won’t have seen here. So now for just 99 cents you can have the collection on your Kindle.

  • Obscuring the Glory of God in Literature

    Venus de Milo. Louvre Museum.
    Image via Wikipedia

    In my post Creativity for the Fun of It, I maintained that it’s fine for Christians to write and publish works that are just for fun, and that God’s glory shines through such things because God is the creator of everything, not just some limited subset that we define as sacred.

    As that post has become one of the more popular ones on this blog over the last few days, I re-read it, and noticed that one might misunderstand. I’m speaking there within the context of literature that doesn’t set out to obscure that glory, or get so far off the track that it accidentally does so.

    Let me make some comparisons.

    • The Venus de Milo vs. pictures in Penthouse
    • A movie that contains violent scenes of war as opposed to a horror movie
    • A book with sexual content where it is an important part of the story as opposed to a book of pornography

    I’m not here going to condemn whole genres, any more than I’m saying that any literature is OK. I’m generally opposed to arbitrary standards. I would say, “Can you find God in there?”, but some people would then look for the word “God.” Perhaps one should ask whether one can see God reflected there through his creation.

    As a very specific case in point, I’d like to mention the novels of Andrew Greeley. If I remember the phrase correctly, Greeley was once described as having “the dirtiest mind ever ordained.” I won’t praise his novels as great literature. He seemed to largely work with one plot. But in each novel you’d see the passion of human sexuality used as a mirror to reflect the passion with which God seeks us. I’m sorry that Greeley is now no longer able to write.

     

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  • Our Church is Shrinking

    “Our church is shrinking,” said the head elder, “and it’s your fault.”

    Zeb didn’t respond immediately. He’d been summoned to the church board meeting, though when he’d used the word “summoned” the head elder had objected. “We just want to talk to you,” he had said. But it felt like a summons, and this felt like a trial, only less organized.

    “Well,” said the head elder after the silence had grown uncomfortable. “Do you have anything to say?”

    “I’m not sure what makes you believe it’s my fault the church is shrinking.”

    “It seems obvious to me. We hired you to make this church grow, and now a year has passed, and we’ve lost more members this year than ever before, and of those that have joined the church not one—not one!—has stayed.”

    Copyright © Henry E. Neufeld, 2011. This is a work of fiction. All events and characters are products of my imagination. Any resemblance to real persons, places, or events is purely coincidental.

    “But this church has been shrinking for more than a decade, and shrinking faster each year. How does it become my fault?” Zeb looked truly puzzled.

    “A year ago we took a big risk,” said another man, a businessman who also acted as church business manager. “We decided that we could afford to hire a pastor of outreach to stop the bleeding. But spending all that money on your salary has proven a bad investment.”

    “Yes,” said another, “and you missed our last planning meeting as well.”

    “I did send an e-mail to let you and the pastor know I wouldn’t be available.”

    “Yes, an e-mail! I didn’t get it until after the meeting. But that meeting was important! Even critical! You had known about it for weeks. You shouldn’t have missed it.”

    Zeb really couldn’t argue here. He’d chosen to drive a homeless man to the shelter. He’d sent an e-mail because he knew they wouldn’t get it in time and so they wouldn’t be able to order him to attend the meeting. He really could have gotten someone else to drive the man to the shelter. But he just couldn’t face that meeting.

    “So you see,” said another, “we gambled on you and it looks like we lost.”

    “I see,” said Zeb. Then he paused for more than a minute. People started shifting in their seats in discomfort as the time extended, but it did look like Zeb was gathering his thoughts.

    “I’m afraid I’ve been operating under false pretenses,” he said finally. “The only excuse I can give is that I didn’t know it. But I should have. I should have known what you were doing.”

    “What do you mean ‘what we were doing?’” asked the head elder. “We’re talking about you.”

    “I’m wondering if you have the letter you sent describing this job.”

    “I can’t say that I have a copy,” said the head elder. “Why?”

    “Well, I can’t recall anything in there that said I was supposed to make this church grow. If I had seen anything like that, I wouldn’t have applied for the job. If I’d suspected anything like that was in your mind, I would have never taken it when it was offered.”

    “But we hired you as outreach pastor!” The head elder was somewhere between shock and anger.

    “And if you expect an outreach pastor to ‘grow your church,’ then you’re badly mistaken. I can’t grow your church and neither can any other person you might hire.”

    “Don’t pretend that everyone is as incompetent as you are,” said the businessman.

    “Incompetent? I suppose I deserve that. I should have realized just what you were up to long ago and done something about it. But I was so happy to be doing outreach and getting paid for it, I didn’t realize.”

    “You keep saying things like, ‘what we’re up to,’” said the head elder. We’re not “up to” anything, except that we expect you to do your job.

    “But you didn’t include ‘make our church grow’ in your job description.”

    “I’d think it was obvious.”

    “Oh, but it isn’t. In fact, it’s obviously wrong!” There was a gasp in the room. One didn’t tell the head elder he was wrong in that direct a way.

    “So what do you think your job is?” asked the head elder after he’d recovered enough. He was sure they were going to fire this guy before the meeting was over.

    “Well, the description you provided in your letter said things like ‘building the kingdom of God in this community’ and ‘reaching the lost for Christ,’ not to mention ‘leading the congregation in showing Christ’s love.’ I have tried to do those things with God’s help.”

    “But if you had been doing all that, our church would have grown!” said the businessman. “As it is, few enough people visit, even less come back a second time, and the two families who did join left the church in a few weeks. So somewhere in there you’re not doing your job.”

    Zeb tried hard to stay calm, but with that last line something broke in him. He had always wondered if there was such a thing as righteous anger, and he was in enough control to wonder if his anger right then was righteous or not.

    “I think I can explain that,” he said in clipped tones.

    “I’d really like to hear it, said the businessman before Zeb could continue.

    “I really doubt you do,” said Zeb, and continued before he could be interrupted. “I remember each and every person I’ve brought to this house. One man came to church in jeans and a t-shirt. One of you told him he wasn’t dressed appropriately, and should make sure to wear appropriate clothing next time he was in church ‘out of respect for God,’ was the phrase, I believe.

    “He didn’t own any better clothing, so he just never came back. Fortunately, I found him another church that was willing to let him attend in whatever clothing he had. Well, actually, the members got together and found him a new wardrobe. He has a job now as well.”

    “But you’re supposed to be bringing people here!’ exclaimed the businessman, “You’re not hired to grow other churches.”

    “I did bring him here, in case you hadn’t noticed. I’d even talked to some members and started to collect clothes for him. But you ran him off before I could finish.”

    The businessman was red in the face and opened his mouth to respond, but Zeb just rolled right over him.

    “Then there were the Jeffries. Their family actually joined the church, but one of you caught Mr Jeffries having a beer and told him he was misrepresenting Christ and the church by drinking. He decided he’d rather be somewhere else. But you see, nobody had told Mr. Jeffries that people at this church don’t drink beer.”

    “You should have taken care of that,” said the head elder, just short of shouting.

    “True, but you see, I can’t find anything in the stated beliefs and practices of this church that says one can’t have a beer. It’s just sort of something you do. Or don’t do.”

    “So,” said the businessman, “you’re saying we’re running people off.” He was a practical man.

    “Yes,” said Zeb, “you’re running people off.”

    “I think you’re bringing in the wrong people,” said the head elder.

    There was silence. Nobody wanted to put it that explicitly. The head elder had spoken without really thinking. It was something you did, but not something you named.

    “I think,” said Zeb, “that the only honest thing for me to do is give you my resignation. The job you hired me to do can’t be done by someone hired. It has to be done by the whole church. And as it is, I wouldn’t want to do it. I don’t believe there are any wrong people. That you think there are”—he looked straight at the head elder—”is something I believe you should make a matter of serious prayer and seeking.”

    With that, Zeb stood up and left the room. He tried to do it courteously, but he wasn’t sure he succeeded. He just knew he couldn’t waste time this way for another minute.

    “Well,” said the head elder after Zeb had left, “what should we do?”

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  • Creativity for the Fun of It

    Through my company Energion Publications I publish a book by Nick May, titled Megabelt. (He has another book on the way, not with Energion, but I’ll provide news of that later.) Now Nick is a Christian young man, deeply involved in his local church. But he can get just a bit challenging to some people’s sensibilities in his writing.

    Nick’s mother has struggled with some of the things he writes. She posted about this on her blog the other day. Here’s an extract:

    He lives with passion. I admire him for that. He believes with all his heart in writing purely for the sake of aesthetic value, and simple, pure enjoyment of the art, and not necessarily with always Christian content. I had to struggle through this myself, and he has had to struggle too, because he is gutsy, and real and comes under fire for it. I wasn’t sure for a while, where I stood on the issue, because I always believe in glorifying God in whatever we do. Last night, I got a reality check.

    Now I’m going to let you go to Hannah May’s blog Grace, Grace to find out about the reality check.

    I appreciate Hannah’s writing, because I too have encountered many people who question the idea of literature and art for enjoyment. They want literature that has an explicitly Christian theme or specifically aims at providing a moral or a gospel message. Because of this they’ll challenge the idea of reading fantasy and science fiction, for example.

    I, on the other hand, think that this anti-creative attitude, or more precisely restrictive attitude, is what is most limiting to Christianity and Christian thinking.

    The entire world belongs to God. God is the creator of everything that is. Some people think we need to stay in some sort of spiritual realm, or in some set of ideas that is bounded by religion. That attitude, in my view tends to deny that other things, such as our love lives, our sexuality, our imaginations, our inventiveness, and our creativity are truly a part of God’s world. Except, of course, for those portions that fall into those artificial religious boundaries.

    But even if I am relaxing on my front porch, not thinking religious thoughts at all, and not carrying a John 3:16 sign, I am living in God’s world. Whether an artist is drawing a picture of Jesus at the last supper, an abstract impression of the skyline of a city, or yes, even a study of the human body, that artist can’t help say something about God through that observation of creation.

    And whether a writer intends a moral when writing a story or not, there is again a reflection of God’s universe in the writing, and one can hardly prevent the reader from learning. More importantly, one can permit the reader the experience of fun and joy through the reflection.

    Whether we eat or drink, and whether we draw, write, or act, God’s glory is going to shine through somewhere, because the whole world, not just defined portions of it, belongs to God.

     

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  • The King and the Innocent Man

    After 41 years, 6 months, and 13 days, the king was informed of the innocent man.

    The king was filled with consternation. It was not only contrary to the laws of his kingdom, to his very own decrees, in fact. It was contrary to the laws of God. In fact, it was, fundamentally contrary to nature!

    So he turned to his courtiers and announced: “I’m going to the royal prison.”

    Now the courtiers were filled with consternation. The king had never visited the royal prison. There was no precedent. The royal guard wondered how they could keep the king safe in such a place. The royal chef was certain the kitchen facilities would be inadequate. It was, after all, a prison.

    But the king was an absolute ruler, deriving authority from God himself, and the courtiers dared not tell him he couldn’t visit the prison. It was, after all his royal prison, even though nobody had ever imagined he would actually be there.

    So quite a train of horses, carriages, and wagons carrying supplies left the palace, and they delivered the king to the royal prison.

    Once the governor of the royal prison got over the shock of seeing His Majesty actually inside his royal prison, he inquired as to what His Majesty required of his loyal governor.

    “We wish to see the innocent man,” announced the king.

    The governor of the prison didn’t know what to say to that. He knew very well which man the king was referring to. But he wasn’t certain if he could admit it without calling the king a liar. It was firmly entrenched in the law of the kingdom that no person who was incarcerated in the royal prison was innocent.

    “Your majesty,” said the governor. “Nobody can be imprisoned here if he is innocent.”

    “Don’t waste our time,” said the king. That he did not recognize and take account of the governor’s problem showed just how deep his consternation was. He was normally very thoughtful and considerate of the efforts his courtiers made to respect him and the laws of his kingdom.

    “The man who claims to be innocent is out with a work crew, breaking rock. He will be sent for immediately.”

    Though the men hurried, it was a full hour before the innocent man was brought in before His Majesty. He bowed with his forehead to the ground quite properly. When he was told to rise, he stood respectfully.

    “You claim you are innocent,” said the king.

    “Yes, your majesty,” said the innocent man.

    “Yet you are here in the royal prison, where the law says no innocent man may be incarcerated. It is an intolerable contradiction. Do you deny the law?”

    “I do not deny the law, your majesty. I simply know that I am innocent.”

    “Can you explain this?”

    “No, your majesty, I cannot.”

    “So you are innocent?”

    “Yes, your majesty.”

    “Yet you have been here, living a contradiction for more than 40 years.”

    “41 years, 6 months, and 13 days,” said the innocent man.

    “You were convicted of a brutal murder by a jury of your peers?”

    “Yes, your majesty.”

    “When you refused to accept the verdict, your life was examined, is that not so?”

    “Yes, your majesty.”

    “And they found that you had lost eight children and your first two wives to disease, you had suffered poor crops half of your years as a farmer. Further, in the month prior to the crime, people around you suffered an extraordinary number of catastrophes. Is that not clear evidence that you are cursed by God and not innocent?”

    “I don’t know about that, your majesty. I only know that I am innocent.”

    “When you refused to accept the verdict of the priests who examined your life, you were subjected to ordeal by being cast into the sacred lake.”

    “Yes, your majesty.”

    “And the lake failed to receive you. In fact, you floated for an extraordinarily long time. And you still maintained your innocence.”

    “Yes, your majesty.”

    “You were tortured for 30 consecutive days, and still you refused to admit your guilt.”

    “That is true, your majesty.”

    After you had spent 20 years in the royal prison, you were offered pardon, as is our royal will. All that was required was that you admit your guilt. Yet for the last 20 years you have refused our grace!”

    “For the last 21 years, your majesty.” It could have been insolent, that correction, but the man sounded so respectful.

    “Well,” said the king, “I will now give you an opportunity to correct this apparent flaw in the state of nature. I command you as your king to admit your guilt, and even now you will receive our grace.”

    “But, your majesty, the law of the kingdom also allows no occasion on which one is permitted to testify falsely. The law is also clear that if I admit my guilt, it is regarded as sworn testimony. And the fact is that I know that I am innocent.”

    The king was stumped. He would have been angry but he was too puzzled. Besides being the law of the land, it was simply nature, the way things worked! A person was found guilty by a jury. Yet a jury could be mistaken. But that person could appeal to a check of the omens. If the omens went against him, he could request a trial by ordeal. If he failed all of this, the Divine verdict was clear—he was guilty. After a certain portion of his sentence was fulfilled, he would be offered the opportunity to accept the king’s grace and be relieved. Everyone accepted their guilt and his grace!

    He was both just and merciful. He had eliminated the penalty of death. There was nothing more he could or should do!

    He turned back to the innocent man. “You are a contradiction. …”

    Endings:

    1. Therefore I declare that you are not a man. You are, in fact, a demon, and as such may be eliminated. You will be sent from this place stripped of the protection of the laws you contradict.
    2. Therefore I declare your trial, omens, and ordeal must be null and void and that those who carried them out are guilty of fraud against God and the king. You are free!
    3. Therefore I declare that there may be one, and only one, exception to the law. You are that exception. You are free!
    4. Therefore I find that you are the most stubbornly wicked of all men, compounding brutal murder with unrepentant lying and an endurance that could only be possible with the help of the Evil One. You will remain in prison for life, and I declare you the guiltiest of all despite your denial.

    What do you think the king will do?

     

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  • Christian Carnival for August 31 Posted

    … at MandM. I’d call attention to Matthew Flanagan’s posts Response to William Lane Craig’s Question 225: “The ‘Slaughter’ of the Canaanites Re-visited” Part I and Part II which deals with an issue I find very interesting. I hope to post on it soon, but I’ve had one of Matthew’s posts marked for a response for several months and haven’t gotten to it.

    In addition, I found Richard H. Anderson’s  One Way Indicators rather interesting, though I’d have to hear much, much more before I’d consider his early (before 39 CE) dating for Luke plausible.

    Great carnival!

  • The Sayings of the Master

    Iluan-ga had not felt such excitement for a very long time. She was 81 years old, and a member of a well-disciplined order whose members maintained physical and mental health, and reasonable emotional control.

    She paused in her study of the ancient manuscript. PÂ-EKLI-TÎ-ÂN she read. “The saying of the master.” Not PÂ-EKLI-ÂN “a saying of the master” or even yet PÂ-EKLA-ÂN “a saying of a master.”  More importantly not PÂ-IR-ÂN “sayings,” which would match the readings she knew from more recent manuscripts. In the current dialect it would be PA-IR-AN EKLI, as current speech avoiding the extra infix characteristic of the ancients. “The sayings of the master.”

    This is a work of fiction.
    Copyright © 2011
    Henry E. Neufeld

    Twice before she had encountered this reading, though in modern form, and had heard two different dismissals. In once case the suggestion was simple scribal error. In another, a collective usage. Yet she knew of no other instance of PÂ-ÂN used as a collective. Yet the reading seemed so strange to her as to be utterly impossible.

    There could not be just one saying of the master. Perhaps there was one key saying of the master. That would explain it. Even that was somewhat heretical. The entire order lived their lives according to the sayings of the master. There were thousands of them. The master had spoken much wisdom during his life.

    Yet in a lifetime of study of the manuscripts she had begun to wonder. In her own mind — and strictly in her own mind, as such a thing would never do! — she had formulated a hypothesis. She thought that there had been a smaller collection of sayings, large and full of wisdom, no doubt, yet much smaller than the ones possessed by the order today. To those original sayings had been added the sayings of disciples (specially inspired, she added piously to herself), which expanded the wisdom to meet new situations.

    So she had spent her lifetime, using the blessing of her near photographic memory, to responding publicly to challenges of the wisdom of the sayings, while privately looking for the true core.

    And here at Turio, high in the mountains, with the special blessing of the order due to her long service, she was looking at one of the most ancient collections. If the superscript was to be believed, it dated to a mere century after the death of the master. And it contained the one truly enigmatic reading.

    She had established that earlier sources had less sayings. She had defended the missing sayings by the usual route — establishing their genealogy by tracing them to a reliable source. Yet she had never imagined a singular saying.

    As she recovered from her original shock, her eye went almost automatically to the margin, only to be shocked further. “The story of the saying of the master,” the carefully written note said, “can be found in the inner vault of TU-Û-IZZI-ZHO.” “Where’s that?” she thought, but it hit her, almost before the thought was complete. The ZH sound dropping out in proximity to the hard Z, the common shift of the extended ZZ to something softer. Here she was.

    And there in front of her was the inner vault. She didn’t have explicit permission to look in it, but she thought her commission from the head of the order would cover it. The question was, did she have the key? She worked through the set she had been given, and sure enough there was the key to the inner vault. It appeared nobody thought it particularly important. It was just another cupboard on which the relics of the order might be kept.

    As far as she had been able to tell, nobody here could read the oldest syllabic script in any case. She had to oil the lock to open it, but once inside, covered in dust, she found a stack of manuscripts. She had to work her way through a stack of records from the first year of this monastery’s founding, a historical treasure, no doubt, but of no interest to her. She finally reached a single sheet that appeared to contain some sort of narrative.

    It read (in modernized form):

    This was recounted to me, the founder of this monastery at Turio, by the Follower himself. The Follower sat at the bedside of the the Master when he lay dying. He asked the Master what sayings of wisdom he should pass on to future followers.

    The master spoke briefly, as always. “No saying, only thoughts and actions.”

    Then the master passed on to live amongst the gods.

    Iluan-ga looked at her own translation for a moment. Then she reconsidered the ancient forms and adjusted those last words: “No saying, only thinking and acting.”

    And how, she asked herself, do I think and act now?

  • Christian Carnival CD Posted

    … at Parableman. I’m a little late linking to it, but better late than never.

  • Christian Carnival

    Welcome to the Christian Carnival for July 27, 2011. We have a number of interesting posts and I will doubtless yield to the temptation to add my own commentary, thus demonstrating that there are some certainties in life. I will also invent any number of awards and bestow them on various posts.

    Culture

    Aoide-Melete-Mneme(my error corrected-HN) Jennifer Vaughn presents A Lament for Chivalry posted at à la mode de les Muses. She tells us that chivalry is dead, but second-wave feminism didn’t kill it. Who’s to blame? Many of us, it would seem.

    Bible Study

    Jeremy Pierce dips into one of my favorite subjects, translation theory, as he presents Formal Translation in Aquinas posted at Parableman, a look at a translation issue in Aquinas to shed light on one factor in the Bible translation debates. Jeremy proposes alternate translations, and they are well worth noting. I’ve starred this one for a comment post of my own, so I won’t discuss it here.

    Apologetics

    Maryann Spikes presents Can Richard Dawkins Handle Propositions? posted at YouTube, saying, “For those unfamiliar w/ the backstory: Dr. Dawkins is afraid to debate Dr. Craig, and just got in trouble for calling a feminist a whiner for blogging against being propositioned in an elevator. There are ‘those’ sorts of propositions, then there are propositions in logical arguments. Hence–the title. :-D” OK – first time I’ve included a YouTube video in a carnival that wasn’t embedded in someone’s post, but hey, it’s the social media age! This gets the “doing a new thing” award.

    Luke Nix presents Can Religion Be Tested for Truth? posted at Faithful Thinkers, thus heading into some of the deepest waters in Christian apologetics. I want a lot more definitions, but this will start a good discussion, hopefully between people who do think propositions can be true and false!

    Edgar Andrews presents God, science and evolution Part 1 posted at Who Made God?. This post connects to the previous one in that both are dealing with epistemology, with how we know things. Words like “reality,” “testing,” and “humanistic methodology.” Few seem to have patience to work through these issues, but they will continue to bedevil you whether you acknowledge them or not.

    Stephen McAndrew presents Finale? posted at Songs of a Semi-Free Man, saying, “This post exams the tension between our quest for meaning and our physical death – an existentialist apologetic. This is the latest essay post on my blog ‘Songs of a Semi-Free Man’, which focuses on dismantling post-modern and modernist myths through essays and poetry.” This presents a very different approach to asking about reality, and yet it connects with the previous ones. If we sense an emptiness, is there something missing?

    J.W. Wartick presents Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows: Part 2, A Christian’s thoughts posted at J.W. Wartick -“Always Have a Reason”,  a commentary on the Harry Potter phenomenon from a Christian perspective. A focus on incorporating Potter to teach about Jesus. OK, I confess that I have neither read any of the books nor seen any of the movies, nor bothered to listen to much commentary. In this post I read more about Harry Potter than I have read in the entire time since the books were released. But there is a great tradition of using fiction to illustrate religious themes, and this post is a good example. It gets the “made me read about something I’d avoided” award. (And yes, I know this is a fiction blog!)

    Greg West presents The Poached Egg Apologetics – The Eagle Has Landed or Has It? posted at The Poached Egg Apologetics, in which he engages in some very pointed satire. If you don’t get where this one is going pretty quickly, I can’t help you. His little note at the end ‘splaining it is pretty much redundant.

    Chris Brooks presents Jesus & Myth posted at Homeward Bound, in which he asks, “Were the stories about Jesus borrowed from ancient myths?” It’s an interesting and brief rundown of the argument.

    Devotionals

    Lauren Shook presents In the Whirlwind and Storm is His Way posted at RE//all things new. Sometimes we see God in the events in nature, such as storms. I give this post the evocative imagery award.

    Christina Siniscalchi presents Gifts That Matter posted at Sisternotes, reminding us of the importance of gifts. I confess I wanted to know more about the poor kid in the introduction who got his note torn up!

    Jane Baker presents Spiritual and Emotional Health posted at To Drivel or Not to Drivel, saying, “I’d like to have comments on this post in advance of speaking on this topic in August.” I will add that you should read the post to see the phrase “birthing Ishmaels” used in a sentence.

    Isabel Anders presents A “Soul Moment” | BlogHer posted at BlogHer. Do you like to be able to see where you’re going? How far do you have to see? I confess that “one step at a time” is not far enough for me. This is an excerpt from the blog author’s book Soul Moments.

    Dan Lower presents Cynical Hope and the “O My Jesus” Prayer posted at keyboard theologians, in which the overwhelming hope of the Christian tradition helps to make us hopeful even in our cynicism, if nothing else, for the hope of our own salvation. I give this the “hopeful cynic” award.

    loswl presents Learning the Joy of Trusting in God posted at INSPIKS. He says: “This week the topic that has been on my heart is faith and trust. For some reason it really bothers me when people say that they can’t trust in God because of what He puts them through.” Trust is hard. ‘Nuff said? Nah. Go read the post.

    Kaleb presents God Willing? posted at W2W Soul: Windows to The Woman’s Soul, saying, “When is the last time you heard someone say ‘God willing?’ When I was a child, it was a common occurrence to include the phrase ‘God willing’ when making statements about the future.” This gets the “yeah, we really ought to do that” award.

    My wife Jody Neufeld presents (or I present on her behalf) Because I Said So from Jody’s Devotionals, dealing with one of the hard passages of scripture.

    Narratives

    Jennifer in OR presents Sister Love, Brother Bear posted at Diary of 1. This is a story of how stitch by stitch, her children’s souls were being connected in gracious love. Great story!

    Ridge Burns presents Ken Blanchard posted at Ridge’s Blog. How often do you celebrate someone who has sown new seeds into your life and ministry?

    michelle presents leaving the nest? posted at going into all the earth…, saying, “little excerpt from my life…” But it’s an excerpt that will resonate with any of us whose children have moved away. Don’t worry, Michelle, wonderful things are coming!

    Financial

    Jason Price presents The Great Recovery: Dave Ramsey’s new movement posted at One Money Design, saying, “Did you see the Great Recovery kick off event? Dave Ramsey has initiated a movement for people to manage their money better and follow God’s principles.”

    Joe Plemon presents Am I a Rich Fool? posted at Personal Finance By The Book, saying, “I sometimes read scripture through a filter which allows the truth to enter my brain while bypassing my heart. The story of the rich fool just may have been through that filter.”

    That concludes this edition. Submit your blog article to the next edition of christian carnival ii using our carnival submission form. Past posts and future hosts can be found on our blog carnival index page.

     

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  • The Swing over the River

    “And then I let go when I’m at the farthest point out, drop into the river and swim to the far shore. The current will be helping me.”

    “And if you can’t make it?”

    “I’ll come up against that rock.”

    “What rock? I can barely see anything.”

    “There’s a rock in the water just where the river turns. If I can’t make it to shore, I will almost certainly end up at that rock.”

    “And if you miss?”

    They could both hear the roar of the rapids below.

    “If I miss, I’ll die, and you’ll think of another plan.”

    “I don’t think there is another plan.”

    “Let’s get going, then. The bandits can’t be far behind.”

    This is a work of fiction.
    Copyright © 2011
    Henry E. Neufeld

    Sheldon looked around. The ragged group of refugees had pretty much fallen where they stopped. In the darkness with just a waning moon, he couldn’t see their faces, but he knew there would be no hope. They’d been forced further and further south, and everyone knew one couldn’t ford the river here. Soon they would all be killed.But this kid thought he could swing out over the river, and get near enough to the other bank to avoid the rocks. He maintained that the current at that point would push him in the right direction. Not only that, but he’d have to do it with a rope tied around his waist. Once that rope was tied at both ends, they’d run another one, and let the people cross on the one rope while holding the other.

    It would be the end of the road for their mule, who was carrying the supplies. It was the kid again who had inclued that much rope in their load. He seemed to think there were few things that couldn’t be solved with the proper length of rope. Whether the refugees could cross the river in that manner remained to be seen. Sheldon doubted they’d all make it.

    The kid looked at the rope hanging from the tree. The memories were strong. The little river near his home, not too swift, but very muddy, and considered somewhat dangerous, especially for the very young. He’d only been five years old the first time he tried to swing out over the river, much too young. Nothing had ever stopped him. No amount of orders, no punishments, no matter how severe, could keep him away from the rope swing. And he was good.

    As he looked at the river below in the moonlight, he realized how fragile were his plans. There was no room for error. If he was any less skilled than he had said, he would land either amongst the rocks on this side or in the middle of the stream, where he would have no chance to reach the other bank before being swept around the turn and caught in the rapids.

    Then he heard his father’s voice. “It’s dangerous. It’s a waste of time. You need to learn to do useful things.” His father was very fond of useful, practical things. The swing over the river wasn’t useful. Fun, yes, but not useful. His father hadn’t understood fun.

    He positioned himself as far back as he could, to get the most momentum. “What do you think now, Dad?” he muttered, and launched himself over the river.

    He didn’t have time to think. He just reacted. One moment he was hanging from the rope, and the next he was dropping toward the water. He had time for just one thought: This is the biggest thrill I’ve ever experienced. I’d do it again in a heartbeat.

    Sheldon felt somewhat different. He only caught glimpses of the kid in the river. He thought he wasn’t close enough to the far bank. Then he saw him crawling out on the rock. He had come up against the rock–barely.

    At that moment all the kid could think was: Too bad I can’t tell my dad. Some useless activity!

    (This story has been submitted to the One Word at a Time Blog Carnival: Swings, though I think it’s mildly off track for that!)