Winter and Bookish Goals

 

Happy 2025! I hope this new year has treated you well and you're feeling a good start to the best month of the year, in my opinion. Here's why:

Winter goals

Winter is here and I could not be more delighted! These are the days I dream about all year. I know, call me crazy. In fact, when I woke up a few days ago and it was 36 degrees Fahrenheit, I promptly sat down at my desk and wrote this poem (after I put on a sweater and made a cup of coffee of course):

Oh! wake the morning frosty cold -
If I may be so bold
I don't have to be told
That the glorious Winter is here
In an air so crisp and clear
With the dawn and sun near
My heart awakens to wonder
It sets my mind to ponder
And encourages my feet to wander.
With nicks of cold at my face
I call it a blessing and grace
To enjoy cold walks in this place.

To say I enjoy the cold weather is a bit of an understatement - saying that probably results in some glares. Certainly it's the unpopular opinion. But hey, we all have things that we like that others don't. And everyone who knows me well, knows that I am smiling without even trying on cold days that are accompanied by a greyscale sky. Ahh, yes, it's the perfect combination to get to work with reading and getting cosy with coffee/tea! Which leads to my next point: 

Bookish goals

I don't set book goals for myself. I want to read at my leisure as much as I want and not feel pressure to hit a certain number. I read a lot, so I am not concerned that I won't read "enough". Plus, I sometimes read very long books that take a lot of time, effort, and pages to get through, yet it still only counts as one. I feel a bit of the Legolas and Gimli competition in The Lord of the Rings, when Legolas and he are in a competitive game of keeping track of their numbers as they kill Orcs during the siege at Minas Tirith, when Legolas takes down a huge elephant with all the deadly men on top, taking them all out,  Gimli sees it and shouts "that still only counts as one!"

I read 82 books in 2024. It's a bit astounding to me because January - March I was studying full time (all my spare time outside of work) for my big exam I took in March, so that took out a lot of reading time.

My longest and shorted books:

Some of my top books from new reads this year (not including any re-reads):

I keep coming back to this beautiful collection of the Psalms, written in lyric poems by the brother-sister Mary and Philip Sidney. Extremely talented poets in their English Renaissance time (1580s). These Psalms were passed around in manuscript before they were officially published in the19th century, and praised by John Donne and George Herbert, arguably two of the best poets. The way they work with language is worthy of study of what good poetry is, such as:
The sacrifices sacrify
Of just desires, on justice stayed
Trust in that Lord that cannot lie.
Indeed full many folks have said,
'From whence shall come to us such aid?'

Simone Weil was an amazing, brave French Christian philosopher who died so young during WWII (she joined the suffering and starved). This is a book of spiritual wisdom, left in notebooks that were published after her death. They are short snippets of insights that one can ponder for years, such as:
"God could create only by hiding himself. Otherwise there would be nothing but himself. Holiness should then be hidden too, even from consciousness in a certain measure. And it should be hidden in the world."

A new book that came out about Tolkien's Catholic faith by Holly Ordway. I loved learning more about how devoted he was, and how he incorporated his faith in his life, especially life in Oxford including conversations and experiences he had with others. His faith is not much talked about, as he didn't write "theology books" even though this study shows so clearly how infused his faith is in all his writings, so I deeply enjoyed this book for more depth and appreciation of Tolkien.

How have I not read this biography before now? Don't ask me. It was sitting on my shelf when I purchased a used hardback from Blackwell's probably 8 years ago. I picked it up and realized I had not read it, and got to it right away With Hooper and Green's personal stories and relationship with Lewis, this was hugely enjoyable and insightful on Lewis's life, especially in Oxford.

A different way of looking at saving and spending (for retirement) - why wait until you are too old to enjoy life or gift to your children? Do it now, while you can, when you can enjoy it and when your children are younger and can use and enjoy it, with the caveat to be sure your retirement is set-up for goals needed first. Really good fodder for having financial conversations. Build up memory dividends that will pay out to you the rest of your life.

Fascinating journey around the world visiting abandoned places, natural and man-made, leftover from wars, disasters, or left behind for other reasons. Forbidden places. Haunted places. Places where humans no longer live. How has nature taken over? What can we learn from these places? Full of interesting encounters with places humans dare to go.

A purposefully offline journal, only available in print. Essays old and new. Thought-provoking and topically curated. I love these beautiful hardback journals - there are four out so far. I have two of them. I thoroughly enjoyed reading this every morning.

Ending and Beginning

 

Rising on the last day of the year, and rising on the first day of the year encourages some reflection. Thankfulness always rises to the top with each year, reflecting on the blessings that I did not deserve, and to me I feel that to those who receive much, much is required. Meaning, I feel the responsibility to use my gifts well, for good. To hopefully do good, create good, and be a blessing to someone, even if only in a small way. As always, during Advent and Christmas I read the poetry anthology from Malcolm Guite Waiting on the Word. Somehow I am enjoying it even more than previous years, and I ask myself why. I realize that I have felt less stressed and anxious this year. I take in moments and appreciate them, noticing the details of a moment. Taking a moment to linger. When I allow myself that space I am filled with peace and calm. Giving myself that clarity of time to ponder. To let words sink in, perhaps as if for the first time.

The poem for the last day of the year was Thomas Hardy's "The Darkling Thrush", and it's a beautiful year end reflection on the gloom of the world suddenly turned by the sing-song of a Thrush choosing to "fling his soul upon the growing gloom". Oh, so beautiful, I love that. I will aim to fling myself upon the growing gloom everyday.

Against the darkness this Thrush sings, when the frost is "spectre-grey" and the land has features that resemble "His crypt the cloudy canopy, the wind his death-lament".  Infinite hopelessness. No germ of bloom to come or light to shine. It's a desolate feeling of dread and gloom at the end of the year (Hardy wrote this poem on December 31, 1900).

But then the song is heard, and the final stanza-

So little cause for carolings
of such ecstatic sound
Was written on terrestrial things
Afar or nigh around,
That I could think there trembled through
His happy good-night air
Some blessed Hope, whereof he knew
And I was unaware. 

To Hardy, who turned his back on faith, this is even more hopeful. As he catches a glimpse of joy amidst dark gloom you can't help but wonder if he followed that trail of light to see Christ as the source of all joy and truth. The hope reflects that joy - when one can be filled with joy even whilst dwelling in darkness, grief, or gloom. The joy with Christ is not dependent on any of those things of the world. It dwells within us through all things - it is the darkling Thrush that never stops singing the tune of the heavenly realm we often block ourselves from hearing/seeing. It's there, but do we choose to not to attend to it, only seeing the dead year, the dread and threat, and completely ignore the light that sits there singing amidst it all, knowing that what is right there is not all there is. There is more beyond what we can see. Much more is around us - song and presence. Do we not entertain angels unaware? Lingering in the mist, near the cracks of gloom, all is riven to the glory of God, hidden from those who will not see, who choose not to see.

Welcome 2025!

Winter Star

My Christmas morning drive to the family's house was met with beautiful rays of the rising sun breaking through greyscale clouds across the lake. It held a beauty in the stillness and radiant contrast of dark and light. Now, the merry Christmas days fold into the end of year days, still in the midst of winter, still in the mindset of Christmas, which does continue until Epiphany. May Christmas last within us long after the decorations get put away. 

Winter Star

Slow the pace for days ahead
Call to a deep within you
Cherished hours of dear time spent
Coloured in shades brilliant in hue.
Sparkle and light, oh bright night!
Illuminated by planets and stars,
Glimpses of ancient prophesy
Comes down to where we are.
Journey with a star, follow its path,
Rise where it leads, quicken your pace,
Create space for the coming king,
Lowly, unexpected; the plan of grace.

Music on Christmas Morning

 

When I was growing up, Christmas morning was always a magical time - all the anticipation had been building for the good news of great joy, and the night before we celebrated with a candle-lit service at church where the story was shared again, along with singing the old hymns with modern voices. Then with the delivery of gifts under the Christmas tree, comes another delivery into our world. He came down to us, as an infant and gentiles (Magi) travelled from far to worship him and offer gifts. I had always wondered why we give gifts as a child, and this answered that pondering. As Lancelot Andrewes wrote in his Christmas sermon of 1622 that he preached in front of King James:

Christ was made poor to make us rich, and so ‘offering gifts’ comes very fit.  There now remains nothing but to include ourselves, and bear our part with them, and with the angels, and all who this day adored Him.  The Magi were Gentiles. So are we. We are to ‘go, and do likewise.’ We cannot say ‘we have seen His star’; the star is gone long since, not now to be seen. Yet I hope for all that, ‘we come to worship.’ [Let] the same day-star be risen in our hearts that was in theirs. For then it will bring us whither it brought them, to Christ.

The Magi followed a star, and may we do the same, though it be risen in our hearts not in the sky. We also are part of the Christmas story today, all these centuries later. In our small ways, we propel the story forward in our participation. 

As the rush of pre-Christmas settles down to Christmas Eve and Christmas, may there be a quiet rising of the star in your heart, something deeper sinking in as the love of God rises.

And on Christmas morning, we can hear the music and hear the words with deeper meaning, from old days of tidings and joy.

I've been reading through the Brontë sisters' poems lately, a lovely book my friend gave me. Anne's Christmas poem stuck out to me as a new favourite, as one I have been reading several times as we lead up to Christmas. 

I'll let Anne's wondrous words lead us into the these Christmas days. Merry Christmas!

Music On Christmas Morning

Anne Brontë

Music I love—but never strain

Could kindle raptures so divine,

So grief assuage, so conquer pain,

And rouse this pensive heart of mine—

As that we hear on Christmas morn,

Upon the wintry breezes borne.

Though Darkness still her empire keep,

And hours must pass, ere morning break;

From troubled dreams, or slumbers deep,

That music KINDLY bids us wake:

It calls us, with an angel's voice,

To wake, and worship, and rejoice;

To greet with joy the glorious morn,

Which angels welcomed long ago,

When our redeeming Lord was born,

To bring the light of Heaven below;

The Powers of Darkness to dispel,

And rescue Earth from Death and Hell.

While listening to that sacred strain,

My raptured spirit soars on high;

I seem to hear those songs again

Resounding through the open sky,

That kindled such divine delight,

In those who watched their flocks by night.

With them I celebrate His birth—

Glory to God, in highest Heaven,

Good-will to men, and peace on earth,

To us a Saviour-king is given;

Our God is come to claim His own,

And Satan's power is overthrown!

A sinless God, for sinful men,

Descends to suffer and to bleed;

Hell MUST renounce its empire then;

The price is paid, the world is freed,

And Satan's self must now confess

That Christ has earned a RIGHT to bless:

Now holy Peace may smile from heaven,

And heavenly Truth from earth shall spring:

The captive's galling bonds are riven,

For our Redeemer is our king;

And He that gave his blood for men

Will lead us home to God again.

Merry Festive Reading

 

Merry festive reading to you!

Do you have any books on your reading list for this time around Christmas? Ones that you want to read - or re-read each year? 

Still on my list I'd like to re-read in the coming week or two include A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens, of course, the absolute classic and the book that is credited with infusing into culture the ways we celebrate Christmas, even today. Also, The Nutcracker by E.T.A. Hoffmann. Last year was the first year I read The Nutcracker, and I think it will be one that I want to read each year.

Until those books are re-visited, here are the ones I have already been reading. I embracing the season with the good books that bring me right into the snowy and wintry landscapes, cheer, and mystery.

Jane Austen's Christmas - The Festive Season in Georgian England, edited by Maria Hubert

Traditions from the time of Jane Austen, with excerpts from her novels, her letters to and from family,  recipes, poems, and other letters and diary entries to get a sense of that time period and how they celebrated. Games families played were quite different from what we might consider today - such as apple bobbing. Isn't that a Halloween thing? Recipes are also quite interesting to read (and not try out, I am not so brave).

I loved learning more about the Twelfth Night Festivities, such traditions we do not even talk about today - from the last evening of Christmas to the Feast of Epiphany (when the wise men visited). Would you like to play Snapdragon, which involved popping raisins into your mouth from a bowl of flaming brandy?  You'd have a bowl flaming and reach your hands in to grab a raisin. Yes, this was a children's game. Popular from the sixteenth century. Maybe after you have some bullet pudding. 

Winters in the World, Eleanor Parker

I am re-reading this one, all the Winter sections, as it does travel through the seasons from the Anglo-Saxon world. It's absolutely delightful and fascinating to me. The literature, poetry, beliefs, traditions, and language. Winter is an invading force that comes quickly into their world, taking the world by storm, so to speak. The language finds beauty in all things about the turning year. We see the seasons changing and the importance of how it shapes their world. In a time that depending on the weather for survival, harvests, and livelihood, they paid such close attention to the gifts of each season.

After (All Saint's Day) comes Winter's Day, far and wide,
six nights later, and seizes sun-bright autumn
with its army of ice and snow,
fettered with frost by the Lord's command,
so that the green fields may not longer stay with us,
the ornaments of the earth.

The Wood at Midwinter, Susanna Clarke

Susanna's newest book, a short story beautifully illustrated. A fantasy tale inspired from myths and stories of saints. It is another crossover kind of story, like Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell, where the real world and the world of fairy intertwine, and characters cross over. Strange indeed, and though provoking. A young girl gives up everything to raise a baby cub. In doing so, attempts to heal a brokenness between the natural world and man.

As Susanna writes in her afterword "In my own writing I had become fascinated by characters who are bridges between different worlds, between different states of being, characters who feel compelled to try and reconcile the unreconcilable."

The World of Xmas

 

We live in a world of Xmas.

Once upon a time in a parallel world imagined by C.S. Lewis (or simply an observance of our own world), we lived a preparatory period of 50 days leading up to a festival of Xmas. This festival made out to be a fun and happy time, but had requirements like filling the shops to buy gifts and cards for every person you know, or half-know, weary and exhausted, but as part of the sale adverts you must follow the trends and get gifts that are popular and wanted by all. Which means fighting crowds at the shops. It's a whole rushed experience because you are pushed around the long halls of shopping malls in pursuit of the sale.

This means, of course, you're quite emptied in spirit and in wallet, and have loads on credit cards to foster such purchases, and as we approach the main event, you're exhausted and irritated, so you spend half the day of the event in bed and/or your pajamas, trying to recover from overeating, overspending, and overdrinking. But that's all part of the event festivities encouraged.

Yet another event, a holiday is celebrated the same day, called Christmas and it is kind of the opposite of Xmas, in which the folks who celebrate wake early, dress nicely, and attend service joy-filled and focused on worship of one they call Creator. A story is told of a baby born and the young mother is seen as blessed above all women, yet she's in a dirty barn with her baby and receives unexpected visitors who travel from afar and have vastly different approaches to living. They want to bring gifts or sit there in adoration of the baby. The light shines brightly on Christmas as the Light has come into the world.

Yet, collide these two events do, on the same day. One affects the moment, a fleeting time of pleasure followed by regret of overindulging in various ways, and the other is never lacking and always filled to the brim with an everlasting joy not able to be purchased with coupons clipped. With one, we are glad when its over as we are already wearied of all the "things" and seek to shut it all away as soon as possible. While the other seeks to celebrate for a few weeks after the official event, seeing how it is possible to accept a gift that adds joy more and more the longer you follow. A weariness doesn't come. The light doesn't fade.

For Exmas and the Rush distract the minds even of the few from sacred things. And we indeed are glad that men should make merry at Crissmas; but in Exmas there is no merriment left. 

"Xmas and Christmas" by C.S. Lewis

Family, Freindship, and Jane Austen

 

She professed a love of Books without Reading, was Lively without Wit, and generally good humoured without Merit.

- from "Kitty, or the Bower" by teenage Jane Austen

The air in our region is sun-filled and chilly. The bite in the wind is delightful, perfectly Autumnal and welcome to usher in the season of gatherings and holidays. I don a sweater and smile. Wearing layers and sweaters and jackets makes me so happy. I look for time to take walks when the weather is like this. Eager to enjoy the best time of year in these parts. I make lattes and endless cups of tea with weather so charming. As we prepare ourselves for the holidays, and the coming Thanksgiving festivities with family this week, I have been deeply amused by some of my reading. Who doesn't need some amusement? 

You know the name of Jane Austen. How much have you read of hers? I daresay you haven't dipped into her teenage writings. Here we get a taste of what she was playing around with. Language, family dynamics,  social drama, escapades. Jane is a great source for us of the domestic life around 1800. She often wrote a tale for a family member, a brother, niece, etc. They all allude to jokes and are meant for that person. In these stories often set-up as letters, she assembles little worlds of the everyday social atmosphere. We all know about needs and expectations of family and friends, well, she mixes those into a tale dealing with fortune, family, marriage, and status. These tales are a bit messy and repetitive. They don't follow much of a storyline sometimes. They hold a bit of a dramatic flair in quite funny ways (note: I am keeping all the capitalization and spelling as Jane Austen wrote, she consistently wrote her "e" before "i" rather than "i" before "e" becoming a bit of a hallmark of her teenage style, for example "freindship", "beleive", "veiw", etc) - -

When the Ladies returned, their amazement was great at finding instead of Eliza the following Note.

"Madam"
     "We are married & gone."
                        "Henry & Eliza Cecil"

Her Grace as soon as she had read the letter, which sufficiently explained the whole affair, flew into the most violent passion & after having spent an agreable half hour, in calling them by all the shocking Names her rage could suggest to her, sent out after them 300 armed Men, with orders not to return without their Bodies, dead or alive; intending that if they should be brought to her in the latter condition to have them put to Death in some torturelike manner, after a few years of Confinement.

 Ahh, yes, who wouldn't want to be part of this family? I chuckle often. Reading her "The History of England" in kings and queens is so sarcastic; it's very funny and so worth reading. These are glimpses of the more mature Jane Austen to come in her well-known novels, mixing wit within the social constructs of her time. Reading these I can even see hints that expand into her future writings. 

Do you ever feel like you need to decline that nosy new acquaintance who wants to intrude on your life, and aren't sure how to put them in their place with respect? Don't worry, Jane Austen's got your back. 

"My dear Miss Grenville said I, you appear extremely young - & may probably stand in need of some one's advice whose regard for you, joined to superior Age, perhaps superior Judgement might authorise her to give it - . I am that person, & I now challenge you to accept the offer I make you of my Confidence and Freindship, in return to which I shall only ask for yours - "

"You are extremely obliging Ma'am - said She - & I am highly flattered by your attention to me - . But I am in no difficulty, no doubt, no uncertainty of situation in which any Advice can be wanted. Whenever I am however continued she brightening into a complaisant smile, I shall know where to apply."

I bowed, but felt a good deal mortified by such a repulse...

This is from a short section simply "Collection of Letters". Remember next time you need some advice on how to deal with some nosy folks, turn to Jane Austen. She may offer some Georgian rejection and humor to get you through it. 

Attention Reading!

 

Read not to contradict and confute, nor to believe and take for granted, nor to find talk and discourse, but to weigh and consider. Some books are to be tasted, others to be swallowed, and some few to be chewed and digested; that is, some books are to be read only in parts; others to be read but not curiously; and some few to be read wholly, and with diligence and attention.

- Francis Bacon (1561 - 1626)

This passage from an essay of Bacon's could be the topic of an entire debate, I feel. Those bookish people could gather in a room and discuss their views on the different kinds of reading. With the amount of stellar books to read, with such a variety of writing styles and depths, I certainly agree, and implement myself, different ways of reading. Part of the kind of reading depends on what you seek from the book. Do you seek to learn, gain perspective, research, or be entertained? Those require different types of reading attention. I read slowly when I seek to learn, I read very fast when I am just seeking entertainment. My attention level is greatly increased when I am going to write about it later with significant depth. 

Do you dip into books? Do you read every page? Does it depend on the book?

My most abundant conversation is with books.

- Seneca, Letters on Ethics

Seneca wrote a collection of letters with advice as a mentor to a young man, frequently referencing books and encouraging more reading to learn about ethics and improve oneself. When you are reading are you having a conversation with the book? How do you have that conversation? I have a pen at the ready, marking paragraphs, underlining sentences, making notes in the margins, and sometimes arguing with the author in the margins. 

The idea is to have a dialogue, think about what you are reading. Do you agree, or not? Why? What insights or truth is being portrayed?

Wake a meaning, rather than convey a meaning.

- George MacDonald

This idea is so profound and so prominent in MacDonald's books. The first time it came to my attention it revealed remarkably how God can speak to us when we are properly woken up - it changes the way we see things. The ideas of sleeping and waking is also evident in Scripture where we are told - wake up oh sleeper, and stay alert and awake for His coming. Keep watch. Stay alert for the Lord's coming. Be mindful. All these reminders of staying awake. It makes me think of how much of us sleep through our daily lives, not alert, not engaged, and not even thinking about anything. This reminds me to read deeply to be awakened to the true, deeper meaning in good books.

Milton the Poet (not the hurricane)

 

We said goodbye to Milton the hurricane over a month ago, with gladness to be parted from its influence.  Milton the poet we also said goodbye to 350 years ago, and yet to this day welcome his influence. So, let's appreciate and visit with John Milton, the poet. 

You are likely familiar with the epic poem, Paradise Lost, published in 1667 by a bookseller Samuel Simmons in London. John Milton lived during a time of civil war in England, the Restoration of the Monarchy when Charles II came to the throne. Anti-Catholicism was the norm, and John Milton was a traditional protestant who believed in free will and freedom to choose our eternal destination. If Adam had not been free, he might have been like a puppet, Milton had said. Made in the image of God, man was, but with the freedom given to humanity.

You may have read this in school or sections of it, as it's exemplar poetry, along the lines of Homer and Dante. Epic, grand, world altering scenes told through (in Milton's case) unrhymed verse (English heroic verse without rhyme aka: iambic pentameter) that tells the heroic-type story of the fall of Adam and Eve. But the story doesn't begin with them, even though it is immediately alluded to in the opening lines:

Of man's first disobedience, and the fruit
Of that forbidden tree, whose mortal taste
Brought death into the world, and all our woe,
With loss of Eden, till one greater man
Restore us, and regain the blissful seat

The story then flows into a scene of hell, with the first views for Satan as he arrives, along with his fallen comrades who have been thrown out of Heaven. Satan is extremely displeased to discover where they are, in a place of torment and despair. But he rallies his followers, that persuasive and prideful stature of Satan; he stands tall and commits that hope is not lost. They can reclaim heaven by waging eternal war to conquer the grand foe, and cause utmost despair unto God. Satan and his mates swear:

To do aught good never will be our task,
But ever to do ill our sole delight.

Satan says he is equal to God. He believes God just has the power, which he can choose to overthrow (pride is the biggest deceiver). He refuses to let the tyranny of heaven rule him. But what should their next action be? They have a council meeting to discuss the options for how to wage war against Heaven and make their reign secure.

Here for his envy, will not drive us hence:
Here we may reign secure, and in my choice
To reign is worth ambition though in Hell:
Better to reign in Hell, than serve in Heav'n.

Satan is a motivational speaker, rousing his followers as they jump up to join him in the rally. They determine that some new creation is coming, with beings that God is creating, and that can be the source of revenge. So we begin the tale of Milton's cosmos, where Heaven sits on top of the Chaos which is below. Before we even get a glimpse of God or His Creation to come, we see the behind the scenes situation of Satan and his fall. This sets up the scale of our whole story and how cosmic is truly is.

I seemed to have timed my re-visit with Milton perfectly to align with the celebration of his death 350 years ago. Milton's only surviving home, called Milton's Cottage, located outside of London, was the cottage where he lived and wrote the epic Paradise Lost. Milton's Cottage held a 24 hour Miltonathon - where volunteer readers read through the corpus of his works. How amazing is that? To watch and listen to readers from around the world, starting in England, over to America, Canada, New Zealand, Japan, and back to England. I dropped in as much as I could. I listened to Milton being read out loud while I did chores, while I made some lunch and dinner, and while I waited for my tea to steep. Delightful. 

If I could suggest, I think we need more occasions to read poetry and prose out loud to each other. Not as a special occasion only, but as regular evening activity, like long ago was the normal entertainment of the evening to provoke further, deeper discussion on such questions that might be raised by such great works as this one. The beauty of the poetry, the sound of the words, the story unfolding, and the experience with one another. 

Noise - Noise

 

From The Screwtape Letters, by C.S. Lewis. Letters written by an experienced demon to a younger one, instructing him in ways to tempt and draw souls to hell.

My Dear Wormwood...

    Music and silence - how I detest them both! How thankful we should be that ever since our Father entered Hell - though longer ago than humans, reckoning in light years, could express no square inch of infernal space and no moment of infernal time has been surrendered to either of those abominable forces, but all has been occupied by Noise - Noise, the grand dynamism, the audible expression of all that is exultant, ruthless, and virile - Noise which alone defends us from silly qualms, despairing scruples, and impossible desires. We will make the whole universe a noise in the end. We have already made great strides of Heaven will be shouted down in the end. But I admit we are not yet loud enough, or anything like it. Research is in progress. 

Screwtape is instructing his nephew in the ways of pulling souls into hell (seemingly) on their own accord. The art is taught in temptation, distraction, noise, and self-satisfaction. Frequently Screwtape encourages Wormwood to nudge souls into the selfish thinking, and to make them be proud of their "humility". So often the pride rises to overtake any ounce of goodness. These twisted ways of thinking can sweep us into disturbed state, and yet this is the battle that is going on for our souls every day.

Prayer is powerful. It deflects the forces of the Satan. We are not powerless. Most importantly God hears our pleas, no matter if they are formed in words or murmurs of despair. May this week be a time of prayer for our country, as we enter into the election week and the uncertainty that will unfold. 

I rebel against the noise everyday. My (ideal) evening is an image of quiet and silence in a simple, typical evening. A mug of tea, a book, legs tucked onto my chair. Stillness, quiet, thinking, praying, reading. Deep breaths. 

May we look toward the Lord of all things, who rules everything under the sun. Render unto Caesar the things that are Caesar's, and yet remember who is the ruler of Caesar? Our Father in Heaven. God is above all things. 

Romans 13:1 - Let every soul be subject unto the higher powers. For there is no power but of God: the powers that be are ordained of God.

And may there be attention given to good music, and not to all the noise that is trying to grab our attention:

HERE and HERE and HERE and HERE