take it on the road

“People have an idea that the preacher is an actor on a stage and they are
the critics, blaming or praising him.
What they don’t know is that they are the actors on the stage;
he (the preacher) is merely the prompter standing in the wings,
reminding them of their lost lines.”

Søren Kierkegaard


(ready for the first road trip to visit Moppie and Poppie / 2018)

Often times, we are required to leave the shelter of our wombs…
the warmth and protectiveness of a familiarity we have grown accustomed to cherish.

Because we have been called…to go.


(Uncle Percy is a bit perplexed by this new visiting neice/ Julie Cook / 2018)

“It was strictly forbidden to preach to other prisoners.
It was understood that whoever was caught doing this received a severe beating.
A number of us decided to pay the price for the privilege of preaching,
so we accepted their [the communists’ ] terms.
It was a deal; we preached and they beat us.
We were happy preaching.
They were happy beating us, so everyone was happy.”

Richard Wurmbrand, Tortured for Christ

Sometimes we are called to go to places we’d rather not go.
In order to share with those who have not heard or do not know
that which we do know…

And we must speak to them about that which we know and they do not know
because it is what we are called to do…

I learned about Pastor Richard Wurmbrand when I was early on in high school.
I ordered the book, Tortured for Christ.

I’ve written about Wurmbrand before…

“Pastor Richard Wurmbrand (1909—2001) was an evangelical minister who endured 14 years
of Communist imprisonment and torture in his homeland of Romania.
He is widely recognized there as one of the country’s greatest Christian leaders,
authors and educators.”

The knowledge of the scourge of Communism, along with its anti-Christian hatred,
during the midst of the Cold War, only heightened my interest behind the story
of Pastor Richard Wurmbrand—-
his preaching, eventual arrest, tortures, rearrests, more tortures, solitary confinement…
all of which left a deep impression upon me.

I don’t know if I could go, live, share and do as those who have each suffered so grievously
at the hands of their tormentors—only to continue on, day after day..offering hope and love
to those very ones who tormented and tortured…all because of the calling and the love…

I think of Father Maximilian Kolbe who also knew to go and to share…
sharing all the way to Auschwitz…and who would continue sharing even unto his own death…

How many have gone and shared long before all of us, only to offer the ultimate offering?

Our prayer is that we might all have the courage to go, to do, to share and to say
when we are called to do so…
no matter how great the cost…

https://www.persecution.com/founders/

For the word of God is living and active, sharper than any two-edged sword, piercing to the division of soul and of spirit, of joints and of marrow, and discerning the thoughts and intentions of the heart.
Hebrews 4:12

lost in translation

“The word ‘translation’ comes, etymologically, from the Latin for ‘bearing across’.
Having been borne across the world, we are translated men.
It is normally supposed that something always gets lost in translation;
I cling, obstinately to the notion that something can also be gained.”

Salman Rushdie

“Live the questions now. Perhaps then,
someday far in the future,
you will gradually, without even noticing it,
live your way into the answer.”

Rainer Maria Rilke

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(detail of an Irish manuscript and cover of Timothy O’Neills book The Irish Hand, Scribes And Their Manuscripts From The Earliest Times–as seen in a Kinsale Bookshop, Kinsale, County Cork Ireland)

Ce que tu ne comprends pas?
Lo que no entiendes?
Was Sie nicht verstehen?
あなたは何を理解していません ?
ما لا تفهم ?
Wat begrijp je niet ?
מה אתה לא מבין ?
что вы не понимаете ?
Quello che non capisci?
Nach bhfuil cad a thuigeann tú ?

No matter the language, the question remains the same…
“what don’t you understand?”

It is a question asked of the confused, the lost,
the ignorant, the arrogant as well as the simple.

“Is there some confusion?”

“Do you need for me to re-explain something?”

“I’m sorry, did I not make myself clear?”

“You’re not from around here are you?”

“Are you a moron?”

The way in which the question is asked pretty much explains to the one asking the question whether or not their query is worthy of further explanation or has simply exasperated the one being questioned.

It can even be issued as a defiant statement rather than a question.

As in…

“yeah, you see it, it is what it is…what don’t you understand?!”

Sometimes I feel that way…
as in the frustrated way of things….

As in…
“Yes.
God did say not to do that.
Or
“Yes.
God did say that was okay.”

It’s all pretty simple.
Pretty much cut and dry.

Have you ever had to sign a contract or a legal document?
Have you ever taken the time need to fully read…
or the legal ability in order to comprehend all the fine print?
Has a salesperson or legal type person ever asked, “what don’t you understand?”
With you pretty much resigned to the answer being simply “everything?!”…

God gave a list of some pretty simple commands…
or rather rules for living if you will.

A concise list of don’ts.

Pretty simple.
Pretty direct.
A relatively short list.
With no hidden fees.
No hidden clauses.
All in simple language.
No legalese.
No gobbledygook.

Just very straightforward…

Oh, and by the way, where there were no fees involved,
there were / are penalties with each broken “law”

But they were set to make life easy.
Follow the rules, the laws, and life was to be pretty much… golden….

Later, His Son came along and offered a few more to the list…
This time there were actually a few additions in the affirmative…as in “do this”

Things like…
Loving your God with all your heart, mind, body, and being…
Secondly… love your neighbor as yourself.
Do unto others as you would wish others to do unto you.

Again straightforward with a direct approach.
Nothing buried in the fine print.

There were also a few more don’ts and do’s added to the list.
Don’t have sexual intercourse or anything close with those of your same sex.
Don’t do things in excess…like drink or eat, or…you name it.
Don’t neglect those less fortunate
Do take care of widows and orphans
Do remember those in prison.
Do show mercy.
Do show kindness.
Do show compassion.

All simple.
All direct.
Rules for living—in order to make the living…golden.

Yet over time, everyone has wanted to complicate the simple.
Muddy the waters.
Argue the point.
Defy the point.
Create fine print.
Throw in some hidden agendas and clauses.

And I just want to look at everyone with that exasperated look saying….
“What don’t you understand??????”

A fool takes no pleasure in understanding, but only in expressing his opinion.
Proverbs 18:2

Making your ear attentive to wisdom and inclining your heart to understanding; yes, if you call out for insight and raise your voice for understanding, if you seek it like silver and search for it as for hidden treasures, then you will understand the fear of the Lord and find the knowledge of God.
Proverbs 2:2-5

knowing when is when

“I have been impressed with the urgency of doing. Knowing is not enough; we must apply. Being willing is not enough; we must do.”
― Leonardo da Vinci

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(the spent and deadheaded geraniums / Julie Cook / 2014)

I probably would never make a very good farmer, master gardener and I’m now worried about my becoming a small potatoes chicken farmer, but more about that later.

“Huh?”, you shrug.

You know the whole mindset of cutting away in order to make way for bigger and better–well that’s a tough call for me. It’s the fine art of knowing when is when.

Now I can do the whole deadheading thing—as in when a flower is spent and fading fast, wisdom tells us to cut away the dead and dying in order to promote more growth and flowering.
That one is a no brainer.

However when it comes to pruning a tree or shrub, a tree or shrub that is by all accounts healthy and happy, that’s when things start to merge over to the grey side of decision making.

I totally get the whole symmetry thing, as I’m all about some symmetry, but when faced with the proposition of cutting away this or that healthy branch in order to foster taller growth or to prevent future troubles, as in falling limbs, etc— that’s when and where things start to get dicy.

Add to that the seedling issue of a garden and I’m toast.

The instructions on the packet read:
Plant 4 to 8 seeds in hill (I’ve never understood the whole hill thing, but I mound hills up every year– God forbid the one year we opted not to “hill”– the squash and zucchini were not as prolific or healthy. . .so my husband now swears by the “hill” effect)
Space hills 4 ft apart.
Thin to 3 to 4 plants per hill.
Keep fruit picked for longer production.

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Ok I more than understand the whole pick the fruits and vegetables on a timely basis concept, as that pretty much is the whole point of planting—as in picking and eating. . .but it’s this business of planting 8 seeds then pulling up, killing, destroying and throwing away 4 healthy ones—leaving 4 others to remain in the hill, which gets me.

I certainly like to think I’m a “waste not want not” kind of girl.
Is it just me or is planting double the number of seeds than one actually needs– not the most thrifty or economical plan?
I suppose one of the leading reasons for this plethora of seed planting would be whether or not all the seeds germinate. Perhaps it’s the safety in numbers concept or more like there’s a guarantee in numbers.
Or perhaps the school of thought here is for the really thrifty minded among to pull up those “throw away” seedlings and replant them on a new mound. But who has time or room for that added adventure? All my “hills” are full.

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(we had a real gully washer night before last so our soil is saturated / these are the squash seedlings, with 4 unsuspecting little ones waiting for their preselected death)

This year I even tried my hand at planting tiny seeds in tiny little starter cups. Look at all those future carrots—who by the way were also soaked by the torrential downpour from the heavens above—Which just may mean that all little carrots, leeks and red swiss chard may have drowned, saving me from the decision of deciding who stays and grows or who goes to the compost grave.

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I think it all must boil down to some sort of predisposed decision making, sans emotional attachment, process that I failed to receive at inception. I cannot for the life of me not feel badly or torn for the seedlings I choose to discard. My mind races with thoughts of how the little plants could / would grow into beautiful plants with succulent vegetables. How could I ever choose who lives or who dies—I’m certainly no Caesar with that whole thumbs up thumbs down sort of thing.

Happily I acquiesce the painful duty of plant selection to my more cold blooded husband. Without a single thought or agonizing internal argument, he simply bends down and plucks and plucks until the proper healthy number of plants remains. No real thought process or internal struggle or personal dilemma on his part—just merely pulling up a couple of extra plants here and there.

The moral of this little tale, which we are all now wondering and hoping will come to light. . .would be that some of us have an innate sorting ability while others of us–not so much. As Leonardo has so aptly reminded us. . . it’s not enough that we “know” what must be done, the important matter is that we must apply that knowledge, we must do what it is that we know we must do.
It is the action side of knowledge that is important.
And as far as gardening is concerned, that can be a matter of life and death—-oh dear, even writing that down has me torn.
No matter, for if you’ll excuse me, I must go pull weeds. I’ve certainly got no problem there.
I can pluck and toss a weed any ol day.
Happy weeding!