I have a real fondness for the Puritans. They got so many things right that we moderns need to learn. If you haven’t read The Worldly Saints by Leland Ryken, then I recommend it to you as a great place to start to learn about these remarkable people.
Take for example this quote by Richard Sibbes: “Worldly things are good in themselves and given to sweeten our passage to Heaven†(p. 59). You don’t hear too many Christians today saying that worldly things are good in themselves. We either feel guilty for owning the world’s goods, or we justify owning them as long as we don’t get too much enjoyment from them. The Puritans were not afraid of the world; they knew full well that Jesus is Lord of all.
I particularly like the way this is put, that possessions are given to us by God to sweeten our passage. My wonderful big soft bed certainly sweetens my passage. And my car has a button I can push to warm up the seat (a very sweet deal on cold winter mornings). My coffee maker will grind the beans if I want it to. And my shower is just glorious. Not only does God give us these unmerited blessings, He likes us to enjoy them.
What could be more fun than a writing contest? Answer: One that gives out copies of Nate’s books as a prize. The topic is “How can magical stories help young people grow spiritually or build character?” Check it out for your kids.
I remember winning second prize in junior-high for an essay on soil conservation. This one sounds like lots more fun….all I got was a red ribbon.
MuggleNet also ran another review we like, this time of Dandelion Fire.
I nearly forgot all about hedgerows. They are everywhere in the countryside and seem to do the duty of the fence or boundary or barrier. Right now they are brown and scruffy looking, but come spring, they will be a fat and bushy green. We went to Bath (pronounced bah th) today and on the way I was reminded of how much I enjoy them. You see them outlining the pastures and fields, and I can’t help but wonder how old some of those hedgerows are. Do they ever die? The stories they could tell!
A good friend here in Oxford who grew up in Bath made an observation that I now see is quite true. She said that Bath is lovely, and Oxford is interesting. After visiting Bath today (the amazing ruins of the Roman baths, with the Abbey very significantly towering over them, the Pump Room, the Crescent, etc.) I see exactly what she means. Oxford is very serious business indeed: colleges and churches and the martyrs’ monument. Very impressive. Bath has long been the site for leisure and is obviously all about good shopping and relaxing the eyes with the beautiful bathstone buildings and, of course, Jane Austen. What could be lovelier!
I’ve only visited Oxford a few times now, but I confess to a growing fondness for this place. First is the way the sun seems to shine brighter (when it comes out from behind the clouds, which hasn’t been very often on this trip). It appears to hang differently in the sky and so the shadows are longer and the light seems brighter. The tree trunks are green, covered with what must be a thin layer of moss. (I can see how fairies and the green man could fit in nicely here.) The birds sing a different tune here, with an English accent no doubt. But last year when we were here, they had more to sing about: the sun was shining and the daffodils were up.
And who doesn’t adore the wonderful English knack with place names? One of the Merkles’ favorites is referred to on the highway as the Wallops: Upper Wallop, Lower Wallop, and Nether Wallop. Another choice one is Toot Hill Butts (right up the street from them). There’s Bicester, which is pronounced Bista. Names like that do make Moscow sound like a bit of a dud. The language really is glorious. Music to the ears. They spell jewelry funny too: jewellery. No kidding.
This place seems to me to be a bit like visiting your great-grandmother. She is familiar, but has some old-fashioned ways, some closely guarded family treasures, and many stories she keeps to herself unless you can coax them out of her. Here at Oxford you might stumble on to one of those breath-taking family treasures at any moment when you turn a corner and wander through an old gate smack into something splendid and ancient. And ancient doesn’t mean two hundred years old…..but rather six or seven hundred years old.
Drinking tea seems entirely appropriate, just like it would be if you were visiting your great-grandmother. She may not have modern appliances or up-to-date plumbing, but her china is lovely and her conversation sparkling. Each year when we return home, I determine to drink more tea, but it is never quite the same as it is here. I always prefer coffee at home.
One last thing I love about this place is this view from Bekah’s kitchen window. Isn’t this a cheery spot?
The story goes that C.S. Lewis was in attendance at a chapel service at Brasenose College, got bored with it, and slipped into a cupboard (what we call a closet) where the vestments were hanging. He found a door in the back of this closet, opened it, and stepped into an alleyway where he was greeted by this very lamp post. And it was snowing. On an adjoining building are two fauns carved into the stone facade. (If you look to the left of my head and up a bit, you’ll see one.) This is a spot of his sublime inspiration. So here we are, snow and everything, in Narnia.
We were greeted in the UK by a load of snow! What a wonderful thing for the kids, and they didn’t have to be told what to do with it. It’s a bit of a dirty looking snowman, but I am especially fond of his cowboy hat loaned to him by Knox. We are here to visit the Merkles, and what a lovely trip it has been so far. Bekah took me grocery shopping this morning, and I got a few packages of mallow tea cakes and hobnobs to take home in my suitcase for the Moscow grandkids. I would be in bad form if I showed up without them!
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