Remember When . . . The People Rallied?

Real quick--today I've posted on Go Teen Writers about  what an editor at a publishing house really does. Check it out if you're curious! http://goteenwriters.blogspot.com/2012/05/what-does-editor-do-anyhow.html

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 I'm nearing the end of my War of 1812 research, and several times I've been amazed at how the British commanders totally misunderstood the American spirit. They thought from the start that if they could just convince the Americans to turn on each other, if they could discourage us, then we would turn on our own cause and join theirs instead.

Boy, were they wrong.

I got my first chuckle when I saw how a good ol' Maryland summer wreaked its havoc on the out-of-condition British troops, who had spent far too long on board their ships and hadn't made an attempt to get back in shape upon landing, thinking it not worth the effort, more or less. The march toward Washington, made in 95 degree August heat--which means humidity that would have made it well over a hundred--felled more men than our troops did. Seasoned British veterans later said this march was the single worst time in their careers. (Oh yeah--go Maryland summers!)

We all know, of course, that they made it to Washington. To be sure, the British were a little baffled as to why it was left all but defenseless. But for our part, we couldn't understand why they would make the effort to take a city of absolutely no strategic importance.

The answer? The British command wanted to hit us where it hurt. Burning Washington was meant to be a sucker-punch, meant to break our fighting spirit. But even their own people back home shook their heads when they got the news of the attack, one member of Parliament saying Britain "had done what the Goths refused to do at Rome." He was echoing a London paper that had written, "Even the Cossacks spared Paris, but Englishmen spared not the capital of America."

The British commander--hating America because his father had died at Yorktown in the Revolution--had crossed a line. And rather than break us, it made every individual American realize this war wasn't against a nebulous idea of country--it was against them. For the first time, many citizens understood that our government couldn't succeed without their support.

The burning of Washington achieved what no amount of pleas from our military commanders had been able to--it made the war hit home, and made it personal. In the week following, men volunteered by the thousand, and people finally determined that they would not suffer the British actions.

The British were in for another lesson too--that our government doesn't rely on one location. Within two days of Washington's burning, Congress and the Cabinet were back together and in action. 

And boy, were we ready for action! =)

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On a totally unrelated note, my watermelon cake. It was in some respects a total fail--the back completely fell apart as I iced it. But I hid the damage in a clever display (somewhat anyway) and got a couple decent pictures. And my grandmother, whose birthday we were celebrating on Memorial Day, got a kick out of it. (My grandparents own a produce farm, so...)

Word of the Week - Veteran

Since it's Memorial Day, I thought I'd take a look at some appropriate words. =) I know I did "memorial" last year, though, so today we're going with "veteran."

I was a bit surprised by how old this one was for some reason. Since 1500 it has carried the meaning "old experienced soldier." It's taken from the French vétéran, which is in turn from the Latin "veteranus," which means, simply, old. (Sorry, all you vets out there! LOL) Of course, "veteranus" is from "vetus" which also means old, derived from a bunch of really ancient languages in which similar words mean "year."

That kind of surprised me, since its only history is attached to age and not to service. But there you have it. By the 1590s it had taken on the meaning of anyone experienced with any position, moving from noun to adjective by 1610.

But no matter where the word comes from, I certainly want to take today to thank all those men and women who have served our country, who have fought for our freedom. All those who have given of themselves for a noble cause.

And now, go enjoy your holiday. ;-) I'm off to bake a watermelon-shaped cake...

Thoughtful About...For Them

On Sunday, several families in our home school group got together to celebrate our wee ones' graduation from kindergarten. My friend Paige put together an amazing ceremony and party, and it was a wonderful, heart-warming time. (Though Xoë was doing a combination of 1st and 2nd grade material this year, so we had rarely thought of her being technically in kindergarten, LOL.)

When we arrived, Paige asked if I'd like to say anything during the ceremony about the school year--I hadn't considered this so kinda shrugged. Giving a speech wasn't really on my "Yes, I must do this!" list. ;-) But when it came that time of the ceremony and all the other moms started saying a little something, when I saw the bashful grins on the cute little faces in the front of the room, I knew that wasn't going to fly. I knew if I kept quiet, in my comfort zone, then Xoë would be upset. She would wonder why her mommy hadn't said anything about how great she was. She would feel...less.

Obviously, Mama couldn't have that. ;-) But it was an interesting realization, and one that reminded me again of why so often God uses the analogy of parenthood to help us understand Him and faith. It's the kind of selfless love, the kind of just-for-you thinking that the Lord demonstrates so perfectly and that we can only occasionally live up to. The kind of love that makes one do what one wouldn't necessarily want to do, if it were a matter of wanting.

But it isn't, is it? With love, it's something way bigger than mere wants. It's when ultimate will for the good of the one you love takes precedent over smaller desires. That's the kind of love that led God to grant prayer after prayer for mercy when justice demanded action. The kind of love that makes Him remember His promises even when man doesn't. And ultimately, it's the kind of love that resulted in Him sending Jesus to Earth for us, isn't it?

As I sat there and watched my precious little girl enjoy this milestone with her friends, when I saw her beautiful smile as I told everyone about the things I so appreciate about being her teacher--hearing the insightful questions she asks, the beautiful stories and pictures she comes up with, and the incredible honor of being the one who gets to talk to about all these things with her--I had to thank the Lord for the amazing gift of family, of kids. And of His love, that teaches us how to appreciate them.

Remember When . . . the Images Were Cool?

Remember when Roseanna got fun new software? I'm too excited about it not to share the fun images I've been creating the last two days. =) So today we're just having a nice little gallery show... (and hey, they're all historicals, so I'm still technically keeping to my "remember when" theme, LOL)

 

 

 

Word of the Week - Plant

Every time we go to my mom's we see the power plant across the river--and every time, my kids ask, "Why's it called a 'plant'?" And every time, I go, "Uh . . . " At one point I made up an answer--and what do you know, I was right! LOL

  

Plant is from the Latin planta, meaning "sprout, shoot, cutting" which may be from plantare, "to drive in with the feet, push into the ground with the feet." Which is in turn from planta, "sole of the foot." By 1550 it moved from its first English meaning of "shrub or newly-planted herb" to any vegetation. The verb "to plant" has been around since Old English, just like the noun.

Now, the building--it is fact from the same idea, meaning a building planted in a particular area for industrial purposes. That usage came into meaning in 1789. And interestingly, the meaning of "a spy" is from 1812. =)

Thoughtful About . . . Seeking Us

Every pause to think about how God goes out of His way for us? It's really kind of baffling--and something I think a lot of us tend to ignore.

I've been reading Acts (in two different ways--both in my daily reading and in my daughter's school reading), and that's been jumping out at me. In the Gospels, people sought out Jesus. But in Acts, Jesus seeks out them.

Saul on the Road to Damascus

Seriously--Saul on the Damascus Road. Ananias and Saul. The eunuch and Philip. Peter and the Roman. The list goes on and on. People whose hearts were primed and ready . . . and a message from the Lord telling someone "Go, talk to this guy. He needs to know about Jesus."

Wow, just got goosebumps. I mean, I tend to think in terms of the Lord leading us where we need to go, yes, but in more subtle ways. Ways more easily written off as coincidence by those who don't believe. But there's nothing subtle about this. Time and time and time again in this founding days of the church, God speaks audibly. Visions happen regularly. Jesus himself gives instruction. Angels visit. And why?

Because people were ready and needed to know about Jesus. Because the guards of the prison needed to believe. Because it wasn't time yet for the great preachers to be silenced. And so God went out of His way---He sought those who were seeking Him.

People today tend to teach about this with a disclaimer usually phrased as wishful thinking. Who hasn't heard, "Wouldn't it have been amazing to see those miracles? I sure wish they happened in the modern church...." "Wouldn't it be awe-inspiring to see an angel? Not that I ever expect to...." "Well, the Lord doesn't usually speak that clearly, but you can learn to understand Him...."

The Ethiopian Eunuch and Philip

True, we can. But I've undoubtedly said before that we only see what we believe is possible, that our doubt limits the workings of the Spirit. And why should we doubt that the Lord still cares that much about each addition to His church? He hasn't changed. Just because it's spread and grown doesn't mean it matters less. Why should we never believe that dreams can be visions? After all, when can God speak to us better? And why in the world should angels visit all through history then stop now?

My words for the year were "Thirst and Savor," but I'm beginning to think that a big part of that process is "Be Amazed," LOL. Because time and time again, with everything I've been reading, God's been tapping me on the shoulder and saying, "Look. See how much I love you? See how much I care about the little things? See how far I'll go to touch the hearts that yearn for me?"

Are we yearning? If so, then don't be surprised when He meets us. In ways we might expect, and in ways that make us, like Peter, think it only a dream until we come-to in the streets outside our prison. 

And let's listen. Let's listen for that voice saying, "Rise up, beloved, and go out--I've sent someone to you. They're expecting to hear about Me from your lips." Let's be like Ananias, who may be thinking, "What, him? That guy that has hurt so many of us?" But who says, "Here am I, Lord."

Here am I. Here are you. And here, praise be to Heaven, is He.

Remember When . . . We Crashed into the French?

I mentioned in a post last month that I was excited to be given permission to write a novella that will be used as a promotional freebie between Ring of Secrets and its sequel, tentatively titled Mask of Truth. This one is set in the days leading directly to the French Revolution, and now that I've given myself a crash-course in research for it, I thought it would be fun to talk about some of the differences I've discovered between the French system of the day and the English (which I know a whole lot better!) =)

For starters, the whole class system is set up a bit differently. In England we have the Peerage, which consists of all folks titled, below which is the slew of gentlefolk who trace their linage back to the Peerage but have themselves no title. Titles in English are bound up by strict law--family estates are usually tied to them, and there's no wiggle room without an act of Parliament. It goes to the eldest male in the paternal line, and that's that.

"The Triumph of the Third Estate"

In France, however, we have Estates. The First Estate is the king and the church. The Second Estate is the host of nobles--and this, unlike England's, isn't a closed system. Rich folks could occasionally buy their way into the noble class, and if you were born into it, you stayed in it, whether you yourself had a title or not. I even read that quite a lot of people pretended to have a title, going by "comte" (count/earl) whether they deserves it or not, LOL. Then there was the Third Estate, made up of the commoners who were, throughout history up to this point, terribly neglected and oppressed by the nobles who controlled almost all aspects of their lives.

And while we're on the subject of titles, I found it totally bizarre that the title itself isn't capitalized in French, just the "where" part of it--so it isn't le Comte d'Ushant, it's comte d'Ushant. And rather than answering to "my lord" or "my lady," these nobles were just monsieur and madame and mademoiselle--which is why even those titles were banned during the Revolution and everyone was just "citizen."

Robe a l'Anglais

But the funniest thing is the fashion. Up until this point, French fashion was all the rage all the world over, and Marie Antoinette was a fashion icon. But as the queen spent more time with her children and less in the public eye, fashion shifted. Out were the exaggerated plumes and beads and gems and curls, and in came the simple styles a l'Anglais--in the English fashion! There's even a report of a woman attending a ball in a manly riding habit *gasp!*

I'm not quite as immersed in the setting as I would be for a full-length book, but I'm certainly having fun with my clashing English and French. =) Of course, all this is just the backdrop for my charming young French noblewoman, my handsome and noble-spirited English military officer, and my dastardly French duc. Mwa ha ha ha! ;-)

Now back to them I go!