tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-76526596727296171682024-03-05T00:20:01.581-05:00Writing RoseannaWord of the Week (some interesting etymology to start out your Monday) * Remember-When Wednesdays (FYI on historical eras) * Thoughtful Thursday (plain old musings) * And special announcements, features, and book reviews on Tuesdays and Fridays!Roseanna Whitehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02245767775900250399noreply@blogger.comBlogger1834125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7652659672729617168.post-17661385329788641272020-06-29T05:30:00.000-04:002020-06-29T05:30:06.903-04:00Word of the Week - Fence<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Originally posted in May 2015</i></span> <br />
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So, duh moment. Did you know that the noun <i>fence</i>--like, you know, the thing around your yard--is from <i>defense</i>?
Yeah. Duh. I'd never paused to consider that, perhaps because the
spelling has ended up different, but there you go! It has been a
shortening of <i>defense </i>with the same meaning since the 14th century. Then sense of that enclosure followed in the 15th century.</div>
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It had a similar verb meaning at the same times too, with the "to sword-fight" way of defending oneself arising in the 1590s.</div>
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But the reason I looked it up was for the meaning that has a <i>fence</i> being someone who buys and sells stolen goods...and <i>to fence</i>
being to sell those stolen goods. I expected it to be a pretty modern
use, but no! As the verb, it's been around since 1610, and it was then
applied to the person doing it right around 1700--all from the idea that
it's accomplished under "the defense of secrecy."</div>
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Roseanna Whitehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02245767775900250399noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7652659672729617168.post-27207055880532542472020-06-22T05:30:00.000-04:002020-06-22T05:30:01.208-04:00Word of the Week - Field Trip<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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This is another revisit...and since we were all sheltering at home for the last months of the school year, one that we're probably all thinking about with longing. ;-) Coming at you originally from <i>May of 2015</i>, when Rowyn was only 7 and Xoe was 9, which of course gave me all the "awwww"s when I saw the picture I had in this one, from the year before that. ;-) (Still not sure how my babies are now going into 7th and 10th!)</div>
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~*~</div>
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Since someone asked me about this over the weekend, I figured,
hey--already looked it up, might as well share! ;-) Especially
appropriate since this is our last week of school. Oh yeah. Right about
now the kids are mighty glad we didn't take a bunch of snow days! ;-)<br />
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<i>Field trip</i> comes from the idea of <i>field</i>...not as in "an open piece of land, often cultivated" (which dates from time immemorial) but from the idea of <i>field</i> being a place where things happen. This is a slightly newer meaning that began evolving in the 1300s. (I said <i>slightly</i>
newer, not new, LOL.) By then it could mean a battleground. And by
mid-century, a "sphere or place of related things." By the mid-1700s
people would refer to <i>field-work</i> as anything that took one out of the office or laboratory and into the world, where things take place.<br />
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<i>Field trip</i>, then, is a natural extension of this meaning. It's a
trip into the field, going out of the classroom and into the world where
the things you've been learning about can be found. Though an
actually-new phrase (from the 1950s), it has its foundation on a nicely
aged idea. =)</div>
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<tr align="center"><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">My kiddos on a field trip to a one room school house in 2014. Rowyn would be the lonely boy in the boys line, LOL, and Xoe is the one in teal and purple. (No, shockingly, not the one dressed in period attire, LOL.) They had a blast that day, and Xoe even won the little spelling bee!</span><br />
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Roseanna Whitehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02245767775900250399noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7652659672729617168.post-41616310811562637422020-06-15T05:30:00.000-04:002020-06-15T05:30:03.275-04:00Word of the Week - Grapevine<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-size: xx-small;"><i>Originally published June 2015</i></span></div>
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We've all heard it through the grapevine (and some of us might break
into song at the mere mention...), but do you know where the saying
comes from?</div>
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I didn't--but I learned recently so thought I'd share. =)</div>
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<i>Grapevine</i>, meaning "a rumor" or "information spread in an
unconventional method," comes from the Civil War era South. The
"grapevine telegraph" was much like the "underground railroad."
Metaphorical and secretive. Just as the latter wasn't a real railroad,
but a term to refer to the secret movements of runaways, so the
"grapevine telegraph" referred to spreading information on the down-low,
rather than using the <i>real</i> telegraph. And so <i>grapevine</i> is a shortening of that--a way to spread information without using typical means that could be tapped or overheard.</div>
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Roseanna Whitehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02245767775900250399noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7652659672729617168.post-25052217233577823602020-06-08T05:30:00.001-04:002020-06-08T05:30:02.782-04:00Word of the Week - Salary and Salt<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQziU91t5fX-8OMFuLYDk5eJ_QT2dR1ig5VIH3jYA1KMIDrlxa98TYwCrlNFoxN5S14pYG04DfHXrXRHkPnnRIeQZm9S1tZNWW8388ZXVfhQW86X9GU5nms_Ik_e37KmqxBuMgF-hZ/" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="315" data-original-width="560" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQziU91t5fX-8OMFuLYDk5eJ_QT2dR1ig5VIH3jYA1KMIDrlxa98TYwCrlNFoxN5S14pYG04DfHXrXRHkPnnRIeQZm9S1tZNWW8388ZXVfhQW86X9GU5nms_Ik_e37KmqxBuMgF-hZ/w640-h360/Salary+%2526+Salt.png" width="640" /></a></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Leave it to my daughter to lean over in the middle of church and whisper, "Word of the week!" during the sermon--which is exactly what happened when my dad shared this fun little tidbit. ;-)</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Did you know that <i>salary</i> is from the same root as <i>salt</i>? <i>Salary</i> has meant "wages, compensation" since the 13th century, and the word comes from the Latin <i>salarium</i> (same meaning), which is closely linked to <i>salarius</i>, "of or pertaining to salt." Some sources say it's because a soldier's salary was considered to be spent <i>on</i> salt, and others say that sometimes wages were even paid <i>in</i> salt. Either way, salt is such a necessary and, historically, valuable item that it's no wonder it's linked so closely to money in our words!</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">And I'll admit it . . . I've spent a fair bit on salt over the years. I have a cabinet full of different varieties, which I occasionally find very amusing. Especially when I find a recipe that calls for one I don't yet have. Gasp! My favorite: a variety of Cornish seasoned sea salts.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Do you have a favorite or rare kind of salt in your kitchen? <br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPvx8uy_kwVXFOtUysHCmGPK2S7lnpWOAH3oujfk3dk6oGEQutSuLw8bAbBey_Rq2QgNouaQpgIwxRwTy5yYBMTTJ7HBfFS3Ud5qHE-SQuiC_xcLfJvls64OB46KachCtS6nB01jTq/" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="384" data-original-width="576" height="133" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPvx8uy_kwVXFOtUysHCmGPK2S7lnpWOAH3oujfk3dk6oGEQutSuLw8bAbBey_Rq2QgNouaQpgIwxRwTy5yYBMTTJ7HBfFS3Ud5qHE-SQuiC_xcLfJvls64OB46KachCtS6nB01jTq/w200-h133/Roseanna.png" width="200" /></a></div>Roseanna Whitehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02245767775900250399noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7652659672729617168.post-14200252308113409492020-06-01T00:00:00.000-04:002020-06-01T00:00:00.401-04:00Moving!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Hello, lovely readers!</div>
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I'm going to be taking this week off the blog...and will be migrating it to my website. So if you're visiting right now, you may see a few hiccups as I get everything transferred. But after that, it should (I hope and pray!) all just go automatically there. Say a prayer for me, LOL.</div>
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Thanks for your patience!</div>
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Roseanna Whitehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02245767775900250399noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7652659672729617168.post-4826157025528509052020-05-28T05:30:00.000-04:002020-05-28T05:30:06.615-04:00Thoughtful About . . . Encouragers<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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At the time of writing this (the weekend before it posts), I'm sitting with my laptop at the kitchen table while my husband's comfy in our leather armchair, reading <i>The Nature of a Lady</i> before I have to turn it in on June 1. I'm so very blessed to have a honey who supports my writing--not just because he makes sure I have ample time to actually write, but because he does <i>this </i>too. He reads. He chuckles. He talks to me about the characters and settings and themes as he reads. And, most of all, because he encourages me.</div>
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There are many different things we artistic types need, right? We need the critics (I guess, LOL), who keep us from becoming complacent. We need the editors, who help us ratchet up tension, smooth out writing, and cut away any excess to make our stories <i>more</i> our stories by helping us really dig down to the heart of them. We need the audience to interact with our creation and show us where it resonates and where it doesn't. But we also need someone like this. We need encouragers. </div>
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<b>Okay, that's not just for artistic types. We <i>all</i> need encouragers.</b></div>
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At this point, six little days before I turn in my manuscript, I don't need someone telling me it's all wrong. I need someone who frequently laughs over one of my characters' witticisms and says, "I love your writing." I don't need someone who says, "Wow, you're going to have work more on this part." (Even though that might be true.) I need someone who says, "Oh, I see what you're doing. This one line might be too on-the-nose, but that's clever." I need someone who not only believes in me, but who celebrates each little victory with me. I need someone who, even amidst mistakes and weak parts, has complete faith that I can do what needs to be done.</div>
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We can never over-sell the importance of someone like that in our lives--and especially concerning the thing we feel called to do. The thing God's led us to. The Hard Thing we're working on.</div>
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Because when we're in the trenches--on the mission field, in hour twelve of a hospital shift, two weeks from the end of a school year, or a week away from a due date--sometimes we forget the big view, right? We forget the <i>why</i> of what we're doing. The <i>how</i> and the <i>that</i> are just so overwhelming sometimes. We can't really focus on the purpose, because we're so caught up in the details.</div>
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And when we're doing the thing God called us to do, we're going to have troubles too. The Enemy is going to be trying to tear us down. To stop us. To make it seem too hard, not worth it. All around us, we're going to find those who discourage us. Those who say we're crazy for even trying this thing. That we should have done something safer. More logical. That we should look out for ourselves more and others less.
That we're not even that good at the thing we've put our hand to.</div>
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But let's take a minute just to look at these words: encourage, discourage. What's the root? (Didn't know you were getting a bonus Word of the Week post, did you? Haha.) COURAGE. <i>Encourage </i>actually means "to put heart or courage into." And <i>discourage</i>, of course, then means to take it out.</div>
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So why do we ever listen to the voices of discouragement? Why do we let people take our heart? Why do we ever entertain those voices, when by definition they're harmful to us? Maybe we've done something wrong, maybe we've messed up, maybe we're not the best we can be--but we don't improve by letting our heart, letting our courage be taken away. We improve by strengthening our hearts.</div>
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I've been blessed to be surrounded by encouragers in my life. And I'm hereby renewing my determination to be one too. My challenge to all of us this week is to speak encouragement into someone's life. Maybe it's your spouse, your child, your sister, your mom. Or maybe it's your pastor, a teacher, or the cashier in the checkout line. Whoever it is, wherever it is, if you see that shadow of discouragement in them, speak against it. When you see their heart faltering, offer something to strengthen it again.</div>
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Because we, as children of God, are not called to steal anyone else's heart, to discourage their calling, or to be the storm cloud in their life. We're called to encourage, to edify, and to support one another. And when we do that well...well, watch out, world. The Church will be on the move!</div>
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"Therefore comfort each other and edify one another, just as you also are doing."</div>
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I Thessalonians 5:11<br />
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Roseanna Whitehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02245767775900250399noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7652659672729617168.post-2841867582274201062020-05-25T05:30:00.000-04:002020-05-25T05:30:06.785-04:00Word of the Week - Sit, Twiddle, and Twirl<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<i><a href="https://roseannamwhite.blogspot.com/2012/09/word-of-week-sit-twiddle-and-twirl.html"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Originally published on 9/3/2012</span></a></i> </div>
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Today I'm going to examine the origin of a particular phrase rather than a particular word. 😉 Back in the day when I originally examined this, as I was working on <i>Whispers from the Shadows</i>, my hero was exclaiming something about how it was time to take action himself, since those who ought to be continued to...</div>
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Sit on their hands?</div>
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Twiddle their thumbs?</div>
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Do nothing, but that was far too boring an option for his current state of mind. So Roseanna headed to <a href="http://www.etymonline.com/">www.etymonline.com</a>. 😀<br />
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I was somewhat surprised to find <i>sit on one's hands</i> in the
listing, because, well, I figured "sit" would have about a thousand
idioms associated with it and didn't know if that would make the cut.
But in fact, it was one of the few they included. And it certainly wasn't around in 1814, when <i>Whispers</i> takes place. No, <i>to sit on one's hands </i>comes from the notion of doing so to withhold applause and originated in 1926. Not until the '50s did it get extended to "do nothing; be
idle."<br />
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So Thad certainly couldn't be accusing the politicians of sitting on their hands. What, then?</div>
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The next phrase to leap into mind was <i>twiddling their thumbs</i>. Here I got closer. <i>Twiddle</i> is from the 1540s, when it meant "to trifle." But the notion of <i>twiddling one's thumbs</i>, i.e., having nothing to do, didn't emerge until the 1840s. Closer, closer. But not <i>quite</i> there.</div>
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But in the entry for <i>twiddle</i> was the earlier phrase that <i>twiddle one's thumbs</i> replaced--<i>to twirl one's thumbs</i>. Ah! Fun. Enough of a variation to sound old-fashioned to us, but still recognizable. And from . . . 1816.<br />
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At first sight, argh. Because that's two years past my date. But then I remembered that etymonline.com uses the first <i>written </i>appearance (because what else could they possibly go on?) and in those days, a phrase usually appeared in writing several years after it had entered the common spoken vernacular. So I decided that was close enough, and my up-to-the-minute hero could well be using a newfangled,
popular phrase that his father would be less likely to try out. 😉<br />
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And so a few key politicians in Washington City are <b><i>twirling their thumbs</i></b>. And Thad has decided it's time to do himself what they refuse
to... <br />
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Happy Memorial Day, all! Enjoy some idle time today. Sit on your hands for a
while, guilt-free. Or better still, pick up a good book. 😀<br />
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Roseanna Whitehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02245767775900250399noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7652659672729617168.post-43010432199506904372020-05-21T05:30:00.011-04:002020-05-21T05:30:00.176-04:00Thoughtful About...The Compassion Conundrum<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqAc7uR4qb0YRo-GmsTWOTTI2st7FZwVP6ZA0dcqR5g7MpD0uyYa47x1rORBSnkwhY637RN1nLokAw8FHOkzVu_vCrWGMzU54CO9XMGyKRmdIy-zxZ82pa9M28i_MjTG5ErJgOsxX_/" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="380" data-original-width="590" height="412" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqAc7uR4qb0YRo-GmsTWOTTI2st7FZwVP6ZA0dcqR5g7MpD0uyYa47x1rORBSnkwhY637RN1nLokAw8FHOkzVu_vCrWGMzU54CO9XMGyKRmdIy-zxZ82pa9M28i_MjTG5ErJgOsxX_/w640-h412/The+Compassion+Conundrum.png" width="640" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div><span></span><span></span>In last weekend's sermon, my dad preached from Luke 14, and as he went through the Scriptures, something interesting jumped out at me.<span></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">First is something that has struck me many times before, in many different passages. Jesus, often about some other task, comes across someone in need. Sometimes He's at dinner. Sometimes He's traveling. Sometimes He's on his way to heal someone else. And what does He always, inevitably do when He sees this other hurting soul? He stops. He heals them. Why?</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Because He loves them. Because He feels compassion for them. Because He's moved.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXcLT2AKYjcmDnYmQz1Q1TW81eZsaP89Q9YpfNdOvah0trcwYK7zAChyphenhyphenfI89c2CKQ-P20QD1eW1mjzHGwzTIbFSyCgK4XIgGfePAO53mC6fPsGjBl6OQ_eqN5qN8FQx78CwdT4n3hQ/" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1281" data-original-width="1920" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXcLT2AKYjcmDnYmQz1Q1TW81eZsaP89Q9YpfNdOvah0trcwYK7zAChyphenhyphenfI89c2CKQ-P20QD1eW1mjzHGwzTIbFSyCgK4XIgGfePAO53mC6fPsGjBl6OQ_eqN5qN8FQx78CwdT4n3hQ/s320/heart-700141_1920.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>I tend to think of these things as human emotions--and they are. But I wonder if maybe they're also the reflection of the Divine in us. Because Jesus, operating solely as man, might have instead resented the distraction or the complication or the delay. If He weren't perfect, He might have rolled his eyes or grumbled or even muttered under his breath, "Seriously? Another one?" But He doesn't--ever. Because these things--love, compassion, empathy--are considered virtues, are in fact the Fruit we're supposed to bear as believers, for good reason.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">They're a reflection of God himself, who is Love.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">But we see another side to this too, in that same chapter as well as other places in the Gospels. The places where Jesus warns us that the cost of following Him is high. When He tells us that choosing this Way means abandoning others--that embracing God as Father may mean a break with our earthly one. Where He says that He will come between mother and child. And here, He even says that following Him means hating your family (or "loving them less" as the word means in Greek).</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">I've long since reasoned out that what He's saying here is that He has to come first. Loving God before anything else is crucial. And if we love other things more--our spouses, our kids, our extended families, our house, our things, our <i>life</i>--then He may well ask us to give those up. Because nothing--NOTHING--should come between us and Him.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Here's the interesting twist though. How do we show our love for Him, how do we reflect His love for us?</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">By loving, serving each other.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">You see the conundrum? LOL. We have to love what is OURS less than Him...so that we can love what is HIS without reservation. Now, there are surely overlaps--because our spouses and kids and parents and cousins are His too.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">But am I willing to serve <i>only</i> them in certain ways? Will I take the food from another child's mouth to give it to mine? Do I consider these people in my life <i>more</i> mine than His? To do so is natural. Human.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">To not do so is, I think, divine.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkSZAt-hQYLdyo02LrrY_mZjdB2nlDmlQ_cmH-6P4BgeS8WqgH_J07Ld13XGzVKUieUTkAK36gaxDF1nWnjw7nfVte8Iq7uyXWvDYEG9mznZDjs1Gkm7GYhiYWQauwS2Exm77qFGp_/" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1440" data-original-width="1920" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkSZAt-hQYLdyo02LrrY_mZjdB2nlDmlQ_cmH-6P4BgeS8WqgH_J07Ld13XGzVKUieUTkAK36gaxDF1nWnjw7nfVte8Iq7uyXWvDYEG9mznZDjs1Gkm7GYhiYWQauwS2Exm77qFGp_/s320/heart-1288420_1920.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>Don't get me wrong--God created families, and they're a crucial part of His plan. He calls us to protect them and preserve them and keep them in good order, as building blocks of His Church. But He also calls us to define "family" through His eyes. To see mothers and fathers, sisters, and brothers everywhere there is faith in Him. To love the stranger, the neighbor, as much as we love ourselves, our own. To prove our love for Him by loving them.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">I tend to hold my emotions close, my thoughts and fears, tight. I am, as the English of eras gone by would have said, "reserved." But I'm praying that God will work on my heart in this way. That I will learn to make myself vulnerable so that I can see friends--brothers, sisters--everywhere I turn.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">And so that when I see them hurting, I can't help but stop. And do everything in HIS power to make them whole, with no thought to myself.</div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">Maybe it's not a conundrum after all. Just a challenge. One He put forth oh so succinctly. <i>Love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, with all your mind. And love your neighbor as yourself.</i><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPvx8uy_kwVXFOtUysHCmGPK2S7lnpWOAH3oujfk3dk6oGEQutSuLw8bAbBey_Rq2QgNouaQpgIwxRwTy5yYBMTTJ7HBfFS3Ud5qHE-SQuiC_xcLfJvls64OB46KachCtS6nB01jTq/" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="384" data-original-width="576" height="133" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPvx8uy_kwVXFOtUysHCmGPK2S7lnpWOAH3oujfk3dk6oGEQutSuLw8bAbBey_Rq2QgNouaQpgIwxRwTy5yYBMTTJ7HBfFS3Ud5qHE-SQuiC_xcLfJvls64OB46KachCtS6nB01jTq/w200-h133/Roseanna.png" width="200" /></a></div></div>Roseanna Whitehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02245767775900250399noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7652659672729617168.post-49137724747364685962020-05-18T05:30:00.000-04:002020-05-18T05:30:01.212-04:00Word of the Week - Nauseous<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<i><span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="https://roseannamwhite.blogspot.com/2012/10/word-of-week-nauseous.html"><br />Originally published 10/15/2012</a></span></i><br />
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Okay, y'all, I originally posted this seven and a half years ago, and my call for actual evidence to support the claim below netted me nothing but others who were curious, LOL. So I'm trying again--because this claim has since even appeared on <i>Big Bang Theory</i>, touted by Sheldon. So, seriously, people. Someone defend the claim, or I shall be forced to call Sheldon a liar. 😂</div>
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So here's the deal. I've heard from quite a few sources that we moderns are misusing the word <i>nauseous</i>. That it ought not to mean "to feel sick or queasy" but that it rather means "to cause a feeling of nausea."</div>
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Now, I've heard this from sources I trust, but they never <b>quote their sources</b>, and I'm now on a quest to figure out why in the world this is touted as grammatical fact and, more, as a "modern mistake" when every dictionary I look it up in says that <i>nauseous</i> has carried both meanings ("to feel sick" and "to make sick") since 1600-1610.</div>
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One dictionary I found says "careful writers will use <i>nauseated</i> for the feeling of queasiness and reserve <i>nauseous</i> for 'sickening to contemplate.'" I'm okay with being careful, really I am, but I'm still unsure why grammarians are saying that using its original meaning is "a mistake of the moderns." It is, in fact, the first definition of the word in the OED.</div>
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So. Calling all grammarians! 😉 If you learned it this way and could point me to a source (not just an expert like the wonderful Grammar Girl, mind you) that states this as fact, I would be very grateful. I don't mind changing my ways to be a "careful" writer--but I'm a <a href="http://www.sjca.edu/" target="_blank">Johnnie</a>. I don't ever accept an expert's opinion without checking out their sources. 😉</div>
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Roseanna Whitehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02245767775900250399noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7652659672729617168.post-89427951400714969512020-05-14T05:30:00.001-04:002020-05-14T05:30:01.139-04:00Throwback Thursdays - The Joy<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<i><span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="https://roseannamwhite.blogspot.com/2014/03/thoughtful-about-joy.html">Originally posted 3/6/14</a></span></i></div>
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I've blogged several times over the years about JOY. What it is, how it's action and choice and not emotion, how it compares to happiness. In some ways, this post from six years ago started it all, so I thought we'd do a revisit. =) </div>
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Last week the small Bible study group I belong to began a study focused around James. I've always loved this little book of the Bible, so I was pretty happy to learn that's what we would be studying. My hubby's leading us this time, and I know he has always loved James too. We had a great discussion centering around this:</div>
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"Consider it joy when you fall into various trials, knowing that the testing of your faith produces patience."</div>
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I memorized this verse as a teenager. I've known it for years. I think about it fairly often. But I'd never examined it like we did on Friday. <i>Consider it</i> comes from a verb that carries a lot of weight. It doesn't just mean "name it." It doesn't just mean "say it is, whether you think it or not." It means to dwell on it, to journey through it, to arrive at it, to bring it to joy. It's a process, one that involves our minds.</div>
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Another key word there is <i>when</i>. Not <i>if</i>. <i>When</i> we fall into trials. We're going to, that's not a question. In this world, trouble and sorrow find us no matter whether we're wicked or righteous. (On a side note, I've also been reading the book of Job, and the commentators have been stressing how Job's assertion that a good man could suffer like he is flew in the face of the Wisdom doctrine of the day.)</div>
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Which led to another good point in our discussion, when one of our friends related how someone had just that day asked, basically, "But <i>why</i>? Why do bad things happen to good people?"</div>
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It's an age-old question. Such an age-old question that I'd pretty much stopped considering it and figured everyone else in the world had too, LOL. But obviously it still bothers people. It was pretty silly of me to think otherwise. Because yes, we always ask why. We always ask what we did to deserve a bad turn. We always get angry when someone we love is hurt or dies, or when we do everything right and still seem to be punished. When we lose our jobs. When we suffer injury or illness. When, when, when...</div>
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But something hit me while we were talking about that. Not a new thought, I'm sure, but a striking one.</div>
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How are we defined, if not by how we react to those trials? What makes us who we are if not whether we stand or fail in the face of adversity?</div>
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It isn't about bad things happening to good people. Bad things happen to <i>everyone.</i> It's how we respond to them that makes <i>us</i> good or bad.</div>
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("Good" and "Bad" probably aren't the right words there, actually...)</div>
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See, life isn't about being happy. That's part of it, and obviously a part we love. But joy is something more. Joy isn't about circumstances. If it was, then how could James have possibly told us to consider trouble and trials a joy? It would be insensible.</div>
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But joy is that something-deeper we can arrive it. It's that knowing that, even when we don't <i>feel</i> it, God is good. That even when we're in the valley, the mountain top is waiting. That even through the pain, there's Someone holding us and loving us.</div>
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Joy is finding the beauty in the clouds of the approaching storm (inspired by that photo above I took at the beach last summer). Joy is knowing that when something is yanked out from under you, it's because God has a different plan. Joy is in the journey of trusting Him, that long road where you learn so much. Joy is in looking back and realizing that if that terrible thing hadn't happened, you wouldn't be who you are today.</div>
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Joy is in trusting that day will come even when you're still in the terrible thing.</div>
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Joy isn't easy. It isn't supposed to be. But the things worth fighting for are just that--<i>worth fighting for</i>. We need to fight for our joy. We need to stop focusing on the things this instant-gratification world tells us will make us <i>happy</i> and start focusing on what will make us <i>better</i>. On what will make us <i>stronger</i>. On what will make us raise our hands and praise Him through the storm.</div>
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You know that phrase we sing to that hand-clapping, upbeat melody? <i>We bring the sacrifice of praise...</i></div>
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It's a sacrifice. That means it's hard. It's rough. It's supposed to <i>hurt</i>. That's what praise is. Praise is giving Him that shout when we don't feel it. When we can't understand it. When the questions are bigger than the answers.</div>
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Praise is considering the joy. Considering <i>it</i>--that trial, that trouble--a joy.</div>
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Nope, it's not easy. But that's what makes it beautiful.</div>
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Roseanna Whitehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02245767775900250399noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7652659672729617168.post-34271790624552273402020-05-11T05:30:00.000-04:002020-05-11T11:14:51.704-04:00Word of the Week - Mean<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<i><span style="font-size: x-small;">Originally posted 8/20/12</span></i><br />
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<i>Mean</i> is one of those words that I knew well would have been around forever, but I looked it up to see about some of the particular uses. And as usual, found a few surprises. =)<br />
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As a verb, <i>mean</i> has meant "intend, have in mind" even back in the days of Old English. No surprise there. It shares a root with similar
words in Dutch and German and various other languages, perhaps from <i>men</i>,
which means "think." But the unexpected part--the question "Know what I
mean?" is only from 1834! Of course, that's as a conversational question, a saying. I daresay the words were uttered as a particular question before that. Know what I mean? ;-)<br />
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As an adjective, it began life as "low-quality." Like "a mean hovel"
that the poor dude lived in. But it also carried a meaning, rather
related, actually, of "shared by all, common, public." And presumably, if something were shared by all, it wasn't really high in quality, eh? So
"inferior, second-rate" was also a natural progression for the word and came about in the 14th century.<br />
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I knew this definition would be the oldest but, when I looked it up, was more interested in when the most common meaning if <i>mean</i>
(meaning of mean--ha . . . ha . . . ha...) came into play. It acquired the "stingy, nasty" implication in the 1660s, and was then pretty strong. We Americans had to come along to give it a softer side
of "disobliging, pettily offensive," so that didn't come about until
1839--again, there's the surprise!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6vdmdYn8m128myf1toxjzp2ohfnDKrI82s36EqrGvBZ3CmzuQo68a7AjUFxC4_s0792WpKCrZkm34YGhNEirW7rk9kqn8gfYCYp8I__NPt7XlBZeIp5oK2KwDOhLIZYRyyOslZBKTUUE/s1600/fuzzy+surprised.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6vdmdYn8m128myf1toxjzp2ohfnDKrI82s36EqrGvBZ3CmzuQo68a7AjUFxC4_s0792WpKCrZkm34YGhNEirW7rk9kqn8gfYCYp8I__NPt7XlBZeIp5oK2KwDOhLIZYRyyOslZBKTUUE/s1600/fuzzy+surprised.jpg" /></a>And
an interesting note on it too. The inverted sense of "remarkably good,"
(think "wow, he plays a mean piano!") is from 1900, most likely from a
simple dropping of a negative, like "he is no mean piano player," (<i>mean</i> here being either "inferior" or its <i>other</i> meaning of "average.")</div>
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Have no mean Monday, all! ;-)<br />
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Roseanna Whitehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02245767775900250399noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7652659672729617168.post-92054704002720111352020-05-07T05:30:00.000-04:002020-05-07T19:17:54.969-04:00Thoughtful About . . . Preparing Our Hearts to Knock on the Door<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Let me share a few stories with you. You've probably heard them before. They're stories about some of the Great Men of Faith in our recent history. First, one of my favorites about George Muller. One morning at his orphanage, he was informed by a panicked house mother that there was absolutely no food left. What were they to do? How were they to feed the children?</div>
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Well, George instructed her to have all the children sit at their places at the table, plates and cups before them--empty. And he proceeded to pray. Thanking God for the food He would provide. Thanking him for the empty plates that were an opportunity for Him to provide in an amazing way. Well, soon after he finished praying, there was a knock at the door. The baker stood there, rather grumpily, saying God had woken him up and told him to bake bread for the orphanage, so there he was with enough to feed them. Not long after he left, there was another knock at the door--the milk cart had broken down right outside the orphanage, and the milkman said they'd better take all the milk, because it would spoil before he could get back to fix the axle.</div>
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The Lord provided.</div>
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Let's switch to a D. L. Moody story. They were trying to start the Moody Institute, and they had their plans ready...but it was an expensive undertaking, and they didn't have the funds for it. In a meeting of the board of directors, they were praying, and one of the members cried out, "Lord, you own the cattle on a thousand hills! Can't you sell a few to provide for us?" Well, minutes later, there was a knock on the door. A local rancher stood there, with a check in his hands. He'd felt this urging, you see, to sell off part of his herd and give the money to them.</div>
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The Lord provided.</div>
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And that's what I've always focused on--that <i>the Lord provided</i>. That the prayers of faithful men who were staring down the barrel of NOTHING produced SOMETHING.</div>
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But there's a crucial part of those stories and others like them that I often overlooked. The Lord provided...through other people. Someone else had to knock on the door. Someone else had to listen to the Lord. Someone else had to sacrifice for these Great Men's Great Visions to happen.</div>
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And those Someone Elses had to do it <i>before</i> the men even prayed.</div>
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Generally when I read or hear those stories, I always imagine myself in the place of the one asking, right? The one with the vision. We cast ourselves in the role of the person who has the calling and who calls out to God. In fact, we've done that. We've cried out, and then waited for His answer.</div>
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But what if they don't come? Has God failed?</div>
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Or have <i>we</i>? Not the we who does the asking...but the we who were supposed to do the answering. The we who were supposed to be listening. The we who should have been willing to do the work, make the sacrifice, knock on the door. The we who God meant to use to provide for that Great Thing.</div>
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I've been pondering this so much lately. It's easy to be passionate about our own callings. To be willing to sacrifice or suffer for it. But how do we become so passionate about someone else's, to the point that we're willing to sell off our possessions, rise in the middle of night, or do the thing that seems a little crazy in order to provide for someone else's dream?</div>
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We were talking about this in our Bible study and someone said, "Well, we have to exercise our hearts so that they're ready." I'll be honest--I don't know what this looks like. But it strikes me as true. So the question, then, is how do we do that?</div>
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Well, I have to think it means listening daily for the smaller ways He'd have us reach out and help others. Maybe that means something simple like getting up a few minutes early to have coffee ready for our spouse. Maybe it means stopping what we're doing to make a phone call or send an email or drop a card in the mail when the Lord brings someone to our minds and hearts. Maybe it means skipping that meal out and instead sending a gift card to someone you think could use it. Maybe it means lending someone your car so they can go and do the thing you know they need to do--or even driving them to it. </div>
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Maybe it means listening, really listening when we hear about others' dreams and callings, and earnestly asking, "Lord, what can I do to help them?" Even when it's not <i>our</i> calling. Even when it's not something <i>we</i> are passionate about.</div>
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This, I think, is how the church builds true community. And it's also how we grow--as individuals, and as a body. It's how we bind ourselves together and value the foot and the ear and the nose as much as the hand or eyes.</div>
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I tend to give a lot of thought to where God might want me to go. But now...now I'm also going to be listening to what doors he might ask me to knock on for someone else's going.<br />
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Roseanna Whitehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02245767775900250399noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7652659672729617168.post-24230432735522913802020-05-04T05:30:00.000-04:002020-05-04T05:30:02.183-04:00Word of the Week - Zone<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>Originally posted on 8/13/12</i></span> <br />
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Once upon a time, I was looking up "war zone," and in so doing came across some interesting tidbits on <i>zone</i>. =)</div>
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The noun dates to the late fourteenth century, coming directly from the Latin <i>zona</i>, which means "a geographical belt, celestial zone." The Latin, in turn, comes from the Greek <i>zone</i>,
which was the word for "belt." Originally this was used solely to talk
of the five great divisions on the surface of the earth--the torrid,
temperate, and frigid areas, separated by the tropics of Cancer and
Capricorn and the Arctic and Antarctic circles.</div>
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It wasn't until 1822 that <i>zone</i> was applied to any set region--so I
could be pretty sure "war zone" wasn't around yet in 1814, LOL. It was applied to sports in 1927.</div>
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Then we have the verb sense coming into play. "Zoning" land for a purpose dates from 1912.</div>
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Not to be confused with the oh-so-modern sense of "zone out." This verb is from the 1980s, a back-formation of the adjective "zoned" that's related to drug use, taken from the word <i>ozone</i>. I guess it implies that someone's really high, which I'd never paused to consider.
That use is from the 1960s. (Surprise, surprise, LOL.)</div>
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So there you go. Some really ancient uses, and some incredibly modern ones. =)<br />
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Roseanna Whitehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02245767775900250399noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7652659672729617168.post-79231187511862328662020-04-30T05:30:00.000-04:002020-04-30T05:30:05.230-04:00Thoughtful About . . . the Purpose of Praise<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Last week, my husband asked one of those questions of his that really get me thinking--the sort that sounds straightforward but isn't. He said, "What's the purpose of praise?"</div>
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Now, I already knew that things like the psalms and even our modern praise and worship songs never stir my hubby's heart like they do other people's. That's just not how he's made. Which in turn lends him an interesting perspective on it and makes him question whether the POINT is to be moved by it...or something else entirely? Why does God command us to praise? For us? For Him?</div>
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This past week I was plotting out a new biblical fiction story I'll be writing for Guideposts' Ordinary Women of the Bible line of novels, and the question he asked must have still been lingering in the back of my mind, because I found that emerging as the primary theme, rather unexpectedly, of my fictional retelling of Naaman's handmaiden.</div>
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What is the purpose of praise? Is it to rouse emotions? Does it have some effect on God? We're told that our praise is like sweet incense to Him, but does a pleasant smell have a big purpose? Are we told to praise God because HE needs us to...because WE need us to...because OTHERS need us to? This was the heart of the discussion David and I had.</div>
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I don't personally believe the charge to praise Him, to worship Him, to thank Him for everything is for God's benefit at all. If you have evidence otherwise, please feel free to correct me, LOL. But God isn't, I think, bound by emotions like we are. He isn't so easily moved one way or the other by circumstances or words.</div>
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I think that we praise Him for <i>US</i>. For ourselves--those doing the praising; and for others--those who hear us. So I want to take a few minutes to look at those options.</div>
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First and foremost, I think songs or words of praise are meant to remind us of a few very important things: that God is God, that God is good, that God IS above all, despite all. That no matter our circumstances, His nature doesn't change. And so, by singing or reciting or whispering words that affirm this, we're reminding our own changeable hearts and minds and emotions that there is a Rock on which we stand. We realign our thinking and feeling. Some of my sweetest moments of praise have been between no one but me and my Maker, my Master. They've been moments of awe, when I remember and reflect not just on what He's DONE, but on Who He Is.</div>
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And this private praise is important. Whatever shape it may take--maybe you sing songs, maybe you write down your thoughts, maybe you quietly pray, maybe you simply think about Him--this praise of Him leads your heart to worship Him. But I do also believe there's another purpose to those words, and they require them to be spoken or sung aloud, in the hearing of others.</div>
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Because those words also bear testimony to Who He Is and what He's done. Have you ever noticed how many of the psalms are a recounting of history? The exodus, for example? Or specific events in the life of the psalmist, whether it be David or another? I will admit that as someone who grew up in church, I occasionally skimmed over the "historical" ones because they were, well, <i>boring</i>. (Hides face.) I already knew the story. I didn't want to hear it again, so I'd go on to the next psalm that spoke of dejection and hope, sorrow and joy, darkness and light.</div>
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But I was doing it wrong, LOL. Or at least not appreciating fully the purpose of those songs. Because in a day when the primary way of teaching was through recitation, these are powerful, important tools. These songs are the way the next generation is told of His might and power. These songs are the way <i>strangers</i> learn of who the God of Israel is and what sets Him apart from the Baalim or the gods of Egypt. These songs are testimony.</div>
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In my fictional story, I decided to make my heroine a singer, someone who has always taken great joy is singing the hymns of praise. But when she's captured by Syrians and finds herself serving in Naaman's house, she doesn't at first know if she should continue singing. But it's who she is, and soon her songs start coming forth again. Songs of praise and witness to her God. Songs that change the household. That change Naaman. That inspire them to believe in the God of Israel instead of Rimmon. Her songs convict, teach, and inspire.</div>
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And that, I think, is the true purpose of praise. Not just to get our emotions in a frenzy or put a catchy tune in our heads that we won't be able to knock out of it for days to come--but to put His words in our heart, so that those hearts remember always to incline to Him. And then to remind or teach those around us too.</div>
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He doesn't tell us to praise for HIS sake--He tells us to praise for OURS. And, perhaps even more...for THEIRS.<br />
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Roseanna Whitehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02245767775900250399noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7652659672729617168.post-37514179453212216962020-04-27T05:30:00.000-04:002020-04-27T05:30:00.776-04:00Word of the Week - Mayday<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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This is a very appropriate revisit from 2012, I thought since we're only a few days away from May 1. As in, May Day. Ha...ha...ha...😉<br />
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Anyway!<br />
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<i>Mayday</i>, according to "The Wireless Age" from June 1923, is an aviator distress call. It was agreed that just saying the letters <i>SOS</i>
wouldn't do--that was the agreed upon message for telegraph, but it
didn't translate so well to spoken words. The powers that be also
decided a simple "Help!" wouldn't do. So they chose "May Day," thinking
it particularly fitting because it sounds so similar to the French <i>m'aidez</i> (help me).</div>
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It has since translated to any radio communication of help, be it in airplanes or boats or whatever.<br />
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Roseanna Whitehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02245767775900250399noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7652659672729617168.post-7784656674254130322020-04-23T05:30:00.000-04:002020-04-23T05:30:06.794-04:00Throwback Thursday - Writing and Passion<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<i><span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="https://roseannamwhite.blogspot.com/2015/04/thoughtful-about-writing-and-passion.html">Original post published 4/30/2015</a></span></i><br />
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Passion: though its current definition involves "any strong feeling," it has its roots in pain. <i>Passion</i> comes straight from the Latin <i>passio</i>, which means, quite simply, "suffering."</div>
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So our English idea of being <i>passionate</i> about something...it means not just something we feel strongly about, but something we're willing to suffer for.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPYNvdblmZMNj3Ekh_Q46Cn309uX-nfu30s_PKKG5DtyOC-Wn8moGTSmsm3yG0VaWhRxrmARCvhq1NxvuyL82IyCNQDpHvgfQLEXxKDIBgpyaiLFFrCAUSeo2zRE97xtFgEqsq7UGg0vI/s1600/what+are+you+willing+to+suffer+for.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPYNvdblmZMNj3Ekh_Q46Cn309uX-nfu30s_PKKG5DtyOC-Wn8moGTSmsm3yG0VaWhRxrmARCvhq1NxvuyL82IyCNQDpHvgfQLEXxKDIBgpyaiLFFrCAUSeo2zRE97xtFgEqsq7UGg0vI/s1600/what+are+you+willing+to+suffer+for.jpg" width="320" /></a><a href="http://www.google.com/url?sa=t&rct=j&q=&esrc=s&source=web&cd=1&cad=rja&uact=8&ved=0CB8QFjAA&url=http%3A%2F%2Fsusanlmeissner.com%2F&ei=QfU8VcH0N_TdsASQy4GgAw&usg=AFQjCNGGaWgp5jAwyJgxG-yJEaCpK0ZpHQ&sig2=soEC-mK5VZm3GpB1ly1Oxw&bvm=bv.91665533,d.cWc" target="_blank">Susan Meissne</a>r pointed this out in a great class at ACFW one year, along with the question of "Are we really willing to suffer for our writing? Are we <i>passionate</i> about it?" And went on to say that for many writers, herself included, the answer was <i>no</i>. She was willing to work really hard at it, but it was a career. She loved it, but it didn't deserve the word <i>passion</i>.</div>
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Another writer, very well respected and often ground-breaking, just said something similar. That when it came down to it, there's not much she'd give up for writing. </div>
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It made me realize anew that I'm not in that camp. Susan Meissner began that aforementioned class by breaking down writers into 3 groups--those who write as a hobby, those who write as a job, and those who write as a ministry. She was speaking to the middle group.</div>
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I belong to the ministry group. Neither is right or wrong, they're just different. But I've recently heard a lot of voices talking very wisely and thoroughly about the Career group, and I wanted to take some time to examine the Ministry aspect.</div>
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I have said many times that I write for the same reason that I breathe: because I must. I have written before about "<a href="http://roseannamwhite.blogspot.com/2014/02/thoughtful-about-being-writer-and.html" target="_blank">Being a Writer and Zombies</a>" LOL and how even if the world as I knew it was obliterated and I was on the run for years at a time, I would write (albeit just in my head, telling stories around the campfire). If writing fiction became illegal, I would write. It isn't a choice to me, it isn't a job, it isn't something I do--it's who I am. It's how I process. It's how I think.</div>
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More, it's how I fulfill the Great Commission.</div>
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I had the honor and pleasure of speaking at a MOPS group two weeks ago, which is something I've done before and always love. I'm about the same age as most of the women there, my kids are just recently out of that "pre-schoolers" age, and I can relate to them on a lot of different levels. I love talking to them about juggling their home life with other passions, which is what I was talking about this time too, and about my publishing story.</div>
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Afterward, one of the ladies said something to me that I've heard before, LOL. "It's so fun hearing you talk about this--you're so passionate about it!" (When I'm speaking to older crowds, that often gets paired with "It's so adorable how excited you are!")</div>
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But that's me. I get excited about writing, about books, about the stories I get to tell. I get excited about how God has worked in my life to bring me to this point, and the ways He has used my books in the lives of His children. I get excited about what's to come.</div>
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And yes--I'm willing to suffer for it. Because the written word is my mission field. Telling stories is how I spread the Gospel and share God's truths. Yes, I had to learn the career side--how to follow the rules of writing, how to appeal to readers and editors, how to get my books out into those readers' hands (otherwise it's not much of a mission field!), and I work hard at it. But if that were taken away from me, if I could no longer get books out there, I'd still write stories--and I'd still get them to as many people as I could.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqVUAW-9sOQaLlZ-lg8-E4M9FAf72BHIri3ZGTIks_5UeZqwdVBrCmWBiDWpkxfy1fU13RMsqEJ4oT2vmuEgJD6kRPb1RGFbDNhO0U-bYciWZtTqANoSZSHxgaoQFdstOOU8WIyzYn/s1600/writer-1421099_1920.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1071" data-original-width="1600" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqVUAW-9sOQaLlZ-lg8-E4M9FAf72BHIri3ZGTIks_5UeZqwdVBrCmWBiDWpkxfy1fU13RMsqEJ4oT2vmuEgJD6kRPb1RGFbDNhO0U-bYciWZtTqANoSZSHxgaoQFdstOOU8WIyzYn/s320/writer-1421099_1920.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
There are so many reasons to write. So many ways to treat it. So many things it can be even to someone like me who considers it a ministry, a calling. Yes, I want it to entertain. Yes, I want to write the best I possibly can. Yes, I want to keep learning how to make my books successful. No, I certainly don't want my stories to ever come across as an agenda.</div>
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But that's the beauty, to me. If I pursue this thing I'm called to wholeheartedly, I <i>know</i> that God will give me those truths to write into my stories. I know I'll continue to understand God's love better and better by exploring relationships and family through writing. I know my stories will get better and better as stories, and that the better they get, the more they'll be able to fulfill their purpose on a spiritual level too.</div>
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For those of us whose writing is a ministry, the question of "Why do we do it?" always comes back to "Because that's how we serve Him." And because that's my reason, it makes me view things like low sales and setbacks in a whole different light. Obviously, I want my books to be successful--as in, reach lots of people--but more, I want them to be used by Him. Ideally, the two will go hand in hand. But if not, if my sales are awful but I'm still getting notes from people telling me how my books opened their eyes or touched their hearts or made them redefine their faith...well then, I'm doing my job.</div>
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It's not always easy. It doesn't always seem worthwhile. It certainly isn't always logical. It can't always be quantified. But that's true of most ministries, isn't it? We serve, we give, we fight for the right to do so. We falter, we weep, we wonder if it will ever make a difference. Then we get up again and keep serving. Because it's part of who we are.</div>
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It's a little odd that writing is something you can do for so many different reasons--after all, not many people choose "missionary" as a career simply because they think they have a way with people and words and it seems like a good career choice. That's one that most people will do <i>only</i> as a calling, a ministry. But writing can be a talent, a gift much like good math skills or engineering acumen. It can be a job that goes hand-in-hand with ministry. It can be so many different things.</div>
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But if you're pursuing it, it's a good idea to identify <i>why</i> you are. What it means to you. What you're willing to give up for it, and what you're <i>not</i>. For many fabulous writers, they're not willing to give up much to pursue writing. For others, there's not much they <i>won't</i> give up to pursue writing. How awesome that God can use us all. =)<br />
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Bookworm Mamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02826233658079767765noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7652659672729617168.post-28370037778708095462020-04-20T05:30:00.000-04:002020-04-20T05:30:04.341-04:00Word of the Week - Wow<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRoP4AY5rociQ0Er2QgstVye6jOlc9F0oUp_kaLoVEezdZOVujFV8I04Zj51kFhAKmD6vyMdNU_Ywe4T0Pw7t6Uyc6CGztWgVHyQo7EHr67xNTQNDoCnPVzFjgHbnPbVXK-oFHJoA6/s1600/WOW+Blog.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="315" data-original-width="560" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRoP4AY5rociQ0Er2QgstVye6jOlc9F0oUp_kaLoVEezdZOVujFV8I04Zj51kFhAKmD6vyMdNU_Ywe4T0Pw7t6Uyc6CGztWgVHyQo7EHr67xNTQNDoCnPVzFjgHbnPbVXK-oFHJoA6/s640/WOW+Blog.png" width="640" /></a></div>
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<i><span style="font-size: x-small;">Originally posted August 27, 2012</span></i></div>
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Though a revisit, this remains one of my favorite word discoveries! </div>
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I always thought of <i>wow</i> as a modern word. So when I looked it up, I was shocked to see that it's from 1510!</div>
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<i>Wow</i> is a Scottish interjection, one of those that arise from a
natural sound we make when surprised by something. Much like whoa, ow,
ouch, huh, and the like.</div>
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It became a verb in more modern days, though--we only started wowing people in the 1920s, originating in America. ;-)</div>
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But in my defense, it's a word that waxed and waned in popularity. It
apparently took on new life in the early 1900s after being not so in use
prior, and then had another surge in the 1960s. Which has carried
through to now.</div>
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And of course, had led to one of my son's favorite sayings when he was about 4:
Wowwy-zowwy-coppa-bowwy! (Or however one would spell that...) (Sadly, eight years later he doesn't say it anymore, though I still do on occasion, LOL.)</div>
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Roseanna Whitehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02245767775900250399noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7652659672729617168.post-48982957418400771322020-04-16T05:30:00.000-04:002020-04-16T05:30:00.575-04:00Throwback Thursday - When We're Pressed<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDc859NPLnSmk3J92qaWf8QihtawXw0FnQbyX_nvYHrpY9LYyRGK8BB4MphzakvpXb42naN3zHI450BBh5cOEfi_Jued4o5zP4hAAbIsupYGNhZGZVf9yEICysEsI8RrkdS8Bro7aG/s1600/When+We%2527re+Pressed.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="315" data-original-width="560" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDc859NPLnSmk3J92qaWf8QihtawXw0FnQbyX_nvYHrpY9LYyRGK8BB4MphzakvpXb42naN3zHI450BBh5cOEfi_Jued4o5zP4hAAbIsupYGNhZGZVf9yEICysEsI8RrkdS8Bro7aG/s640/When+We%2527re+Pressed.png" width="640" /></a></div>
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I have dedicated this week to an At-Home Writing Retreat...Since I couldn't attend my IN PERSON writing retreat with my dear friend Stephanie Morrill this year. Therefore, I am pulling a "Thoughtful" post from the archives today. I hope you are all staying sane during this strange season we find ourselves in. I've revisited this one before. But it definitely feels relevant today. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNqaIUyZnzxKcWRZEoP5OK8I-wQG_RLSxbYaBTPM8M5cUv6aLwlR5iVmBJxy5NdNW5B_HmY7-Ul3SYcKE0NnMMMBsmjhV2MB51ZMH45O_zpPknaMaHMDzCVht4iqRPcJZLkDKwtswj/s1600/flower+divider.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="39" data-original-width="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNqaIUyZnzxKcWRZEoP5OK8I-wQG_RLSxbYaBTPM8M5cUv6aLwlR5iVmBJxy5NdNW5B_HmY7-Ul3SYcKE0NnMMMBsmjhV2MB51ZMH45O_zpPknaMaHMDzCVht4iqRPcJZLkDKwtswj/s1600/flower+divider.jpg" /></a></div>
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<i><span style="font-size: x-small;"><a href="https://roseannamwhite.blogspot.com/2016/06/thoughtful-about-when-were-pressed.html">Original post published 6/30/2016</a></span></i></div>
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Life is hard. So often we feel <i>pressure</i>. People are pushing us. Prodding us. Poking us. Sometimes, when circumstances are weighing heavy, we get that tight feeling in our chest, right? Or in our stomach. Stress. Overwhelm.</div>
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We get tired.</div>
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We get frustrated.</div>
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We react.</div>
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But <i>how</i> do we react? Or the better question, how <i>should</i> we?</div>
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In his sermon last weekend, my dad used this analogy, and it really struck me. Take an orange and squeeze it, press it--what do you get? Orange juice. Not apple juice. Not grape juice.</div>
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Take a sponge and squeeze it, and what do you get? Whatever liquid it has soaked up.</div>
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Take a plant and press it, and what comes out? The oils or fluids from inside the plant.</div>
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Now, take a piece of rotten fruit and squeeze it, and what comes out? Rot. Decay. Stench.</div>
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Getting the picture? When pressed, what comes out of a thing? <i>What's inside it</i>.</div>
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So let's take that back to us. What comes out of <i>us</i> when we're pressed? (Yes, the comedian in me said, "Blood and gross-squishy-red-stuff." [Bonus points if you get the <i>Phineas and Ferb</i> reference.] But let's be serious, LOL.)</div>
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What comes out is what's within. So if we're frustrated, that frustration comes out. If we're unhappy, we spew unhappiness. If we're bitter, that bile is just going to come oozing out of our mouths. But is that all that's inside us, even when we're not at our best?</div>
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When we're people of faith, there is always Something else inside us. Some<i>one</i> else. The Holy Spirit lives here. He's inside me. Jesus is inside me. So with them, what else is inside me?</div>
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Love. Joy. Peace. Patience. Kindness. Goodness. Faithfulness.</div>
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When we're pressed, squeezed, put under pressure, when we're poked, prodded, and pushed, <i>that </i>is what should come pouring out of us--that should be what's within us.</div>
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Humbling, isn't it? When you're feeling the pressure of life, are you greeting it with love? With joy? Do we greet evil with goodness? Prodding with patience? <span style="color: #b45f06;">Are we, when we're at our lowest, when we're been squeezed so much by life that the pain is palpable, shining with faithfulness?</span></div>
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If we're not, then that says something about what's inside us--and about what isn't. We can't pour out what we don't have; we can't have good fruit inside us yet spill out rot and decay. If that's what's coming out, it's because that's what's within.</div>
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And if that's what's within, then we need to do some serious work on ourselves. We need to turn those rotten spots over to God and let Him prune them away. We need to plead with Him to fill us with the good stuff inside.</div>
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And He will.</div>
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Until our cup runs over with His light. It'll spill right out of us . . . and right into the world. And then, when we're pressed, people will see Him.</div>
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I can't think of a more beautiful way to show people who Jesus really is.</div>
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Bookworm Mamahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02826233658079767765noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7652659672729617168.post-43801320138495309942020-04-13T05:30:00.000-04:002020-04-13T05:53:22.269-04:00Word of the Week - Smorgasbord<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Holidays mean food. (So do regular days, LOL.) And this year, with trying to limit our trips to the store, I'm making more of an effort than usual to make sure all leftovers get eaten. Which led me to pull everything out of the fridge and declare dinner a smorgasbord of leftovers (when else do you get to have pizza with a side of mashed potatoes? This is awesome.). Which, of course, led my daughter to ask, "What does <i>smorgasbord</i> even mean? What a weird word."</div>
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I replied, "I think it's Scandinavian. Beyond that...I don't know."</div>
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Cue that oh-so-familiar declaration of, "Word of the Week!" (This is shouted in our house regularly, LOL.)</div>
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And so, here we go--and it's a funny one! <i>Smorgasbord</i> is, in fact, Swedish. Literally meaning (are you ready?) "butter-goose table." Yep. Butter-goose table. Though before you start scratching your head too much, let's note that though that is its <i>literal</i> meaning, in Sweden it actually has become the term used for a slice of bread and butter. Namely, not a full meal, but a light dish. When you add the <i>bord</i> to the end, it means a table set out with such dishes. This is from around 1893 (when it joined English, anyway). But by 1948, the word was used to mean any medley.</div>
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Have you had any <i>smorgasbords</i> in your house lately?</div>
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Roseanna Whitehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02245767775900250399noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7652659672729617168.post-46104713679762844702020-04-09T05:30:00.000-04:002020-04-09T05:30:00.922-04:00Thoughtful About . . . Holy, Holy, Holy ~ Even Now<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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It's Holy Week. My favorite week of the year. Most of my friends and family are Christmas diehards, but us? My husband and I have always preferred Resurrection Day and the week leading up to it. The week when the focus isn't on gifts but on sacrifice.</div>
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This year, everything looks so different, doesn't it? A couple of months ago when talking about what we'd do this week, we were considering things like finding a Good Friday service at another local church, since ours doesn't have one. My husband was joking (or dreaming, perhaps, LOL) about flying to Europe to see a live performance of Bach's <i>St. Matthew's Passion</i> in Bach's hometown. We were planning our usual Messianic Passover Seder meal for tonight, our Sunrise Service for Sunday.</div>
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Instead, we're all going to be home. Using online meeting technology to gather with our church family for that Seder meal tonight. Listening to the <i>Passion</i> in our living room tomorrow. Running any services online as we've been doing for the past few weeks. And I find myself wondering--how will the change in routine change my understanding?</div>
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This year, everything looks so different . . . but that can be a good thing. It's when there's a change, a disruption, an upheaval that we can often see things in a new light. As I listen to other families muse about what life looks like for them in the last few weeks, I admit to grinning sometimes--because suddenly everyone's life looks a lot like my normal one. Work, school, cooking, meetings--they're all happening from home. That's not to say I don't feel empathy for those who are struggling with balancing these things--I struggle with it too! But I'm also praying that everyone experiences new levels of connection with their families.</div>
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Last week, I took a day to write (as I often do) at our office (which is empty unless I or my husband go over for a day, so no fear of sharing germs with anyone!). When I got home, we had dinner, did our evening devotional, etc. It looked, I realized, like a normal day for most families, with everyone doing their own things during the day. And as I was going about my evening chores, I had this realization: on those days when I'm not home all day, I miss the connection with my husband and kids. I might be more productive, but I'm less nourished on a heart level. Which in turn led me to renew my prayers for all my friends and family and readers, that this unusual time of sheltering in place would be one not of frustration but of deepening connection. Sure, there will be moments of getting on each other's nerves. But I pray that even more, there will be moments of hearts meeting on new levels.</div>
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And I'm praying the same thing happens as we celebrate Holy Week at home this year. That somehow, through the isolation and change in routine, new Truths about His ultimate sacrifice, His ultimate victory, His ultimate glory will flood my soul. That when forced to do things in a new way, I'll also <i>see</i> things in a new way.</div>
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I pray that a quieter version of events will silence some of the noise that always creeps in and bathe my spirit with His song.</div>
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I pray that this year, Holy Week will be all about the HOLY in our house. Not about eggs or dinners or rushing to get to church on time. But about dwelling in Him. Walking the path, the <i>via delorosa</i>, with Him. Suffering with Him. Rising to new life with Him.</div>
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This year, everything looks so different . . . but the most important things haven't changed. He still loves us so much that He gave His life for us. He still rose from the grave. He's still sitting at the right hand of the Father. And His Spirit is still with us, dwelling in us, leading us and guiding us. Even when our feet are keeping us in one place.</div>
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What are you doing this year to compensate for the quarantine? In place of family dinners, Easter egg hunts, or services at your church, are you doing anything new and special? I'd love to hear about it!<br />
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Roseanna Whitehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02245767775900250399noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7652659672729617168.post-12029210291153554732020-04-06T05:30:00.000-04:002020-04-06T05:30:02.807-04:00Word of the Week - Fast II<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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I've looked at the word <a href="http://roseannamwhite.blogspot.com/2016/09/word-of-week-fast.html" target="_blank"><i>fast</i></a> before, but I was specifically focusing on the adjective/adverb form (and why we don't add -ly to it anymore). Today I wanted to take a look at the verb/noun form. Seems appropriate as we enter Holy Week, the end of the period of Lenton fasting, which contains one of the two days traditionally requiring a fast (Good Friday). 😁</div>
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As a quick reminder, the adj/adv form originally meant "firmly fixed." This is preserved today in <i>steadfast</i>. A reminder I have to make, because the noun/verb meaning is from the same root and indeed carries much the same meaning.</div>
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From the Old English <i>faesten</i>, the word originally meant "to make firm; establish, confirm, pledge." So let's trace that a bit, shall we? "Make firm" easily moved into "to have firm control of oneself" and "confirming" or "pledging" similarly are necessary in order to abstain from something for religious reasons. So <i>to fast</i> was to hold oneself in observance of something...especially by abstaining from something...especially food. </div>
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It definitely originated as a ritual tied to faith, but soon became the word used for any abstinence, whether it was for religious reasons or not. Hence, of course, <i>breakfast</i> being the first meal of the day, when we break the fast of the night.<br />
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Roseanna Whitehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02245767775900250399noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7652659672729617168.post-76876888166034428492020-04-02T05:30:00.000-04:002020-04-02T05:30:01.679-04:00Thoughtful About . . . Our Daily Cross<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Holy Week will soon be upon us ~ my favorite week of the year. Better, in my opinion, than Christmas, where it's so easy to focus on the physical traditions instead of the miracle. Because this week is <i>all</i> about the miracle. The miracle that rewrote history, restored us to God, brought eternity to us all.</div>
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Holy Week will soon be upon us, and so I'm starting to think about what that means. Especially this year, when normal traditions have been, er, interrupted. Last weekend, one of the verses my dad read was from Luke 9:23-24.</div>
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<span class="text Luke-9-23"><sup class="versenum">23 </sup>Then He said to <i>them</i> all, <span class="woj">“If anyone desires to come after Me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross</span> <span class="woj">daily, and follow Me.</span> </span> <span class="text Luke-9-24" id="en-NKJV-25326"><sup class="versenum">24 </sup><span class="woj">For whoever desires to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for My sake will save it. (NKJV)</span></span></blockquote>
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<span class="text Luke-9-24" id="en-NKJV-25326"><span class="woj">There are four occasions recorded in the New Testament where Jesus gives this instruction: Matthew 16:24, Mark 8:34, Mark 10:21, and this one in Luke. Three of those four are the same conversation, delivered to the disciples very near His telling them about His own death and resurrection. The one in Mark 10 is in the conversation with the rich young ruler. </span></span></div>
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<span class="text Luke-9-24" id="en-NKJV-25326"><span class="woj"><br /></span> </span></div>
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<span class="text Luke-9-24" id="en-NKJV-25326"><span class="woj">I remember being very struck by this upon doing a study of the cross years ago--because while obviously Jesus could well know the very means by which He would die, it's still rather striking that He would talk about it so particularly before it happens, right? That He would use as an illustration the very thing that would take on such significance for Christians throughout history. And more, that He would talk about it as something those who follow Him must do.</span></span></div>
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<span class="text Luke-9-24" id="en-NKJV-25326"><span class="woj">But that's exactly what He says. For those who wish to follow Him, we must do a few things. Deny ourselves. Take up our cross. Follow. Put Him above our own lives, our own families, our own dreams. Be willing, day by day and month by month, to move toward our own destruction if it means building His kingdom.</span></span></div>
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<span class="text Luke-9-24" id="en-NKJV-25326"><span class="woj">The passage I quoted above in Luke is the only one that adds "daily," but I found it an interesting addition. Because it hammered home that following Him is not a one-time decision. Giving up everything isn't a burden we accept once. Sacrificing our will to His isn't a quick, easily-endured discomfort.</span></span></div>
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<span class="text Luke-9-24" id="en-NKJV-25326"><span class="woj">It's something we have to make the conscious effort to do EVERY DAY.</span></span></div>
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<span class="text Luke-9-24" id="en-NKJV-25326"><span class="woj">And it's supposed to HURT.</span></span></div>
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<span class="text Luke-9-24" id="en-NKJV-25326"><span class="woj">We don't like that, do we? We love the verse that says, "my yoke is easy and my burden light." These ones that talk about torture and martyrdom and death and pain and war in our own families...yeah, not so much fun. Why in the world would anyone sign up for THAT?</span></span></div>
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<span class="text Luke-9-24" id="en-NKJV-25326"><span class="woj">And Jesus makes it even harder. You want to follow? Then you commit <i>fully</i>. You let the dead bury their own dead. You don't even say goodbye to your family and friends. You just <i>go</i>, because He is right there, but He won't stay in one place for long. He's set His face toward Jerusalem, toward His OWN sacrifice, and if you want to be there to witness it, there is no time for farewells.</span></span></div>
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<span class="text Luke-9-24" id="en-NKJV-25326"><span class="woj">I don't think I realized until just that moment that the surrounding verses in Luke, in which Jesus replies to various people who say they want to follow, just not yet, are set just days before the beginning of Holy Week with the triumphal entry. In the other Gospels, the same conversations are put in different places chronologically. So maybe I shouldn't focus too much on that. But I'm going to let it percolate anyway.</span></span></div>
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<span class="text Luke-9-24" id="en-NKJV-25326"><span class="woj"><br /></span> </span></div>
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<span class="text Luke-9-24" id="en-NKJV-25326"><span class="woj">Because those people who chose to stay with father and mother and children and home and land and responsibilities and security...those people who shied away from the unfamiliar and the uncomfortable and the unknowable--they missed something miraculous. They missed witnessing the ultimate Passover Sacrifice. They missed being there for the ultimate triumph of His resurrection.</span></span></div>
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<span class="text Luke-9-24" id="en-NKJV-25326"><span class="woj">When He calls us--to whatever He calls us--what do we miss if we hem and haw and look behind us instead of forward, toward Him? What miracles do we not get to participate in? </span></span></div>
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<span class="text Luke-9-24" id="en-NKJV-25326"><span class="woj">And then back to my main point. What crosses do we have that we pick up daily? What sacrifices do we make day after day? What decisions do we make to put His above Ours?</span></span></div>
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It's not meant to be easy. It's guaranteed to hurt. So why would we sign up for that? Because the best things in life are only gained through the hard stuff. And unlike the other gods throughout history that demanded a sacrifice for their own pleasure, our Lord takes no joy from the pain--no, He instead took the pain, lived the pain, embraced the pain for us, in a way we can never do, to show us what perfect love looks like. He doesn't demand we suffer just so He can laugh at us. No, He instead demands that we remove whatever lies between us and Him. It's our own fault if we're holding so tightly to it that the removal hurts. It isn't the pain of the surgery He wants from us--it's the result.</div>
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Why does He ask us to take up our cross every day? Because putting on the burden of His message reminds us daily of what our true work is. Hard to ignore the cross on your shoulder, right? It's heavy. But carrying it will make us strong--for Him. And it will show the world that we're prepared to accept the consequences of our faith. </div>
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Because there was only one reason to carry a cross around--no one did it for fun. It led to one place. One place only. Death.</div>
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Life. </div>
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And that's the beauty. By that cross, He defeated the very thing it signified. And so, when we're bearing that burden, we're also carrying that message. In this life, in this Way, there is pain and suffering and isolation and yes, even death. But there's more than that--there's more life than we could ever know without it. Joy beyond all happiness. Peace that transcends the wars.</div>
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Take up your cross. Not once. Daily. So we don't miss out on being part of whatever miracles He means to do next.</div>
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Roseanna Whitehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02245767775900250399noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7652659672729617168.post-2163439297570596442020-03-30T05:30:00.000-04:002020-03-30T05:30:07.347-04:00Word of the Week - Curfew<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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I found this one on another trending list at Etymonline.com -- and found it quite interesting! Did you know that <i>curfew</i> is literally "cover fire"? It's from the Old French <span class="foreign notranslate"><i>cuevrefeu </i>-- <i>cuevre</i> being "cover" and <i>feu, </i>of course<i>,</i> being "fire." Why?</span><br />
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<span class="foreign notranslate">Well, it began in the Middle Ages, when a bell would ring at 8 or 9 p.m., signaling everyone to douse their fires...so that no one would fall asleep, leave the fires unattended, and so burn the whole village down. It came into English sometime in the 1300s as "a signal bell rung at a set time."</span><br />
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<span class="foreign notranslate">This word took its time in evolving into "a period of restricted movement," not taking on that meaning until the 1800s. But there we have it. When you give your kids a curfew, you're really telling them to put out their fire and go to sleep. 😉</span><br />
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Roseanna Whitehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02245767775900250399noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7652659672729617168.post-78854720870797765702020-03-26T05:30:00.000-04:002020-03-26T05:30:01.505-04:00Thoughtful About . . . The Invisible<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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I'll never forget the first time I watched <i>Monsters, Inc.</i> with the kids. We'd rented it so were watching it at home. Both of them were pretty small. They laughed in all the right places--and the grabbed hold of my arms and scrambled into my lap at the expected ones too. They--and I--thoroughly enjoyed the movie. But what I remember most isn't honestly the plot or the names of the characters or anything like that. What I remember most is the bad guy. Or rather, one particular trait of the bad guy.</div>
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He could make himself invisible. And <i>that</i> made him terrifying. Because you never knew where he was. What he might be doing. </div>
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It's the same thing with the Indominus Rex in <i>Jurassic World</i>, right? The fact that this enormous, vicious creature could <i>hide</i> right out in the open...TERROR. Pure terror.</div>
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We always have this idea that if we can perceive it, we can fight it. If we can identify it, we can defeat it. If we can put our finger on it, we can solve it.</div>
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But sometimes we can't...because we <i>can't</i>.</div>
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Too often, though, that's the kind of enemy we face. It's true of cancer. It's true of autoimmune disease. It's true of viruses. It's true of termites eating away at your foundation and of mold growing in your attic. The unseen, unperceived, unknowable things are the ones that sneak up on us without warning, slithering about in the dark. And then when they pounce . . .</div>
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What? What are we to do? How are we to fight it off?</div>
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The invisible enemy is the scariest enemy. I've been entirely certain of that ever since I first watched that cute animated movie with my kids. But it's something I remembered not just because it's true in storytelling and disease...it's something I remembered because it's true in the realm of the Spirit as well.</div>
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We don't fight against flesh and blood. We fight against powers and principalities and the rulers of darkness of this age. <i>Invisible things</i>. We <i>always</i> fight against invisible things. And while it can seem terribly unfair, terribly terrifying, terribly difficult for us corporeal beings, there's something we have to remember.</div>
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We're not just fighting an invisible enemy.</div>
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We're serving an invisible God.</div>
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I've never really seen <i>that</i> in a movie--salvation for the hero coming from an unseen force. An invisible hand sweeping it all away. It probably wouldn't be satisfying to watch, right? Though we still hope for it in the real world. <i>God, put an end to this! God, stop the bad thing! Why doesn't He just swoop down and make it right?</i></div>
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And yet . . . and yet we <i>do</i> see salvation coming from an unseen <i>direction</i> all the time. The character you thought was out for the count. The helicopter arriving in the nick of time. Physical things perceived with our eyes and ears and noses.</div>
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Kinda like Jesus. He came in the flesh to be our physical salvation. To be the visible answer of our invisible God. He's done that already, my friends. Triumphing over the ultimate enemy--death. It may still claim our bodies, but it cannot touch our souls. As if we have <i>that</i> certainty, how can fear rule us?<br />
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We will always fear what we can't see. Can't know. But faith, my friends...faith is as powerful a weapon as any we could ever ask for from the military. Because it too harnesses that Invisible. It is the substance of things hoped for and <i>the evidence of things unseen</i>.<br />
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How do we know God is at work? That His armies are marching against our enemies? Because of faith. If a sneeze is the evidence of a cold--that unseen virus--then faith is the physical manifestation of God Himself. We don't think of it that way, do we? We tend to think of faith as another not-physical, unseen thing.<br />
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But it isn't. It's fully visible. Fully physical. It is the <i>substance</i>.<br />
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Which means we need to SHOW IT to each other. More, we need to show it to the world. We don't need to fear the invisible--because we <i>serve</i> the Invisible. And faith is our proof that it works. Now is our time to shine it forth.<br />
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Now is the time to fast. To pray. And to cling to Him and His promises with a visible shield. Faith. It can protect us from the fiery darts. But only if we lift it up before us.</div>
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Roseanna Whitehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02245767775900250399noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7652659672729617168.post-77601245291726510092020-03-23T05:30:00.000-04:002020-03-23T05:30:01.163-04:00Word of the Week - Mystic and . . . Secretary?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Talking about some secretive words today. 😉</div>
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In one of our family devotionals last week, there was a quote from a "mystic" of millennia past, and we found ourselves wondering where the word came from.</div>
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<i>Mystic</i> comes from the Greek <i>mystikos</i>, meaning "secret, connected to the mysteries." Sometimes today I hear any ancient scholar deemed a mystic being occult . . . but that connotation didn't come around until 1610, long after the word was applied to those who spoke or wrote about the mysteries of God--which surely we can't claim aren't mysterious!</div>
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What I found really interesting is that <i>secretary</i> actually has very similar roots--how did I never really notice that it has SECRET right there in the first part of the work? LOL. A secretary has pretty much always meant "one who is entrusted with secrets," and it migrated quite naturally from these trusted officials who knew the innermost, most secretive things of kings and dignitaries to those in the closest, trusted positions of anyone in authority.</div>
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Roseanna Whitehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02245767775900250399noreply@blogger.com0