by Roseanna White | Oct 17, 2013 | Thoughtful Thursdays, Uncategorized
Confession: this is a repost. But only because I looked down at my clock, saw it was 8:00 a.m., and realized with a start that it’s THURSDAY. Yikes! Need a blog post, stat!!! LOL. So forgive me. And enjoy. 😉
~*~
We love to torture our kids. And by
torture I mean tickle them, “eat” them up, chase them around, pretend
our hand is a monster . . . you know. Torture. The sweet kind. I
imagine that’s a fairly universal love of parents the world over, and
it’s no great secret why. We do it because we love to hear that belly
laugh, hear those delighted shrieks of “No, no! Hey, why’d you stop? Do
it again, do it again!” We love to see those huge smiles on their faces.
We love their abandon.
My
hubby will tickle me, too, but we often get a good laugh out of how he
does the same “gobble” to me he does with the kids, and I just look at
him. And usually say, “Um . . . sorry. I’m not as much fun as the kids,
am I?” Which yeah, makes us chuckle. But it’s not a belly laugh. Those
same simple things don’t result in such instant
Joy once we grow up.
Man . . . I sure wish they did!
The
abandon of a small child has its ups and downs. It results in those
moments of unbridled bliss, and it results in equally unbridled fits.
Laughter and tears in equal measures,
Joy and frustration, love and
rage. I’m sometimes amazed at how my kids can go from total contentment
in their game with each other to hitting each other and screaming at the
top of their lungs, then straight back to fun.
It’s something we learn to control as we grow up, something we teach
those kids to do. Self control is important, especially when it comes
to those negatives. And those who never learn it . . . end up with
reality shows on TV??? 😉 Seriously, that control is a must, yes.
But
what are some of your best moments from adulthood? Are they when you’re
sitting there, perfectly controlled? Are they when you don’t react to
something? No–our favorite moments are the ones where we regain a
moment of childhood abandon and embrace the
Joy of life. When we scream
our heads off on a roller coaster. When we laugh until we cry. When we
let it all go and just
live.
Sometimes
it’s hard to do that, especially in this stage of my life where I have
to keep the Mommy turned on. Oh, I can laugh with my kids. But I’m also
trying to make sure knees don’t collide with heads as we wrestle, that
things tossed up in
Joy come down in one piece. I’m trying to protect
and nurture and so can’t give my full attention to the game. I
have to do this. I
love to do this.
But sometimes I just wish I could let loose a belly laugh and not care.
And that goes for my prayer life too. That should be the one place I can
let go completely, but even there I’m usually trying to
protect–myself. I find myself praying, “Lord, you know I hope . . . you
know I fear . . . I’m trying not to hope too much because then I fear
I’ll be disappointed . . . I’m trying not to expect disappointment
though because that would be faithless . . . I don’t want to assume your
will . . . I don’t want to miss your will . . .”
But
there I need to let go of the control. With the Lord, I need to be
unafraid of the extremes. I need to show him the highs and the lows. I
need to be unafraid of letting that kid inside me out before my Father.
I need to embrace the abandon.
by Roseanna White | Oct 16, 2013 | 17th-19th Centuries, Remember When Wednesdays
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| English Cannon by the Hudson River, Revolutionary WarPhoto by Michael Francis Studios (Michael Cook) |
In what spare moments I’ve had the last week, I’ve been reading a book I’ve had set aside for research for over a year now. One that, when I saw it pop up in my Amazon search at the genesis of an idea, I got so excited about that I bought then and there, though I didn’t actually need it yet, given that I wasn’t actually writing the book, LOL.
I need to put a smidgeon of work into the idea for my agent though, so out it came. To my immense delight. =) The book is Declaration: The Nine Tumultuous Weeks when America Became Independent by Willian Hogeland, and it’s turning out to be all I hoped. A non-fiction book that tells me stories. That presents the wit of the men of the day in ways that make me laugh.
That redefines my assumptions.
See, even after researching for two separate Revolution-era books, I haven’t quite plumbed the depths of how revolutionary this was, this idea that a group of colonies could just break away from its mother country. I can never quite shake the ideas I got in my schooling, that everyone just banded together, put to use their Yankee ingenuity and grit, and ousted the tyrannical government. All Americans for one, and one for all.
A lovely, patriotic picture. Except that “patriot” was an insult at the time. “Lovely” doesn’t begin to describe the fear and uncertainty that Americans experienced. And our people were anything but unified into one coherent picture.
The simple fact is that most people didn’t want independence. They didn’t even understand independence. To them, England was Mother. The king was awful, sure, he was a tyrant. But England…England was home. And just because you don’t like a few parts of it, that doesn’t mean you disown it altogether, right? It just means you try to fix it. And sure, if it comes after you, you defend yourself. So at Lexington and Concord they had no choice. But to seek war? To seek a break?
Unthinkable. That would be like looking your dearly beloved mother–they one who might not always be fair in your eyes, but who had loved you and nurtured you–in the eye and then stabbing her in the gut.
Not something a good person would do. And the leaders, the upright citizens, the majority of the day prided themselves on being noble and just. On holding high ideals, like the philosophers of old. To defend oneself was right. But to take the offense…that would cross a line good people did not cross.
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Painting of Benjamin Franklin, 1778
by Joseph-Siffrein Duplessis |
Most of the Continental Congress had strict instructions, as late as May of 1776, to steer clear of anything that even smelled of independence. To vote against anything that would be more than a vague remonstrance of England’s unfairness. Founding fathers like Benjamin Franklin didn’t come over to the cause until very late in the game–and only then after a decade in England and final humiliation before Parliament that put him in a rage.
It wasn’t easy. It wasn’t simple. And had King George not sent a fleet of hired mercenaries after us (think a mother hiring a gang to come teach her unruly child to listen when she tells him to clean his room), there quite possibly wouldn’t have been enough support to ever make that famous Declaration.
I’ve thought before about the bravery the Patriots showed by standing against the British on the battle fields. Ragtag farmers facing off against the best military in the world. But I’d never really paused to consider how brave (and quite honestly, reckless and heavy-handed) it was for the Sons of Liberty to challenge the prevailing thought of the day. To use guile, intrigue, and rhetoric to convince an unwilling people to follow them into a war most of them didn’t want. It took them decades of work. It took compromise and bullying. But they didn’t just redefine an ideal–they rewrote history. They made their cause so strong that hundreds of years later, school children just think That’s the way it was.
It wasn’t. Not until they made it so.
Do we believe that strongly today? Enough that we’re willing to work all our lives for a goal that most deem foolhardy? Are we willing to fight against prevailing sentiments? When the world says, “You’re crazy,” do we answer, “Maybe, but only until I can change the definition”? It’s a dangerous thing to be that determined. Scary dangerous. And about most causes, I would never dare to be so.
But I pray that when it matters, I could be so brave. So patriotic. So radical in a quest, if the Lord is the one who put it on my heart. I pray I’m cut from the same cloth as those who forged a nation.
by Roseanna White | Oct 14, 2013 | Word of the Week
Nearly forgot it was Monday! LOL But lucky for you, I remembered. 😉 And so, I’m hear to talk about acute.
This will be a quick one, but I found it kinda interesting primarily because of my own weird thought-processes. See, when I was learning about angles back in middle school, I taught myself to remember that acute = under 90 degrees, because small = cute. So acute angles were small angles.
Worked well enough in math class…but not so well in vocabulary, LOL, when I began reading books that used acute in a non-math sense. When I first came across it, I naturally thought that “an acute case of the flu” meant a SMALL case of the flu.
Um, er…brilliant, Roseanna. Just brilliant. 😉
I quickly learned I was wrong, but I never bothered looking up why. As it turns out, it’s pretty simple. Acute in its math sense doesn’t mean “small.” It means “sharp.” Makes total sense, right? The Latin acutus is “sharp, pointed.” Interestingly, though, the original meaning in terms of a disease or whatnot was “coming and going quickly” more than “intense,” which didn’t come about until 1727. Between those two, though, was the expected “sharp, irritating” meaning that evolved by the 15th century.
Makes much more sense with the angle meaning than my “small.” 😉
by Roseanna White | Oct 10, 2013 | Thoughtful Thursdays, Uncategorized
You know, life these days is pretty crazy. We’re all running, running, running, trying to keep up with this and that and the other thing, with kids’ activities and our own, with our complicated lives, jobs, church commitments, you name it.
Rarely do I have a season lately that I don’t deem “crazy.” But October is always the worst for me. And this year, for some reason I thought it would be fun to schedule a ton of fall releases for WhiteFire, LOL, so I have a bunch of editing on top of it (I’ve been prepping five different books). I’ve got Octoberfest (last weekend), family reunion (this weekend), my daughter’s birthday, an extra night of ballet starts next week for Nutcracker rehearsal–and this year, her physical therapy twice a week on top of it, not to mention that whole moving thing that still isn’t finished.
Yeah. Wee bit crazy around here. I’ve been getting up at 5:30 every day, scheduling every minute of my day, and falling into bed exhausted every night. And I still don’t feel exactly on top of things. But the schedule helps. A block of time for writing. Then blogging. A block for exercising, showering, eating, and reading my Bible. School. Running out and about. More school. Editing. Picking up the house, cooking, evening activities. Somewhere in there I’m trying to squeeze in a research book. And laundry, LOL.
I know, though, that I’m not the only one with one of those crazy-beyond-comprehension months–October just happens to be mine.
What time of year are you busiest? Christmas? Summer? Some random month like mine? What are your tricks for keeping your head above water?
by Roseanna White | Oct 9, 2013 | Ancient World, Remember When Wednesdays
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Medieval Miracles, from a 13th century abridgement
of the Domesday Book |
We live in a world of doubt. With special effects and computer graphics, folks can make pretty much anything look real. Look like it happened.
But we know better. Right? It’s all just show. Made up. Pretend.
We’ve been conditioned to doubt. Not just what we see on television, but everything. We’re hard pressed to ever accept anything that looks miraculous, because come on–it’s more likely a hoax. Sleight of hand. Misdirection.
I mean, sure, there were miracles in the Bible. Healing the blind. The lame. Feeding the five thousand. Walking on water. Sure. But that was Jesus. Maybe the apostles. That’s different. And that’s not weird. It’s an accepted kind of miracle, those ones in the Bible. Easy to accept, right?
Then I read it all more closely, and a line of Jim Rubart’s Soul’s Gate comes to mind. “What,” one of his characters says (I may be paraphrasing slightly), “have you only been reading the boring parts of the Bible?”
I mean, seriously. Look at the Old Testament. Saul goes to a medium and calls up Samuel–who appears!
Um…our comfy little spiritual boxes get a little chafing at that one.
On the day Jesus died, the graves opened, and the dead were seen walking about.
Um…that surely means something other than what it sounds like, right? (I included this in A Stray Drop of Blood, and apparently some folks thought I was getting weird and making it up–until they looked it up, LOL.)
In Acts, we read how Paul grew frustrated with a girl with a spirit of fortune-telling and turned around and cast out the demon. Okay. Nothing too worrisome there…until we read on that her master was furious because now he had no way of making money.
Which implies that it worked. She really could tell the future, at least in part. We don’t like that at all, do we? The other side shouldn’t have power like that.
This time of year, you can’t go out in public or turn on the TV without seeing a lot of Halloween stuff. My kids think it’s all grand fun, and they love to ask questions like “Is this real? Or is it pretend?”
And you know…sometimes it’s hard to know how to answer them. Is it real? Mostly no, the things on TV. Mostly not. But then, there’s so much that goes beyond our comprehension, largely, I think, because we’re so quick to doubt. We dismiss everything.
But maybe we shouldn’t. Because if we don’t pay attention to it, we can’t fight it–and a lot of these “weird” stories in the Bible are of God’s servants having to deal with this stuff.
The spiritual world is baffling…but it’s there. And sometimes I wonder what our faith would be like if we were a little more open to learning the truth about it…and a little less quick to ignore all we don’t understand.
I’m delving into some of this in A Soft Breath of Wind…nothing resembling the cartoon ghost, LOL, but I’m reading the Bible carefully and with a point of looking at we normally dismiss as too “weird.” I’m prayerfully asking the Lord for understanding of some of these bothersome parts. And it’s pretty fun to see what new “weirdness” springs up every day in my reading. 😉
Roseanna M. White is a bestselling, Christy Award winning author who has long claimed that words are the air she breathes. Having successfully launched two homeschool grads, she now spends her time writing fiction, designing book covers, and pretending her house will clean itself. Roseanna is the author of a slew of historical novels that span several continents and thousands of years, as well as a fantasy series and contemporary mysteries and romances. Spies and war and mayhem always seem to find their way into her books…to offset her real life, which is blessedly ordinary.